Kingsley's horror was just starting as he heard another sound.
This time, as Kingsley watched on the left, he saw in horror as Dawlish, who had been standing firm with his wand raised, suddenly went rigid. Just like Savage, Dawlish collapsed on the ground.
Kingsley could only stare as both Aurors lay flat on their stomach.
Kingsley's mind raced. Then he realized something. Normally, whenever Kingsley faced someone and he cast the Stupefy spell, the opponent would get hit from the front, causing them to fall on their back.
But here both his colleagues were lying on their stomachs, meaning that they were hit from the back.
Coming to this thought, Kingsley's eyes widened as he came to a frightening conclusion.
All this time since Voldemort's apparition, Kingsley has not heard Amelia's voice a single time. She was normally someone who would have given some instructions on what was going on. The idea that Amelia Bones, his leader, may have been captured or killed since who knows when, was terrifying to him. His mind shouted at him that there was another attacker behind them.
In the millisecond Kingsley began to turn, he saw his only remaining colleague, Proudfoot, falling.
"Shit," he realized he was so much in thought that the attacker had time to attack Proudfoot.
Now with Proudfoot down, there was no one left standing but him. He didn't dare turn fully away from Voldemort. He pivoted just enough to glance over his shoulder.
What he saw made him speechless.
A person was standing, but it was not an enemy.
Pointing her wand toward Kingsley was no other than Amelia Bones herself. The very first thought that Kingsley had was denial.
Maybe she was Imperiused.
Someone cast one of the three unforgivable Curses on her and took control of her actions. But Kingsley quickly rejected that possibility, as one of the requirements to become an Auror was the ability to fight against mind control.
Kingsley tried to come up with a different excuse. Maybe someone else is using Polyjuice? But Kingsley could not convince himself.
Amelia Bones, one of the most respected figures in the Ministry, had her wand pointed directly at him. Kingsley had trusted her and had followed her into this undercover mission without question. And now, it was clear she had led them all into a trap. The betrayal was like a knife to the gut.
This couldn't be happening.
Not Amelia. Not the woman who had built a reputation on integrity and strength.
"Amelia..." Kingsley whispered, his voice laced with disbelief. "What... why?"
Instead of replying to Kingsley with an answer, Amelia Bones shouted, "Expelliarmus!"
Kingsley did not have any time to react and found his wand had flown out of his hand.
"Well done, Amelia." Kingsley's attention was brought back to the real threat behind him as he heard Voldemort's voice. Voldemort was now walking toward Kingsley with his wand in hand.
He saw Voldemort make a movement with his wand, and immediately, Kingsley felt a vibration below his feet. He only had time to look below before the rock under his feet transmuted into chains that looped around his legs. They wrapped themselves tightly around his ankles, snaking up to bind his arms against his sides. Kingsley made a few attempts to break free but gave up soon when he saw it was impossible.
Voldemort continued to walk until he was finally next to Kingsley. But he did not stop and continued until he reached Amelia. The stunned Kingsley watched in silence as the Dark Lord reached out and wrapped a hand around Amelia's waist, pulling her firmly against his side.
Amelia didn't resist. Instead, she leaned into Voldemort's touch. "Did I do well, my Lord?"
Voldemort's lips curled into a smile. "Excellently, Amelia."
Turning his attention to Kingsley, Voldemort said, "You should consider yourself honored, Shacklebolt. Today, you are witness to yet another milestone in my path to victory. A new era is dawning, and you have the privilege of seeing it unfold."
Kingsley felt an anger boiling inside of him upon hearing Voldemort and seeing the way Amelia was behaving. Kingsley wanted to retort in the Dark Lord's face, but the chains around his chest tightened, constricting his breath.
He watched helplessly as Voldemort turned his gaze away from him, looking past the entrance of Azkaban.
Voldemort spoke in a high-pitched voice.
"Dementors, as promised, here is your feast! Come, enjoy the souls of these fallen Aurors. This is merely the appetizer; there will be much, much more to come."
Kingsley's eyes widened in horror as he watched the Dementors react to Voldemort's call. A great, writhing mass of them surged from the entrance of Azkaban. The air grew colder, and a foul, rotten stench filled the air. Kingsley's terror spiked as he realized why Amelia and Voldemort had trapped them instead of killing them.
Voldemort had other plans to silence them.
"NO!" Kingsley screamed, thrashing against the chains, desperation giving him strength.
But it was no use.
He could only watch as the dementors approached his colleagues. Savage, Proudfoot, and Dawlish... who lay helpless on the ground, still stunned but alive.
The first Dementor reached Savage. The creature lowered its hooded face to his, and the sound that escaped from Savage's throat was something between a gasp and a sob. A sound cut brutally short as the Dementor began to feed. The others descended swiftly on Proudfoot and Dawlish. Kingsley could only watch in horror as the twisted creatures sucked the life, the very soul, from his comrades.
The scene was pure horror.
Savage's eyes rolled back, his body convulsing before going completely limp. Proudfoot's hands twitched once, then fell still as the Dementor above him drew a rattling breath, savoring its feast. Dawlish, too, was reduced to nothing more than an empty shell, his soul devoured by the relentless assault.
Kingsley's stomach twisted, tears falling down his cheeks as he watched helplessly as the dementors performed their most dangerous ability.
The Dementor's Kiss.
The dementor pulled up its hood, latched its mouth onto Savage's mouth, and literally sucked out his soul.
Just like that, the dementors killed Savage, Proudfoot, and Dawlish.