Of Monsters and Men

I.

Each child is assigned a monster upon their birth. In most cases, these monsters stay with them until they reach adulthood; hiding under their beds and in their closets. In some cases, the monsters stay longer. Then there's the rare cases, like the one currently waiting on his desk, where a child gets re-assigned more than once.

The case that he is currently trying to deal with is a once in a lifetime rarity; there's no monsters left to assign the child. Except him. He should not have to deal with this, he hasn't been out on the field in years. He should not even be an option as he's the chief operating officer in the British department. If it weren't for the higher-ups quite literally breathing down his neck, he would not even consider doing it; but the protocol says that he can't leave any children under 15 monster-less and he's hoping to get a promotion by the end of the year.

It takes surprisingly little time to appoint someone to take care of the assignments while he's gone, and he can't help but be frustrated with how meaningless his job suddenly seems. Perhaps getting out in the field will be good for him; he hasn't practiced being scary on a human in a long while. He could probably do without human culture though.

Too many of his monsters have taken to wear clown costumes to keep the children scared. It's embarrassing.

As the monster closest related to Death, he will not have to use any such tricks, which is good for his sense of pride if nothing else.

---

The bed that he finds himself under is a horribly rickety iron bed, and while the floor seems clean enough he can't help but feel like the grime is sinking into his skin. For any other monster that would only been part of the allure, but he has never been much like any other monster. There's a reason that he's the chief operating officer and they're not, though cleanliness unlikely play any part in it.

He can't see much else of the room in the darkness, but it's okay. He can sense that the only child in the near vicinity is on top of the bed, and that's all that matters. The child does not seem to be close to sleep though, which makes his job slightly harder. He can either wait - and he does not have the patience for that - or he can try his chances now.

Or the child can take his options away by joining him underneath the bed.

---

Hadrian blinks, which is quite a feat as he has a lot more eyes than eyelids. Tom Riddle, his assigned child, is sitting underneath the bed. Staring. At him. He does not know what protocol says about this - he doesn't think that there's any protocol for this. He has to write some guidelines for it; assuming he can figure out what to do.

"You look a lot scarier than the other monsters." Tom says, and it sounds more like an observation than anything else. Hadrian blinks again, slower this time. He knows that his eyes blink out of sync but Tom gives no visible reaction except for trying to follow the pattern.

"Thanks." Hadrian answers at last, his voice dry as if his lungs were full of dust and ashes. Sometimes it even surprises him that he doesn't cough after talking.

"I'm not scared though." Tom continues, which is quite a feat for an eleven year old child to say.

"You're very brave." Hadrian can't help but feel impressed. He has scared grown men to the degree that they fainted upon seeing him, but this boy is casually having a conversation with him as if he weren't a monster made of nightmares and death.

"I wish." Tom mutters, and the words feels horribly wrong coming out of a child's mouth. Hadrian feel his sense of protectiveness tug at his heartstrings, but he pushes it back down as it's not proper monster behaviour. Or at least he tries to tell himself that he does it, and that that is the reason for it. For a monster, he's very bad at pretending - though maybe that's a contradiction. What use does a monster have of pretending?