"When dawn comes, what will become of me?"

The little monster sniffled, spraying soot all over the floor. Curled up beneath the bed, the only thing accompanying him was loneliness and  his tears of ash.
A hand was dangling off the edge. He could hear painful grunts, coming from the large monster that laid to rest above every night.
Slowly, he reached out his hand, pulling it back every time the creature voiced, finally clasping the large monster's hand.

The hurting cries were no more, and the warmth of his hands clasped in those of another being was enough to put him into sweet, deep slumber.

"I'm not alone" The little monster sniffled, for when the dawn comes.... 
His sad smile of cut obsidian melted into a sugary buzz.