The monsters were never
under my bed.
Because the monsters
were inside my head.

-Nikita Gill

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was sitting at dinner alone, considering I'd finished the confusing concoction in quarter the time everyone else did. Most of the other students were in their own classes.

I had a bowl of rice and chicken to my left and the book I'd stolen from the restricted section in the library. No one was even around me, and even if there had been... I'd charmed the book to look like my Potions book.

My eyes skimmed over the book, eyes reading all the spells in extreme curiosity. The spells in there held utter power. I knew because I'd used one in first year. The raw power I had mixed with the strong black magic I was using attracted a demon. Abaddon was undoubtedly a handful. He was fiercely protective of his little witch, me, and considering he used my body as a host and anchor for his demonic entity, I saw him a lot.

And that's the story of how I ended up with a demon living inside me. I could feel him coming forward, making my eyes go raw black, signalling his control. "Interesting," He hisses, and I snort.

"You find anything evil interesting, Abaddon."

"This spell is for cutting off limbs!" The damn demon actually squeals in glee at the prospect. Considering that a demon had intertwined himself with my soul, we both became exceedingly powerful.

He was why my own power amplified by a thousand folds. Anything he found interesting or useful was engraved in my mind for eternity. So all the nasty, evil spells he adored in here.... I memorized and could use like it was second nature to me.

Ettie had done the same only she wasn't at a complete agreement with her own demon. The beast was trying to take over her body instead of share it with her. Which was why she got so godawful sick every time she let him take control.

"See anything you like?" I ask my demon.

"Everything." He answers, and I find myself flipping through the pages extremely quick as if I was memorizing everything just by looking at the pages that lay in front of me. I knew that was what he was doing- remembering every damn spell in the book.

This was how I sorta kept him at equilibrium with my own capabilities. Just like I had to grow and develop in power... so did Abaddon; otherwise, we'd both die.

"What on earth are you doing?" Asked a smooth voice in front of me.

Abaddon instantly vanishes at the voice, and my eyes go back to their original blue with his disappearance.

Tom was watching me with that damn charming and intelligent expression he used on everyone.

"Riddle?" I inquire, and he moves to sit in the place in front of me. He did it so effortlessly and elegantly that I blinked in surprise.

"You're sitting with me?" I ask, but he's silent, pointing at the book I was reading.

"I can see through your futile charm Dumbledore." He sneers a superior glimmer in his eyes.

My brows furrow and I smile at him, such a forced smile that my facial muscles started to ache. "I have utterly no clue what you are insinuating Riddle." I sneer back, and in a single swipe, he grabs the book before I could think to grab it.

My face contorts to one of raw rage.

"Give me that!" I explode, but he smirks, the arrogance sweeping out of him like waves.

"This is a restricted book." He says as if talking to himself. He glances up at me, and I realized I'd climbed on the table, hovering over him like some bird.

"Get down from there, Dumbledore." He scoffs and grabs my forearm, shoving me down to sit beside him.

The coolness of his grip has my face turning red for some reason, and I can't help the curse I mutter.

"Why are you reading such a book?" He asks. My eyes turn to him in confusion. I try to grab the book from his grip, but he grips it harder.

"Riddle, let go." I seethe, but his smirk grows wider as if he enjoyed causing me discomfort.

"Give me an answer, Dumbledore." He repeats calmly. I slump back beside him, giving him a look of pure malice.

He looked at me then, his black eyes drilling into mine. I couldn't help but think - I'd never seen such dark eyes before. They were two onyx orbs that shined when the light hit them from every angle.

"Why do you even care?!" I snap. Tom raises a brow.

"Care? I do not care." He spits the word out like it was a curse. "I do not feel such trivial emotions. I am intrigued, you foolish girl." He snorts.

"Why does the cousin of the great-" He scoffs at the word. "-Albus Dumbledore have a book filled to the brim-" He flips through the book, skimming through it like he was the one trying to drill the spells in his mind. "-with such gruesome spells?" He asks in a soft murmur.

I shut the book on his hand, my palm on the book in his lap.

"So do you want me to kill him? Can I try the limb spell?" Abaddon asks in a hopeful voice.

"No!" I hiss out loud in shock.

Abaddon was freaking crazy. I would not endanger every student at the school by allowing Abaddon to unleash his full power on the Slytherin in front of me.

"No?" Tom muses, making my gaze snap to his.

I hum out a smile, ignoring his last question and answering his previous one. "I have it for research purposes. I'm going find every dark spell that Grindlewald might attempt to use in the wizarding war and learn it so I can use it against him as well." I say quickly, and Abaddon snorts in my mind.

"Sure, little witch." He chimes and I wanted to smack the stupid demon.

In a single swipe, I slide the book off of Tom's lap and onto mine.

Tom was eyeing it in intrigue. "I want to assist." He declares, making me scoff.

"No."

I knew the need for darkness was prospering deep inside him, This book, filled with awful, horrifying spells that one wouldn't even see in their deepest, darkest dreams was of grand interest to the third year Slytherin in front of me.

"I am an astonishing wizard," Tom argues, his abilities getting to head, and I roll my eyes.

"And I don't care." I mock him

"I didn't ask whether or not you did." He retorts, face scrunching in displeasure as he snatched the book back away from me. His tone was effortlessly smooth.

"Riddle. I swear if you don't return that-" I start to threaten.

"You'll what, Dumbledore?" Tom mimics my comeback from back in our Potions class.

I move to sit on top of the table, sliding my food over as I nibble on my rice. "Do you ever eat?" I ask suddenly, remembering that I never once saw him indulging in food.

"Of course, I eat Dumbledore." He scoffs, making me raise a brow at him. I watch as he flipped through all the pages I'd already memorized with Abaddon. Abaddon was getting annoyed at the student that sat rummaging through the book he'd come to love. Especially since he still had a couple hundred pages left to experience.

"Want a chicken leg?" I ask, suddenly. Riddle turns his head to gaze from me to the chicken. I think he did that twice before I got impatient. "It's a simple question." I muse.

He reaches over grabs a fork from the untouched plate beside him, and he stabs it into the chicken I'd offered him. He sits there silent, nibbling on the chicken leg every so often. All the while, he flipped through the book of deadly spells.

I think I might've accidentally caused the Dark Lord to get more powerful. The thought has me cringing.

"I wish I knew these spells when I was in the orphanage." I find myself saying. My words have Tom tensing up. I thought he was going to ignore me like always, but he turns to look up at me.

He grabs my forearm again and shoves me back down onto the bench beside him. "Stop sitting on tables. It's disrespectful." He orders natural authority in his tone.

He goes back to reading my book. Eyes still reading, never looking up from the pages, he asks me, voice slick. "Were you ever hurt by them?"

I understood exactly what he meant. He was asking if I'd ever been abused.

"He's very similar to you, my dear." Grandmama's voice rings in my ears.

My eyes darken as I remember the screaming, the pain and the tears I'd experienced living at that dreadful place.

I realize Tom had looked up from his book and was staring at me. I look to my right and meet his curious eyes. Understanding dawned on them as he reads my expression. "Yes." I shrug and smile again. "But they'll never be able to again." I murmur quietly.

I see an expression of discomfort etch on Tom's features. His lip curls and he looks back to the book. My eyes flit over to his clenched fist holding on to the fork as if it was a weapon.

"Muggles can be utterly filthy creatures." He snarls under his breath. I could feel his anger coming out in waves.

"Not all." I muse and Tom pauses. "One of them would always try to help me and end up being hurt as well. It was dreadful. I can still smell the blood. I can still hear her screams," I muse in a whisper, remembering those nights like I was reliving an old nightmare.

I think I'd begun to talk to myself, not realizing Tom was there anymore. I clear my throat, coming back to my senses.

Tom meets my gaze, and I'm confident he saw glimpses of my haunted past in my eyes because that's what I saw reflected in his own. I also saw an understanding that no one would have had unless they lived through the exact same thing.

"Perhaps." He agrees, lips still in a sneer. The word he snarled has me smiling.

There was some hope yet.

If a man cannot understand the beauty of life, it is probably because life never understood the beauty in him.
- Criss Jami