Wool's Orphanage was about as warm and loving as the stormy weather around it. Its walls, were grey and shadowy, like the clouds above it. The run down building kept the cold in, and the nonexistent warmth out. Soft sounds of rain could be heard throughout the hallow halls of the cramped orphanage, leaving echoes in their wake.
A boy of seven wondered how long the orphanage that held him would last; it seemed that every rain drop ate away a bit of concrete and brick as it fell. He hoped they would soon consume it all someday, the whole building and everyone inside it besides himself, then he would be free. Perhaps if everyone in this dreary place didn't think he was mad, he wouldn't loath it so much.
But they did think he was mad; and every soul in London seemed to think so as well. The matron, the children, everyone. He wasn't mad, he knew it. Even with common name like Tom, he knew he was different, yes, but definitely not mad.
He could do things, strange things; acts that make others uneasy in his presence. The other children called him a freak, but he preferred the term eccentric for his abilities. An eccentric, he thought, a brilliant eccentric in the making. He almost smiled at the thought. Almost.
He was brilliant, and hoped someday someone else would notice it. Of course they would, how could they not? He was going to leave this dingy place, meet many people, and do great things when he became older. As for now, he sat on a rickety old stool deep in thought. The boy's clothes hung loose on his thin frame like a rabbit would if it were hanging from the rafters. At the thought of his clothes, Tom frowned. The older children in the orphanage were in charge of distributing clothes amongst the younger ones, since it was short on adult staff. He had made the mistake of making one of the laundry distributer's family photo disappear, and ever since been enemies with all of them for similar stunts.
As a result, every week he received a pair of mismatched clothes. Some days he got a pair of trousers that were three sizes too small and a shirt that could hold two Tom Riddles plus an Amy Benson. The next he might get that except with the bottoms too large and the top constricting his lungs so as to prevent him from breathing. But today however, they just threw him some loose trousers and a top. At least there was no mismatching the sizes. Tom feared that if he tampered with any of their other possessions, they might just not give him clothes at all. No matter, he could always just go after the younger children's things.
To be fair, he felt that nobody in this place should have any souvenirs of their family when he didn't. If they had such a wonderful family that was plastered onto some photo, why were they even here? Perhaps they had died, or some other reason that he didn't care to know. Tom knew one thing, if any of these children have anything of a family, then they should leave this godforsaken place to the ones that didn't.
A sudden roar of thunder erupted from the clouds, jolting him from the safety of his thoughts. He glanced out the window, where the rain distorted his view. His eyes drifted then, from the window with the useless view, to the windowsill below it. The objects on it twisted his thin lips into something of a smile. His treasures, he thought fondly. Other things he had taken from the other orphans. There were two rows of them. One row, the first, contained possessions stolen from those Tom hated. It was the row with the largest amount of things, so he put it up for display before the the others. The second row, however, had objects he had taken from people who were decent to him, kind even. It had little in its row. The first row of possessions were important and cherished items to those who he had taken them from. Unlike the first row, the second assortment of objects were things knew their owners wouldn't miss. Things like a loose button, or a hairpin, items that wouldn't particularly be noticed if they were gone.
Once more he slipped into contemplation, or sweet daydreaming if you will. His pale features begun to relax, and his breathing slowed into a steady one. He stayed this way for a while, enjoying the peace and serenity it offered. That is until, he was rudely interrupted by an older orphan.
"Aye, Riddle! Time for lunch!" She said while poking her head into Tom's room. Not many were brave enough to fully step inside, and this girl was no exception.
"Mm?" Tom answered. How long had he been thinking? His eyes lazily rolled over to where the elder girl's head was.
"It's meal time, you freak! Don't you do anything else but sit in this room alone? Of course you don't, you've got no friends." And with that, she quickly left. It was good that she did, because Tom knew that she had a certain prized trinket that she wouldn't like gone. Although, he just might take that later, the girl was rather rude.
He slipped off the old wooden stool, carefully, so as to not splinter his behind, and strode to the meal serving area. Already he could smell something vile, and knew immediately that it was the delightful meal he was going to eat. Not that he had a choice anyway; if he is to stay alive long enough to do great things, he must make sacrifices. He looked up at the one who was giving out the food and was relieved. At least it was one of the adult staff members serving, Martha he remembered, and was comforted to know that she would not spit in his food.
The meal area was filled with children of all ages, all eating that same food, at the same time, with the same people. The younger ones seemed to enjoy their meal much more than their elders did-understandably they had tired of the same old thing as anyone would be by now. Tom causally walked up to the serving lady, and she in turn handed him a bowl of slightly warm soup and a slice of cold bread. As he looked at her, she half-heartedly smiled, and proceeded to hand another child a bowl. He went on his way, passing many tables full of hungry orphans until he got to the one empty table in the back. He sat down, and started his 'meal'. Tom was pleasantly surprised. The soup itself wasn't bad in taste, but it had an odor comparable to spoilt milk on a hot day. Nevertheless, he finished it, along with the bread, quickly. He tool a quick glance around the area of crowded children, then at his table. Ever since he could remember, he had always sat in that table. Always. The others had since compressed themselves together in the other remaining tables to keep the one in the back open. Some even took the floor when the orphanage was especially crowded. It was just as well, he didn't want to sit with any of them anyway.
He grabbed the empty bowl and placed it in the dish washing area. Several children waited until he had left before they put their dishes in. Tom, instead of usually retreating to the confines of his room, decided that he could do for some time outside the orphanage's walls. As he was walking, he looked out one of the windows, and saw that it was still raining. He stood there, deciding whether or not getting fresh air was worth wetting his clothes. Before he could decide however, three boys approached him.
"Hey, Tommy! Silvia said you were extremely rude to her when she saw you, what's up with that?"
Tom stayed silent. Billy Stubbs wasn't one for talking, he preferred punching. Another boy spoke too, Richard Crum was pretty much the same way.
"What? Don't speak to people do ya? You know, I once heard you chatting up a couple of garden snakes. You didn't even see me there! Mad, you are! Whispering mad little things to those creatures because you're a mad little boy."
Tom caught his breath. Richard had seen him do that? Now everyone will be convinced that he's off his rocker, even the matron. She might even send him to one of those...Institutions. Places where mad people go, never to return.
"Whisperin' things to snakes! Now you've done it Tom! Mrs. Cole's gotta send you away once she hears this! Richard, why didn't you tell me this before? Coulda saved Silvia his rudeness and the rest of us him altogether." Billy said.
"I-uh, forgot...There was a.." Richard trailed off.
The boy didn't forget, he was afraid to say it alone. Not without Billy and another to protect him. Tom knew fear when he saw it. And this time, he didn't just see it, he could smell it. He grinned. Billy turned and noticed the peculiar smile on Tom's lips.
"Why are you standin' there grinin' like a madman Tommy? Didn't ya hear? You're going straight to one of those asylums!"
Richard stared at his smile too. He said nothing, as did the other next to him. Billy didn't seem to notice.
"Actually, Billy, I think that for everyone's best interests, you had better keep quiet." Tom said calmly.
Billy snickered. "And why would we do such a thing? As ya might be interested to know, I don't like you. Better yet, nobody else does either, they would be happy to see you gone."
His companions didn't chime in. They remained silent, staring at Tom.
"Oh, Billy, you oughtn't say such things about people. Because really, I am looking out for your best interests, and those of the people around you too."
He flashed the trio with a toothy grin before continuing.
"You see, Billy, I would be most displeased if something, lets say, unfortunate happens to you, Richard, Winston, or...your lovely little pet you seem to care a great deal for."
Billy gasped, "You wouldn't Riddle! You wouldn't even dare touch Fluffy! If you did then I-"
"Oh, no, Billy, well I wouldn't have to touch him. You know very well how strange I am. I can do many things without even moving a finger, why would I bother touching him."
The boys hardly breathed, let alone spoke. Tom took this as an opportunity to frighten them further.
"-So be good boys and keep your lips shut will you? I'd hate to see bad luck befall any of you, especially you Billy."
"You-you're a little freak! A weirdo! Have fun playing in your little room alone little mad boy, because you couldn't get friends if you tried! And I hope Mrs. Cole finds out so that she can send you away from here, they shouldn't let crazy children mingle with the normal ones!"
And with that, the three of them left. Quickly, all while looking back at a still smiling Tom.
Once they were completely out of sight, Tom continued on his way. He once again looked out the window to find that the rain had stopped. He decided that some time outdoors was just what he needed. He quickly found the back door, which lead to a particular secluded part of the orphanage grounds. Once he was out, he breathed. He really breathed. He was free of human nuisances-at least for a while-and could still smell the lingering scent of rain.
He liked the smell of rain as much as the smell of fear. Perhaps even more.
A/N- Here is the first chapter. I do plan to upload more, but just out of curiosity, what to you think of it so far?