TW! PEDOPHILES, ATTEMPTED RAPE, SEXUAL ASSAULT! PLEASE TAKE HEED BEFORE READING, NOT TOO GRAPHIC BUT AT READER'S RISK

Ailill doesn't often dream or think about his past, not because he doesn't remember it but because he simply doesn't care. That life is gone and passed, there's no way to return to it and even if there was he wouldn't bother to try. That life held nothing but misery for him, at least in the one he's currently in there's a few specks of light.

His specks were far and few in between but they were there and held close to be treasure. His first memory of finally giving up on pushing Tom away was when he found him sniffling in 'The Cupboard'. The cupboard was a dreary place of horrors. It was this little hollow in the wall with barely any space for a twelve year old child to fit in, it was by far probably one of the most vile punishments the Matrons forced upon the orphans at Wools. Ailill himself had never been forced in there, he was too much of a benefit to Mrs. Cole.

But Tom? Why that was the favourite place she'd force the young boy into.

Even at a young age Ailill was always on the streets scouring the crowd for faint hearts and deep pockets. In so Tom wasn't nearly as well behaved back at the Orphanage, he wanted to follow Ailill truely but the older boy was always gone before him, leaving him behind in the dust.

Tom acted out, he made others cry, stole from them, cause unexplainable things to happen, a common thing was a child suddenly thrown down a flight of stairs. You have to remember, Ailill was cold to Tom in this period of his life, he didn't see Tom as someone relevent to keep attention on. Tom acted out, he wanted Ailill's attention and he wanted it years ago.

It wasn't for about five or six punishments in the cupboard that Ailill grew curious enough about the sniggering whispers that he later that evening after dinner went and opened the cramped space only to find a small hunched figure of a five year old boy.

He was damp, the cupboard had a broken overhead pipe that leaked cold, meldew water onto the back of a person's neck and had their clothes growing stedaily more damp as time wore on.

Ailill had stood in the entry of the little space and stared down the boy inside, it was the little werido who trailed after him at all times that he could. The one who causes things to happen. It was Tom Riddle, Ailill didn't really like him, this Tom was annoying and clingy, always reaching to touch Ailill like they had the right. And he knows they're just a child and they don't really have the best, how would you say, impulse control but still he doesn't have to like the little thing.

Tom lifted his head to look up at the perosn who had opened the door, it was proabbtly Amy or Finnian an older boy who like to watch other kids get punished. He was ready to lash out even if it meant spending more time in the cupboard afterwards. But it wasn't who he expected it to be.

His everything since day one stood before him like god watching their worshiper. For one dreadful second Tom thought Ailill would mock him, beat him down with cruel words yet never letting himself touch Tom, as if he were dirty, he dreaded that Ailill had finally had enough of the patheticness that was Tom Riddle.

And to be honest? Ailill almost was, he was ready to completely throw away all thoughts of the child seeing his pitiful state but then he saw it. Hidden away but nurtured so carefuly behind closed doors. Ailill looked into glacier eyes and saw a monster. Now monsters aren't inheriently good or bad, they are what their conscious feeds them yet they are so rare. People have to be a certain kind to raise a monster, their qualities vary but they all have one thing in common and that is obsession. They find something to fixate on, something to pull that monster forward and have it wreak havoc in its farce of appreciation.

Ailill knew this becuase he too was a monster, savage one selfishly deovted to their own goals. Ailill saw a monster in Tom Riddle and did the one thing he wished another did for him. He reached out.

Tom thought he was halluinacting never mind if he didn't really know what that word meant. but still there was no way what he was seeing in front of him was real, there glorious Ailill stood with an out stretched hand for him to grab. Tom was hesitant, What if this was a sick joke? A mean prank? Would it really matter if in the end he got to touch Ailill?

His logic wasn't very sound but it was all he would listen to and so a trembling hand, pale and cold took another also pale and cold but far stronger. Tom let himslef be pulled to his feet and settled himself beside Ailill for years to come.

Allill gave a hand but didn't realise that in doing so also gave his heart unwillingly. What use was his past life when it didn't have the boy that slept beside him everyday.

When he does dream of the past it's usually about war, of blood, loss and unforgivable acts. He's not stupid to delude himself into believing the acts he did -kiling men and women his own age maybe younger- were noble or for the greater good. He knows to those people on the other side of the fence he was the nightmare behind their eyelids at night, but one thing Ailill prides himself in being is never the demon who forces themselves on others

Ailill isn't righteous or even a good person but there are some acts in the world that you can never excuse. The vile act of forcing yourself upon another was horrendous and Ailill always made his stance on that clear. Ailill himself in his past life near really had to deal with such things, he was in the military alright but life was so chaotic and they were always fighting for their lives so sexual acts weren't really on the forefront of peoples mind. Plus back then he wasn't anything pretty to look at, average looks for an average person.

But this life?

In this life he's too pretty. Soft features, pretty smiles and compelling eyes. He often became a target for perverts and paedophiles, they would follow him in the streets badgering words and promising special gifts if he came with them. Ailill always turned up his nose at them, disgust radiating off him; however, it only ever seemed to spur them to try harder. His days would be filled with creepy men chasing him through the streets and women slyly pressing gloved hands against his flimsily covered skin. They thought they were discreet but their eyes were just as dark as the men's.

Ailill could deal with it, he's crafty and quick on his feet he could out-manoeuvre them when push comes to shove but it's when they target other children. Ailill didn't particularly care for these children but it will be a peaceful day in Hell before he lets some sick bastard put their hands on them.

Ailill remembered the day he committed his first murder in this new life, it was a sunny day, mid-July and a few days away from the beach trip of the year. Mrs. Cole had the church from up the street come down to help with the summer clean out that they always did. They were always swapping out priests but the nuns always stayed relatively the same.

Ailill was always put on kitchen duty those days because he was one of the only children they trusted near the knives. Mistake number one.

The priests usually helped with either cooking or maintenance on the roof in preparation for the upcoming winter. The parishes' help is always invaluable to the orphanages of the area. This year there was a newly ordained priest joining this time. He had experience with prepared meals and so was assigned to the kitchens.

Ada, a young girl but one of the oldest of the children in Wools, sixteen to be exact was in charge of directing the man on what to priest, Father Lloyd, was polite if not clearly bored with the girl telling him his duties for the day. Ada showed him the kitchers and the workers of the day, majority were the girls of the orphanage, none below the age of thirteen. Father Lloyd was quiet the entire time he was in the kitchen, he didn't engage in conversation even though the girls tried to include him multiple times.

After about half an hour Allill waltzed into the kitchen with a bang. He was dressed for the summer heat with a light shirt and cut off pants he had made the year before.

"Ailill, all done?" Ada asked, shaking her hair out from being stuck to the back of her neck.

The ten year old nodded with a blank bored face. "Yeah, got Tom to finally agree to not cause problemes while washin' clothes."

"Hah, you're more like a mother to 'im," Hetty, fourteen and bold cackled.

"Ooo, don't let Tom hear that!" Anne, Hetty's partner in crime jeered back.

Ailill only shook his head at them fairly amused.

"Back to work girls, lunch ain't gonna make itself." Ada ordered but the smile on her face made it clear she thought the comments were funny. "You can peel the potatoes over there with Father Lloyd, Ailill."

Allill looked over to see an older man, probably mid - twenties holding a knife rather tightly if the white knuckles were any indication. The child only nodded his head at the order and moved to stand near the man, taking the knife Hetty offered him. The two were in a more secluded area with only having to peel potatoes, this was to make sure they wouldn't be in the other girls way.

Ailill was quiet as he worked, he did not care for mindless chatter and he certainly didn't want to have conversations with a person he didn't know, someone that wasn't relevant to him. This father Lloyd was weird, he seemed closer than what he was five minutes ago and for some reason Allill couldn't get the feeling the eyes were constantly on his figure but whenever he looked up at his surroundings there was nothing to be seen.

After about ten minutes of complete silence between the only two males in the kitchen, Father Lloyd finally seemed to have worked up the courage to speak but only his efforts were in vain as the younger boy seemed to have no interest in holding conversation with him.

"Ailill, right?" Father Lloyd said. " I'm Father Lloyd, I'm new to the area."

The younger of the briefly shot his eyes up to the man to show that he heard what he had said but his lack of response showed he did not care. Father Lloyd looked to be flustered at the lack of a response almost as if it had never happened to him which could be entirely possible. The people of England loved the Catholic Church so very much, holding them to high pedestals where they could do no wrong, worshipping towards the church and its inhabitants.

"Ah, so…" The priest stumbled. "I don't really know the area, maybe you could-"

" Look, Lloyd, Yeah?" Ailill cut him off.

" F- father-" The priest corrected.

" No offence but you're not my father so I'm not gonna call you that," Ailill made it clear. "Anyways, I got a lot going on in my life so I'll pass."

The priest's face soured only for a second. Then he tried to correct it, arranging it into a much more pleasing facade. Ailill has seen many of these kinds of people in their lives. Now he won't assume anything because truly the man hasn't done anything wrong to him but he will be cautious for the rest of the time they spend together. It's always people with an advantage of power over you that will act arrogant in regards to how they can treat you.

They spent the rest of their time in silence again, Ailill's lack of interest in conversations often leads to strained conversations between anyone he talks to other than Tom. But for some reason this didn't seem to deter the man from speaking with his actions. Ailill oftentimes found himself bit too close to the other, their hands would brush when they both reached to grab a potato. Now normally these can be brushed off as coincidence but when they're constantly having one after the other it becomes a pattern, one that cannot be ignored. It seemed ever so slightly as well the man was kind of cornering the younger boy. They stood at a table with a pot on it between them and potatoes peeled on it and potatoes dirty and unpeeled all across it. Ailill was on the inside close to the wall which also coincidentally hid him from view a lot more easily.

Father Lloyd was taller than the younger boy broader too, just in general bigger in every aspect. If it came to a physical power struggle Ailill would lose without doubt. This wasn't some skewed form of statistics, it was a concrete fact, in every sense of the word when it came to physicality Ailill would not be able push the man off if anything were to happen it would be a futile effort. This conclusion was easy enough to come on your own, anyone could see it. Priests were fed well, they had the backing of the church behind them, every single one of them were often well built not in a form of muscles but just in the fact that they weren't skin and bones like every other orphan in the City.

It wasn't hard to understand how Father Lloyd came to this conclusion as well, he was bold in his actions. Unafraid of the seemingly non-existent consequences that would arise. Ailill was watchful of the man but nothing he did could be considered malicious.

Nothing seemed to happen. It was like they were at a standstill, then little Robin showed up. Six years old but eager to help in anything they could. He adored Ailill much like Tom did but far less obsessive and has a tendency to cling to other people in the orphanage as well. The young boy bounced up to Ailill and gripped the bottom of his pants and swung back-and-forth on his heels, a bright smile on displayed in his face.

"Lili, Martha said to go and help other people so I came to find you." Big bronze eyes shined in awe.

Despite the oldest attitude, Ailill wasn't cruel to the younger crowd; he just didn't have much patience for dealing with them. If they ever ask for help he'll try his best unless they came whining about something stupid, he'd make his disapproval obvious. Robin seemed to come to understand that and now only comes up to the older boy if it is needed or when he knows he's in a good mood and willing to put up with the youngest's antics. Robin never approaches however if Tom is around, he learnt his lesson the hard way with the raah of boils that appeared for a week, it was torturous to the younger boy.

"Then go help someone," Ailill drawled.

"Ah, well ye see ' m need to go potty," Robin bashfully explained eyes on the floor. "Can ye help, I can't reach it."

It was normal for a four year old to need help. What wasn't normal was how eager the priest seemed to give that help. Robin was shy but also an outgoing child who wanted to make friends with everyone he met so he let the priest help him. It wasn't weird, many times the priests helped the younger children. Ailill knows this but something just wasn't right, he picked up the knife he was using and left the kitchen to where the bathrooms were held. The one on the first floor was empty and the only other one was up on the fifth floor. Now why would the priest take a young boy all the way up there when there was a perfectly good area nearby.

Ailill took the stairs two at a time in his rush. this horrible feeling was plaguing his chest with gruesome dread. The fifth floor was deserted, of course it would be every child was either in the kitchen, or outside helping in some way. The bathroom was at the far side of the floor, near the end. Ailill was hasty and made his way there, he paused for a second hoping that maybe he was just over-reacting. He listened carefully.

At first there was nothing then, "tha' feels werid, sir. Please stop."

"Shh, this is a game for big boys, Robin, and you're a big boy, right?"

"Yesh, buh Lili said no one can touch me there."

"Lili's not here now though, is he?"

That was it, Ailill stormed into the small room, knife hidden but eyes ablaze with poison. There sweet little Robin stood over the toilet, no clothes on from the bottom down, on the safety stool with his back to the priest. Father Lloyd hovered over him with a revolting look in his eyes as he held the child's genitals in his hand moving in a fashion that was neither helpful nor appropriate.

"Get yer slimy hands off him!" Ailill shrieked yanking the little boy from the paedophiles clutches. He bundled Robin close to his chest using his larger figure to hid him from the predator's eyes.

"Lili?" Robin asked in a voice filled with childish confusion and anxiety.

Ailill placed the boy on the floor and removed his shirt to place over the child's partially nude figure. "Hey, sweetheart, stay here for a min, yeah? Lili's gotta get rid of something real quick."

Robin was docile and nodded without a sound sinking to his knees to sit on the floor.

Ailill made his way into the bathroom, eyes dark holding nothing but a need for revenge. He shut the door and locked it from the inside, not allowing any entry or exit. The knife he brought bit into the side of his back from where it was stashed in the waistband of his pants.

"That wasn't very nice, Ailill. You interrupted Robin and I's big boy time."

Ailill wanted to hurl, this sick bastard talking like he did nothing wrong.

"Were you jealous? You can join if you want. You are," Sick murky brown eyes raved over him in a depraved fashion making Ailill want to rip off his skin and throw it away. "So pretty." A gross hand reached out as if to touch him, horrified Ailill ripped the knife from its place of safekeeping and drove it through the man's extended hand before swiftly yanking it out.

The yell was like music to his ears. Father Lloyd now owned a hand with a hole right through the middle. The pain made his face redden and veins bulge in his forehead, the ones peppered along his hairline.

"You little wench! Just what is wrong with you! You and that boy were clearly seducing me and now you're taking it back?"

"Seducing you?!" Ailill exclaimed with indignation. "We are children."

"Oh please," The priest spat furiously. "Your coy eyes and playful avoidance of conversation yet leaning into me were very clear to read. And Robin saying he needed help with the bathroom while looking up at me with those wide lustful eyes? He was practically begging for it."

Bile actually rose in the back of Ailill's throat. "Robin is four, he doesn't even know what those words you say mean. And me? I just really didn't fucking like you, there was nothing to read other than fuck off."

The priest scoffed and shook his head like Ailill was some naughty misbehaving child. "I know what I saw."

"Well, clearly you didn't."

"Listen, just say you're jealous and apologise and I'll include you next time. That's what you want, yeah? To be included. I'll make you feel nice."

The priest used the knowledge in talking under the assumption that Ailill was like any other normal child, any other normal ten year old. Children work on weird logic, it is easy to manipulate them, they want what other children have that includes attention from people. If Ailill wasn't who he was he too would have probably fallen for that tatic. Even little Tom might have with his desperate desire for attention.

Ailill gripped the knife so hard the wood creaked in his grip.

"I'm gonna kill you."

"What?" The beast's brows furrowed.

"I'm gonna kill you. I'm going to cut you up so bad they'll never remember how you looked. I'm going to make it so painful you're going to regret every single waking moment of your life. I'm going to get revenge for every single child you hurt in this life."

Lloyd snorted but his eyes flickered fearfully to the blade in the child's grasp. He tried to move but found he could not, his limbs were locked in place. "Wha-?

"Don't you know?" Ailill tilted his head, eyes black as dread and hair an abyss of nightmares. "I'm the devil child, I wield what you cannot and I will make you scream like those other children did."

"I," Ailill advanced forward despite the man's growing whimpers. "am going to be your terror."

With that he summoned the man's pelvic girdle, ripping it out of the skin, and started a game of knife or magic with the beast.