While he loved his day job, he had to hide the satisfaction he got after each successful go. If the higher ups knew that he liked, or rather loved, what he did, they wouldn’t let him do it anymore.
When it came to executions, Walden didn’t have a preferred method. In his personal work he had opinions about how things should be done, but at the Ministry the crowd was all that really mattered. The fact that people watched as he took someone’s life and condoned it - he still couldn’t believe they paid him to do what he did. Walden would’ve felt guilty each time he received his pay check, but he wasn’t capable of feeling guilt.
As he strode down the glossy black stone that lined the Ministry’s halls, Walden ran into a pale, familiar face.
“Lucius,” he smiled, slowing down to a stop to catch up for a moment. “I didn’t expect to see you on the tenth floor.” He extended his hand to Lucius, a missed drop of blood spatter decorating the cuff of his white dress shirt. Walden did his best to clean any stray spatter that found its way onto his clothes, but occasionally he missed a drop or two.
“What international affair brought you all the way up here?”
@softboi-malfoy​












