#MAGIC #WEAKTOSTRONG #MYSTERY #DARK #NONHUMAN #POSSESSIVE #IMMORTAL #SCARY #POWERFULCOUPLE #SERIOUS

To Love a Monster

He is a dark abyss—it should not be so tempting to fall in. *** To be a Lock is to be a conductor between ordinary and abnormal, between reason and insanity. It is to be a keyhole that lets one peek into the Great Beyond, and a part of the door that opens the world. It is to be sought, and hunted, and seduced by all who crave power. The magic is unnatural to this world, yet humans still fly towards arcane knowledge like moths towards a flame. Creatures of nightmares prowl just beyond the veil that protects the fragile minds of mortals, taking their pick of helpless prey. Maya Alvarez has no reasons to think she’s different from other people. No reasons, except for a single incident in her past. All she wants is to write her books and one day, maybe, become famous. Until her best friend goes missing, and Maya has no choice but to admit—she’s not insane. The world is. The pair of eyes darker than a starless night falls on Maya, and shadows surround her to never let go.

Garessta · Fantasy

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94 Chs

(Ezekiel) Learning from mistakes

"Can't you tell? The time out there," Maya gestures towards the door, "moves not like there at all. It's… It's faster. Not by much, but still. This isn't something I see every day!"

I look at her, shocked. She can really just tell this? Something that I can't even guess? A warm feeling surges through my chest. I smile. Of course she can. She's so special—my Maya, my Lock…

"Your senses are keener than ever, my Maya. I can only imagine how sharpened they will become with some more practice… But a slight change in the flow of time won't hurt us. We—"

I pause. Something tries to reach me. A mind, a conscience, and a tendril of power so familiar, it's eerie to see it not under my control. What's this?

"Zeke?" Maya asks, wary. "Something doesn't feel right."

*Listen to me,* a voice whispers in my head, barely audible. *I need you to listen and to trust me. It's the matter of life and death—and not even ours.*

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