(???) We meet in flesh

Her fear is beautiful. It called for me the moment my little Lock stepped foot in this wretched town. That deep fear that Maya so bravely pushed through… I found it as enticing as her power.

I will have it all. Maya, her power, her fear—as soon as everything falls into place.

I meet her near my dwelling place, as far as the invisible chain allows me to. Watching Maya's pursuers throw their insults is infuriating, but I'm powerless to do a thing against them until they come closer. But they won't get into my reach.

Soon, I will come for them myself. Until then, I'll settle for showing them previews of my revenge through dreams.

Maya stops just a dozen steps away from me. She's a scared, helpless animal. A prey, one that I entice with a smile and a carefully recreated human visage.

"Come to me, my little Lock." My voice is as smooth and soothing as I can make it. I can't scare my Maya now.

She comes closer, but even with her pursuers so close, my fearful Lock still hesitates. I have to push.

"Come! You knew where you were going, my beautiful Lock. It's too late to turn around."

It's all I needed for her to run to me and through the walls of my prison. A few particularly eager townspeople still throw their lassos at Maya, but I deflect them without distracting from my prize.

My Lock. She gasps when my tentacle grabs her, and screams when I envelop her fully. I do it just in time—the mortals have pulled out guns. They likely want Maya alive less than they don't want me to have her… I can't risk it.

My mortal-like mask joins the rest of my body and I carry Maya to the church, soon leaving her pursuers far behind—they don't dare to follow. By the time I stop, her screams inside of her cocoon quieten.

I put her down on a relatively clean patch of the floor, taking care to not harm her fragile mortal body further. As Maya gasps and gathers her bearings, I reform the visage I showed her. It seems to be effective enough.

"We finally meet in flesh, my trembling Lock," I say, unable to keep my excitement out of my voice as I examine her with a couple of mortal eyes. Even if I never get the colors right, they are fully functional.

She's a vision, so full of life that comes with mortality, that it makes something pull, sweetly and painfully, inside of me. I think the feeling is called "nostalgia", but it's hard to remember after all that time.

Maya's chestnut hair is a complete mess of sweaty locks that spread over her shoulders. Her baggy clothing sticks with wetness, just enough to hint at the slim figure underneath. Her green eyes shine with the combination of fear and determination that makes me want to conquer and possess. An image of a snake peeks from her left sleeve—I take it as a hint that my Lock hides deadly fangs on her.

And, of course, a knife. Items are hard to see with my inner eye, but this one reeks of enough despair to be visible. Ah, the mortal that went mad even without my help… A memory of how Maya took this trophy from him makes me smile.

My living Lock hugs her shoulders and moves a step away from me. I focus my attention on her.

"You are Noctis, right?" she asks, rising from the floor. Her feet shake—so much that she almost falls immediately after. I shoot out a tendril that grabs her shoulder before she can hurt herself on the stone floor.

Maya pales, looking at my tentacle, and I pull it back. It's fine–she'll get used to me in time.

"The loathsome mortals of this town call me that. You, my beautiful Lock, may also call me Ezekiel. Though, names are not something I hold in high regard," I say.

"Zeke? Huh. Well, Noctis *does* sound kinda cliche. I mean, call a nightmare monster 'Night'? Lame." Even as reeking of fear as she is, Maya finds in herself to joke. I find it captivating.

She moves to a pile of rocks and sits down. I glide closer. Though I could've made a pair of legs for my mask, it seems like a waste of effort when a head, a pair of hands and a silhouette achieve the same effect.

It's different with visions. Visions are easier and harder at the same time. Easier, because the human brain fills their blank spots itself; harder, because you can't control what it fills them with.

"So, Noctis, Zeke… Thank you for saving me, I suppose," Maya says. "I don't imagine you will be also kind enough to answer my other questions?"

My smile widens. "Maybe, my little Lock. You have many, I know. Ask, and when you finish, I will show you something."

She eyes me with suspicion. "You are terribly nice for a tentacle-shadow-nightmare creature… When you don't send me dreams like the last one."

"Oh." I frown. The distress on her is like a moldy spot—so out of place on her lively form. "It was not my intention. The dream was a warning and message." I suppose I shouldn't have let my anger seep into my gentle Lock's dream. It was not directed at her. But it's like with visions–the only difference is that dreams come during sleep.

Maya swallows. "Then, if it's a message… Does that mean you know what happened to Rose? Did you kill her? Ate her?"

My smile dims. This is strange–I should be glad that Maya has this weakness I could use to guide her whenever I need. Instead, I'm angry that she asks me about her friend instead of me. A friend! Some mortal girl that came to put her head in this bear trap like a complete, blind fool.

I force this irrational anger away. It's so pointless to be angry with the dead–I can't even send nightmares to them.

"I know the fate of your friend, my curious Lock. Dead. Devoured… But not by me."