Maya-in-a-box

I regain conscience in flashes. At first, I remember being carried somewhere, and even try to resist—but I'm too weak. My head is dizzy and my eyelids are heavy. I'm unsure if this results from being knocked out, not sleeping well enough, or some drug.

The second flash of conscience stings me around the town hall, but it only lasts for long enough that I get afraid. The grip of the man—or men?—that carries me is too strong to resist.

When I wake up finally, it's not in a place I know. It's tiny—about eight feet in both dimensions, no more—and has nothing but bare wooden walls, an empty bucket in the corner, and a single lightbulb under the ceiling. The only door out looks thoroughly locked.

I sit up and hug myself. My hoodie is missing, together with my gun and my phone, but I'm shaking because of fear, not cold. Though it is cold there, too. I must be underground.

"God, how the fuck did I got so... Kidnapped? Rose, Rose... What did these sickos do to you?" I whisper to myself.

"Oh, my clueless Lock," a voice from the side makes me jump to my feet.

It's the dark man. He looks more like when I saw him yesterday—in a black coat, with pants and boots visible. Not the head on top of a blob of pure darkness. The power of his beauty is such that I don't even want to scream.

He's like an enormous spider. Scary as shit if it's on your hand, pretty when it's at a safe distance. Though the distance between us is anything but safe, even when I back to the wall.

The man smiles at me and tilts his head to the side. From the collar of his coat, a tendril of darkness reaches out to encircle his neck like some twisted necklace.

"Who are you?" I ask, grasping at straws and at my hair. "You can't be real, right? You weren't just there!"

"But I am real. Though, not just here and yet," the man shakes his head. "My estranged Lock, we can still save each other. Darkness will guide you north."

He vanishes before the last word finishes sounding. Now I'm alone again—and even in a direr position than before.

There's nothing to do in the room but to think about how real my hallucinations are. But I never believed in magic! It was Rose's fancy. Except for that one time...

***

I was six back then. Or eight. The details were blurry by now, but the translucent face of that person still stays clear with me. Just as clear as his rasping whisper of a voice.

"Mom, why are this man's eyes so shiny? Mom, why's he so thin?" I had pestered her mother, only to see confusion on her face.

"Maya, dearest, what are you talking about? And it's rude to point fingers at strangers."

"But Mom, he's so shiny! Like a fairy!"

"What a cute girl you have," the man said, and his voice made me so scared I could cry just from it alone. "Such a... vision she has. Take good care of her, miss."

The rest of that first meeting is a blur, and as much as I loved fairies, I hoped to never see this strange man again. Until I did, anyway.

I was with Rose back then, playing in a park. Our parents are away, chatting on a bench. It was idyllic, or it was, until I saw the transparent man again—and with him, the creature. The beast.

It was vaguely goat-like, if you make a goat a centipede and make a mad sculptor create its likeness. The transparent man led it on a leash like a dog, and no one in the park paid them any attention. Even Rose.

"Hello again, little girl." The transparent man showed me his too sharp teeth. It doesn't look like a smile. "Will you scream?"

I wanted to. Oh, I wanted to *so much*! But the creature had sniffed at Rose, who still dug at the sand with the wild abandon of a kid archaeologist, and the man smirked, and I *knew* I shouldn't.

I didn't know what intuition was back then, but it helped me already. I clasped my palms against my mouth and shook my head, but no sound left me.

"So tiny, but so brave already," the man leaned forward to pat me on my head. His touch was scalding-cold. "When you grow up, you will be the center of the world."

"Maya? What are you looking at?" Rose asked me as the man turned to walk away, tugging his pet with him.

She didn't know. No one ever knew, except for Rose. I told it to her several years later, sparking her curiosity with the supernatural. She was sure that it was not a hallucination, unlike me.

***

Now I wonder if it really wasn't. And if this is so, then should I trust the dark stranger? Did he send me my nightmare? Why?

It's hard to push myself into thinking about these things, but they are obvious enough when I detach myself from the details. I am almost sure that the dark man was calling me to the church. And probably warning about town hall, either, though I don't want to believe that all the details of the dream are true.

I don't want to end on a plate. The thought sends me shivering yet again.

I've no idea what his last cryptic words meant. Or how long I've spent in this closet until the door finally opens. Behind is a tall man in a hood that covers his face. Ignoring me, he leaves a tray of food on the floor and closes the door behind him.

The tray has no meat in it, thankfully, and by now I'm hungry enough to actually eat. At least, it's something to do besides thinking about the same things over and over again.

I tried to open the door. I still have my switchblade, but it's too big to fit into the keyhole. Not that I know how to pick locks.

Some time later, there's another tray. When I try to grab the jailer's hand, he sends me staggering back with a single push.

Instead of the third tray, I see Hank with two hooded people behind him. He looks at me with an inscrutable expression on his face that makes me wonder if the barman has an evil twin.

"Come, Maya. Your questions will be answered."