“Since I seem to be shopping for a new coat, shall we get something for you, too?” monster offered.


    Great idea. New me needs to look different, too. Desperate for distraction, I asked for too enthusiastically, “Can we drop by in some body shop and grab me a new face too?” I’ve never been inside any of the optional luxurious shops, scraggly orphan that I was, but surely, skincare isle must include replacement patches at very least.


    “Anything you wish for,” rasping intensity assured me and I got impression of him being pleased for whatever reason.


    “Tacky,” I frowned at him back.


    Several hazy steps forward and we were inside an empty, but shiny mall. It was a painfully familiar sight. I’d occasionally pickpocket here right until figuring out the layout wasn’t optimal for escape. Sour memories almost ruined the fragile balance of my mind, but then I saw window-case full of life-like masks and burst out laughing. I had no idea how a legal and out-in-the-open organ market would look like, but this didn’t disappoint.


    “Hey, how you think I try it on?” I pointed while clearing tears off my eyes. “Get an attendant, who’s actually a surgeon?” Because from up close they ceased to look all that artificial and crafted. As tasteless as the merchandise was, the display sold it completely. Clean and sleek body parts didn’t look remotely out of place in this commerce hub.


    Though the dream was starting to drift into more familiar ground. As I looked into empty socket holes, began to wonder about their donors. Too pretty. Nobody would have volunteered those.


    Big hands clasped my shoulders and I jumped, unsuccessfully. “It’s a dream. They’re not real,” gritty voice whispered in my ear, pushing away my bloodier delusions. “Just imagine adjusting each of your features to match what you see.”


    Apparently it was as easy as thinking about it. My dream - my rules, it would seem. Okay, makes sense. Shrugged and got to flexing my imaginary muscles.


    I wandered into the shop to look for a mirror. The face was wrong all over and appalled scowl only improved it. I laughed again and kept trying to fix it. How much worse my life would have been if I was ugly? Because it wasn’t only my mouth that got me out of various messes. Something about my panicked wide-eyed expression soothed my predators-to-be and victims alike.


    I know for a fact that being actually pretty would have landed me into nastier cages than what I’ve already had displeasure of visiting. People oh so dearly loved keeping beautiful things under lock and key. It was best not to catch the eye of too many.


    What I meant to say was that I liked my face. But now I wasn’t even sure how it looked like anymore. Restored the disfigured features back into semblance of average, then gave it a rest and just browsed the morbid isles. Faces with closed lids looked almost normal. Peaceful. Not at all cadaverous.


    “You’re not getting anything?” I asked, keeping an eye on the eerily still set of horns that stuck out above cases even from this far away. Out of habit I kept looking over my shoulder, waiting for an angry shopkeeper to chase my broke ass out, but there was nobody else.


    “Pick something for me,” he suggested and I huffed. What a way of getting out of a chore.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    “What do you usually chose when you want to blend in? You had to have visited big cities before.”


    Dismissive huff before he spoke from right behind me, “That’s what mouths are for. I don’t need to blend in with anyone.”


    I crossed my arms and stared at the dark hood, “You’re just afraid to have it because you’ve no idea how face works.”


    “Yes,” monster admitted unscrupulously. I expected more resistance from this arrogant asshole, but I suppose at least he wasn’t stubborn.


    I kept looking into the impenetrable darkness but failed to form any definite features. His tone oftentimes implied a laid-back smirk, but I couldn’t marry it with the tense, looming mountain in front of me. No, he wasn’t all that tall without the coils, but the rigid presence forced to expect trouble and glares. Spoke too soon. I might be at a loss with the task, too.


    Monster slowly raised arm to pull back the head covering. “How’s this?” But he didn’t move face to speak and my lip pulled back in subconscious disgust.


    “What’s this, one of your mouths? That’s cheating.” I was unimpressed.


    A finger pointed behind me, to something I had previously stared at. I made a grimace. The creature was far better at shape shifting than me. Well, no surprise there I guess. I looked back at my companion, who had the blankest, most unfocused gaze seeing right into the great beyond. And something was definitely missing. Like, at least one fourth of the twisted up personality.


    Between the lack of horns and inept use of eyes I wondered if he felt as disabled as he looked. Face didn’t fit him either, but I couldn’t zero in what would be more appropriate. Strolled down the morbid isle, quickly browsing everything in sight. Dispassionate neutral faces provided no basis for personality behind them. But there was none anyway, was there?


    I poked one of the flesh masks and cold eyebrow stayed crooked. It wasn’t about how the face looked, but rather the owner’s nonverbal capability of which my monster had none. Not in human terms anyway. This exercise was pointless.


    I turned on my heel to be faced with quietly following shadow. He was frowning, too. Now surprised. Eyebrows lowered and lips set in a thin line. Monster was copying me. Well, there was always that. I sighed and we both grew resigned.


    I picked up his hand and tugged after myself.


    “Let’s go find you some hair,” I said, wondering if there were any real shops for such minor cosmetic nonessentials. Was there ever? I knew for a fact the dream had them. And a shop for hands, and feet and eyeballs. I didn’t gawk around me particularly attentively anymore. My nightly visions would always take turn for the worse the longer it went on.


    “There,” creature I was dragging along pointed out and I breathed out air I didn’t realise to be holding, although shelves full of human hair were hardly an improvement.


    I brushed away the mental discomfort, donned a fake smile and put the first polychromatic mop on to hide my black hair.


    “What strikes your fancy?” I asked with eagerness I didn’t feel. Each time I looked at the unhooded face I got startled at the lack of the majestic crown. He’d need a lot of hair to make up for the loss of that.


    When monster reached for red wig, his fake smile tensed up and I forced myself to relax. He didn’t end up trying that, but one nearby. What we learned several exhibits later was that normal haircuts did not fill in for the extravagance monster ought to possess. Longer hair? Much, much longer.


    “How about that,” it was just lengthy straight hair, but the off-white colour reminded me of what he’d shed. “Oh. Can you make yourself hear through that, too?”


    “I can,” he said and hairstyle thickened, the ends curled.


    I made an impressed sound. Thick mane did look very nice, and moreover it suit the monster. Very human-looking ancient horror. Just one thing…


    “Do you think this place got clothes that aren’t made for a cannibal get-together?” I really didn’t feel like perusing any more body parts today. At the pace it was going, it wouldn’t be just parts out there anymore.


    Monster’s head did a swivel from left to right and he sighed, “How much do you need to hate on my skin? I’ve had this longer than you’ve been alive.”


    “Yea. Or my parent’s parents.”


    “Mm…” He made a sound as if about to speak, then eyes grew distant as though remembering. He was delving deep in this human act.


    “What?” I prompted.


    “Your ancestors did not especially like it even when it was peak of the fashion either.”


    Understandable, but I had to ask. “You sure it was the coat, and not the horns? And what do you mean… ancestors...” as if he’d actually met them. He has, hasn’t he? Loitering around for hundreds of years, he’d have to have met literally everyone. “Great, all I needed to reach peak happiness was to know my family used to be rich and I am a secret princess in the dumpsite.”


    Breathtakingly blond demon made another reluctant sound but went on, “No. Your lineage consisted of serfs and labourers.”


    “Ah,” I exclaimed, unsure which was worse. “What, not even a drop of blue blood?” That was impressive all on its own. Not that it didn’t sting.


    “Can’t be sure, but I didn’t smell or taste your ancestry in the upper echelons.” Ouch. Predetermined to be a loser. Which suddenly explains so much.


    I frowned, discontent starting to simmer beneath my skin. “Wait, did you stalk my entire bloodline?”


    “No, I just checked my memories.”


    “Ah,” I exclaimed, astonished. Pretty badass. I couldn’t even remember if I went to bed last night. “Oh look, an actual pants store.” I ran out after spying something ordinary outside the front windows.