The lounge didn’t empty promptly enough. More than half were sitting down in a glistening goop. The ones who made it outside were probably doing the same, just in the cold. I heard foreign speech – problematic, as they will be asking awkward questions but that was problem for afterwards.


    I didn’t notice when monster entered, but he was by my side and tossing the bloody rag into the fire. The living bandage around my neck has extended upwards to cover weeping wound under the hair. My neck was wet, but when I touched it there was slick translucency instead of bold colour. It was him. He was bleeding.


    Unflustered man was holding me up even though I stood firmly on my legs. The squirming within the injury just wouldn’t stop. It hurt and I complained, “Stop that. It’s fine. Heal them!”


    “The mouths will suffer no damage from this and you’ve dented your skull.”


    Usually pristine man looked a little perspired himself. The poison constructed specifically for him was hard at work. Mouths will be fine, but he will be sustaining some damage. I bit my lip in shame. How could I forget I was a walking bioweapon? I bit back a worthless apology.


    “Who knew morning light could be so destructive? I mean, I suspected after that time we found some moonshine, but this is just as impressive.”


    “Mmm,” monster hummed through a thick layer of sheen, “you are rapidly cementing yourself as the sun in my life so I suppose it’s appropriate.”


    He wasn’t mad. He was… flirting? Sweeping problems under the rug and receiving outside help to maintain the delusion always put me at ease. Pressure within me dropped immediately and the panic abated. However, the monster was still bleeding and I had no reference sheet for all these fake emotions he chose to exhibit.


    “Ah, I always aspired to be a fireball of pure chaos. Sounds fun, no?”


    “Not in particular. That’s an unsustainable existence… but you’re well underway to fulfilling your self-destructive aspirations. Congratulations must be in order.”


    “Yay,” I said mock enthusiastically and then hissed, “Stop that, seriously. Take care of yourself. Your mascara’s all runny.”


    “Crying helps me cope,” he delivered it so deadpan I actually thought he was serious for a brief minute. In the end, I concluded the sheen could be a protective layer of sorts and decided to stick with that.


    Having calmed down, I finally deigned to spare some of my attention towards the burning reality all around me. The handful of still moving survivors must have stopped the highly concerned tide from flooding back in. Their bloody appearances, along with new bunch of very small children will require terrific gaslighting abilities to explain this away.


    That’s all Dentist’s very valid worries aside.


    “What are we doing about all that?” I gestured towards the door.


    “What do you want to do?”


    “Fuck… I don’t know. I wish they all shut up and fucked right off.”Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    When silence echoed away in form of crunching footsteps, I rubbed my face tiredly and rejoiced I didn’t thoughtlessly spout more radical measures. “You know I wasn’t serious though, right?” I had to ask.


    Monster shrugged so choppily it was more of a wince and spoke, “It beat my suggestion.”


    Did I even want to know? “Aren’t you like, stuffed to brim?”


    “Always room for dessert.”


    I nodded after consideration, “That’s fair. If I ever stumbled upon a buffet, I’d need to be carried out too. Likely feet first. Anyway. Will they remember?”


    “If you want to.”


    What was this, last wish fulfilment agency? Did I rub right accessories at long last? Was I in possession of some dangerous artefact? I wasn’t big enough person not to use this.


    “Can you… pause cognition of the townsfolk until… er, you’ve fixed yourself? And erase whatever weird shit they’ve just seen.”


    Something akin to a shiver ran through the land. The doorway was suddenly ominous. It was bright and sunny, but I wouldn’t have stepped through that door even for a most delightful feast. As a matter of fact, I subconsciously backed away from the expressionless man too, even though he radiated nothing of the malice I felt outside. A sense I couldn’t name was just aware the human shape nearby wasn’t at all what he appeared and was indeed part of the problem. It’s like I could smell it. If I closed my eyes I would see a million writhing grippers and feelers in place of the imitation. I could feel him crawling on my skin.


    This visceral reaction was as rational as it was irrational. I knew the malice wasn’t directed towards me. He wasn’t even doing anything terrible. It just felt wrong, out of place, too big for existence. I grit my teeth and reached out to grab onto the very tip of hem. I missed, grossly miscalculating the distance as though on purpose. I couldn’t make myself touch it. This was some sort of intrinsic reaction. I should be plenty content not having ran… yet. I stood way too close next to a demonic predator. I was but a meal.


    He took me by the hand and I was startled to find that appendage having five fingers. Monster’s flesh was warm, not clammy. No longer oozing, at least not where we touched. There he goes pretending to be human again, I thought bitterly, but he clearly wasn’t and there was no mistaking it. The oppressive presence wasn’t budging an inch as though… he was letting me get used to it. I was wrong. For once he wasn’t hiding at all. But there was no overcoming the innate fear. This wasn’t even a significant portion of him. A mere fraction. What did this godlike presence want with me?


    When I was about to fall flat into a whimpering mess, monster’s arms caught and embraced me.


    “Enough,” I breathed out through clattering teeth and sagged as the presence abated. My fear-heightened senses told me he was still all around, but further away.


    I guess I’ll need to stop insisting he go full monster on my ass. This was not doable.


    “You’re just… so… big,” I squealed innuendos in my best mocking tone.


    “You’re much too tight,” monster joined the banter without batting an eye.


    “Me? Puh-lease. That hadn’t been the case since I was half my size.”


    “Let’s revisit this this line of conversation when you’re half my size.”


    My uncomfortable truths which won many a verbal battle meant nothing here. Frustrating. Also, rude - pointing out I’d forever be a miniscule bug in comparison. I pretended it didn’t bother me, “Sure. Wave it around proudly, no need for that ruler. I already yielded.”


    “Thank you for reaching for me,” he whispered to my ear.


    For an absolute existence such as him that was a completely different experience. I would have wanted to think nobody else could dare to touch this personification of death, but at least that one being did. I was nothing special, only perhaps in a sense I was of no real danger to him. Safe plush toy to curl up around.


    “If I… Ever became that big. A threat to you. Would you still want me?”


    “You’re a threat to me right now. Those mouths aren’t moving not because I forgot about it.”


    Well, fuck.


    “Is there a version of variables in which you’d want me?” monster asked and left me astounded. Didn’t take him for a type to care about trivial things such as opinions. Not when he could just roll over nations.


    “In what way?” Unusually, it was finally my turn to ask for clarification. Did not feel like entering binding agreement with primordial god over a pet ownership.


    “Any.”


    “Wow, that narrows it down so much,” I let the sarcasm drip all over the place, but took mercy upon the socially challenged creature. “Do I want to be a pet project of seeing how long an alien can keep fragile local alive? No. Do I want to be a chained-up slave, dependant on your good grace and whims? Also, no. And I don’t mean physical chains – after all, you’re probably perfectly capable of yanking people around from afar.”


    I fell into consideration of less terrible fates, such as being friends. That’s what we already were… weren’t we? Sure, if I ever forgave him for killing my other friends. If I ever forgot about him wanting to trap me, and forcing me to rip apart the stolen side of me.


    “If I wanted to get away from you now, would you let me?” I asked after a little bit.


    “You would die, I can’t let that happen.”


    Back to square one. It’s as if none of those things happened. To one such as him, they probably didn’t. My hate meant nothing, because in the end emotions were irrational. Insignificant. And, sure - in the grand scheme of things they were, and I had to disregard my personal feelings a lot in my life and especially that particular line of work a lot. I guess I was being decidedly petty here.


    Was this because I was finally in a situation with tiniest bit of leverage? I could hurt this person if he stepped too far. I was not entirely powerless. That helped.


    “Good talk,” I patted his forearm. “I’m going to sleep. Let my friends do whatever they want if they want. There’s nothing left to hide from them. They had to find out sometime.”