Ezekiel

I take a sharp breath and shake my head in disbelief.

"No, no… Please, tell me you are lying, too. Or that I'm dreaming again…"

"The truth is the truth. I warned her, as I have warned others, but they aren't you, my poor Lock. It's hard to reach them from here." The monster's voice is low and soothing, but his eyes are two bottomless, inhuman voids.

Eyes are mirrors of the soul, but these jet orbs reflect nothing. Less than nothing. They are black holes that would consume my soul if I stare into them for too long. Or at least, it looks like it–and despite my fear, something in my monkey brain compels me to gaze into the abyss.

I forcefully look aside and decide to call the monster Zeke. Giving the shadow-tentacle-monster a nickname that could belong to any normal guy makes him a little less scary.

"Please, Zeke…" I hug myself for comfort. When I feel something touch my leg, I jerk away with a squeal. The oily tentacle that tried to climb it freezes before slowly retracting back into the lower part of Zeke's body.

I rub my leg where the tentacle has touched it and send its owner a glare. "Please, don't touch me."

He gives me another of his mysterious Mona Lisa smiles and tilts his head to the side. "I merely wished to comfort you. I mean you no harm."

The idea makes me shudder, even if a tiny, decisively weird part of me finds it appealing. I do need comfort, but… hugs from a tentacle monster? This is too much for a single night. Yes, a monster, and I have to remind myself that he isn't human and I can't judge what happens in his head. Why would a monster comfort a human like me if not for something decisively nefarious?

"Thanks… for the sentiment, I guess. But let's keep a respectful distance from each other."

My shoulders fall as my thoughts return to Rose. This brief argument was a distraction, but I came here for answers, and as terrifying as they are, I can't run away from them.

"Zeke, who… did this all to Rose? Why? If it wasn't you…"

"She was too curious." Zeke shakes his head. "She not merely strove for knowledge, which would've been forgivable. Maybe even worthy. The foolish woman wanted to share it with the world… And knowledge like that which can be found here," he gestures around, "is too dangerous to be spread freely."

"But who? Who did this?" I have to know. Forget revenge—but that person needs to be served justice.

Whoever it is. I want to trust Zeke's promises, and not only because I want to feel safe again. Despite his appearance, Zeke has a certain suaveness, a certain charm–which could all be a lie. Hank was charming, too–and then he kidnapped me.

"Those who hide in the tall grass. And that's all I will say for now, because knowledge is a poison."

"But that doesn't explain a thing!" I slap my thigh. "Who are they? What are you? What's up with this secret society if kidnappers? Why the hell do you call me a Lock all the time?!"

My eyes burn with tears that want to break through, and I don't try to stop them.

"Ah, my weeping Lock…" Zeke shifts closer. My vision is blurry with wetness, but I see concern in the lines of his furrowed eyebrows. But his black eyes are still impenetrable and unreadable.

He stretches his arms towards me, and I'm tempted to let him embrace me. For a moment I hesitate, but then my eyes catch a sight of a tentacle curled on the floor, and jerk away. I hug myself harder and silently shake my head.

Zeke shifts away and watches me cry in total silence. Eventually, my tears dry, and the worst of my fear and sorrow pass, leaving behind only tired numbness.

"You need rest, my tired Lock," he says. I don't even raise my eyes at him. "You will be safe at night with me. When the morning comes, I will tell you more. Show you more."

This sounds reasonable enough. I think I've had enough revelations for today. It's hard enough to accept that magic and monsters exist. I know that to shy away from the answers is no better than trying to hide from monsters under a blanket, but I had one breakdown already today, and I don't look forward to another.

I trust Zeke to not eat me in my sleep—if he wanted to, he didn't need to wait or lie. I am helpless against him, but whatever his motives are, they don't seem to include my immediate death.

Sadly, the old church has nothing even remotely resembling a bed. I'd try to sleep on the grass outside, but the old stone floor is at least dryer. I don't know if I will fall asleep on it, but I find a spot and lie down.

Zeke still hovers around me. He definitely doesn't know what to do with guests.

"Hey, Zeke, could you maybe… turn around? It's really creepy when you watch me sleep."

"Is it?" He tilts his head. "But I always watch you sleep. You had no problem before."

"W-what?!" I jump up. "How?"

"I see this entire city. I see humans scuttling through the streets, their bleak emotions, the self-loathing they drown in drinks. Next to them you shine so deliciously…" Zeke's eyelids lower. The gaze he turns on me is hungry—but not for food. It scares me either way, but it's not the terror I grow familiar with in this place—this fear is closer to a fright of a horror movie.

It's exciting. I shouldn't be excited, but I am. No one had looked at me this way before—few people looked at me at all. I am decisively easy to miss.

"W-well… It would still be nice if you looked away. You're going to burn holes in me if you keep staring at me like that."

"If you so wish, my beautiful Lock," Zeke says and turns around.

He's still too close, but that's something, at least. I turn away from him and try to ignore how hard and cold the floor is. My muscles are going to be so sore tomorrow…

At least I'm still alive—but for how long?