Hey Nightmare, where did you get them teeth?

She asked him to come and at first, Lochlann started like he might move to her. It was an automatic response. It took everything in him to resist. He was shaking now, his hands trembling the most.

"Emily I don't hate you," he said. He couldn't say the words out loud. He couldn't bring himself to admit that he was afraid.

But he couldn't stop the terror at what would happen if he came closer.

"I don't know what will happen if I do," he said.

It wasn't okay.

Lochlann didn't think anything could ever be okay ever again.

"I'm sorry," he said again. His voice wasn't flat like it should have been, it cracked at the end, and now Lochlann burred his face in his hands. He couldn't breath. He couldn't actually cry, which made it worse, because if he wasn't a monster he should be able to cry.

But Emily was bleeding. He couldn't ignore that, not when he could smell the blood on her, when she was asking him to come closer, and he couldn't ignore how badly he wanted to come over.

Was he decent for wanting to see if she was okay? or was he more of a monster? was it only so he could get close enough to want to eat her again?

Lochlann was weak.

Emily was there, her hand on her arm, and his body betrayed him. He wanted her close. He felt better with her being close.

Lochlann was addicted to many things but women was one of them.

He unfolded enough to let her in before he realized what was happening and he wanted to scramble backwards, to reject her advances, but there was no where for him to go. He was pressed against the edge of the bed and the floor and oh gosh there was blood.

Her head was on his chest and his arm folded over her.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He couldn't stop the terror.

He couldn't stop himself from reaching his hand tentatively towards her head, where the blood was, and stopping. He felt dizzy. Emily was the one bleeding but he thought he might pass out.

"I didn't want you to see that," he whispered. It was a confession. "I didn't want you to know those things about me."

Emily was crying into his shirt and he tried so hard to stroke her hair and make her feel better but he didn't know how.

She knew what he was.

How could she look at him now without seeing what he was?

Lochlann could barely look into a mirror without seeing himself as a monter.

When she said she loved him, Lochlann jerked as if he was shot.

It was everything he wanted and everything he knew he couldn't have.

"It's not real," he said.

He hated himself even more the moment he said it.

Lochlann closed his eyes and rested his head on the bed. His hand was still on her back, still holding her.

"I want it to be real," he admitted. His voice was quiet now, small, as though he was trying not to say it too loudly.

"What I am is a monster, and part of being a monster is I make people like me, I make people want to....want to like me more," he said. "And then I eat them."


He was still shaking. He hated himself for what he was going to say next, but what other way was there.

"I think it's wrong for me to want you the way that I do," he said. "I think if we keep doing this I'm going to eat you."

She was holding him tightly and Lochlann wanted nothing more than to never let go of her.

He wanted to laugh with her and say, cmon, lets get your head looked at, and take her into the bathroom to clean it up. He wanted to make her a cup of tea. He wanted to get back into bed with her and fall asleep holding her.

He wanted to believe that she was right. He wanted to believe they could try.

He wanted to believe, deep down, that he wasn't a monster.

He kept hoping it'd be a mistake, that he'd wake up one day to a cosmic misunderstanding, and someone would snatch him up and say, "oh! Sorry Lochlann, we put you in the wrong body. You were supposed to be human all along!"

But truthfully he would hate that just as much as he hated being this, this lie that he was.

"Emily, that's the problem," Lochlann said. His voice broke again, wavering, and he almost stopped talking, but he forced himself to keep going. "I want to try. I want nothing more than to try. Right now, i want to kiss you so badly it's making my head spin."

She was bleeding and he could only think about kissing her. He disgusted himself.

"I hate what I am," he said. "I hate that I'm even alive. But I would never, ever forgive myself if I...if I hurt you."

he swallowed and closed his eyes again.

"And I think you would let me hurt you," he whispered.

Emily's mouth was on his for just a moment and, in that moment, Lochlann hated himself more because he wanted her to ignore him. He wanted her to keep doing things like this. He wanted to be the sort of person Emily thought he was. He wanted to be the lie.

He held her tight, letting himself enjoy this, because it was the last time he expected to hold her like this.

"I don't think there is a way, Emily," he whispered.

He pressed his face against her shoulder and, then, finally, he forced himself to let go.


"We should have someone look at your head," he swallowed.