**Two days in the future**

A pitch-black silhouette of a broken down church is barely visible against the starry sky. Under different circumstances I'd pause and marvel at this scenery, but now I think only about reaching it—my only hope to hide from the madmen that chase me.

I had never run that fast in my life. The rush of blood and my own footsteps drown all the other noises. My mouth can't grasp just enough air, no matter how I try. My legs, too used to pressing car pedals instead of walking, threaten to give out on the next step. Or the next one. Or the one after it.

But as soon as I slow down, a shout from behind always gives me a second breath. Seventh, by now.

The knee-tall grass bends easily beneath my feet, but hides unexpected potholes, especially now that I can't see a thing. Stumbling upon them is inevitable. I fall and pick myself up for the third time, and now my pursuers are close enough that the light of their torchlights fall on my back.

"Stop, you stupid woman!" someone cries out so closely I want to glance back. It takes an immense effort of will not to, but books have taught me what a bad idea this is.

"Go back, Maya! You are running towards your own death!"

"Don't let her get to the church!"

After hearing this, I run even faster. A new force gives me strength—pure spite. I have little hopes of beating a crowd of men on my own, but I want to at least anger them the best I could before they go down.

The church draws near. Once, it must've been a small, but pretty building; now it's a skeleton of itself, with a caved ribcage of wooden supports. There's no shelter to protect me—it's pointless to hide behind the doors when half of the walls are gone. But this isn't why I stop dead in my tracks.

Thirty feet from the church, right between me and it, he stands, as if blocked by an invisible wall. Tall, dark... And very dark, pitch black, darker than the emptiness between the stars. The color is so deep it makes the figure clearly visible even now, in near darkness. The pale spot of his face is a stark contrast to the rest of him, and the two inkwells of the creature's eyes are a stark contrast to his skin.

"It's *it*! Quick, catch the woman before it snatches her!" someone shouts at my back, springing me to run twenty more feet towards the figure that silently beckons.

Now we are only a dozen feet away from each other. It, or he, is really a monster. There's no denying it from this close. And no denying that he's stunning. Like a predator, he could entice stupid humans with his beauty alone, making them walk right into their grasp. Just like me.

He smiles like he has read my thoughts and approves of them. His hair moves on its own against the wind, like it's a nest of snakes... Or tentacles.

Shouts and footsteps from behind make me take two steps forward. I look around frantically, but all I get is that I'm just a fragile piece of glass between a rock and a hard place. Ahead of me is a beautiful monster the likes of which shouldn't have existed on Earth, and behind me is a mob of at least twenty men in creepy hoods with lassos and torchlights.

It's a slight relief when they slow down, clearly afraid of the monster as much as I am. Now they prowl towards me like hunters afraid to frighten away their prey.

This is when the monster moves. Its movements are smooth, but as weird as its form. Still, for all intents and purposes, it reaches out a hand for me until it meets some invisible border.

"Come to me, my little Lock," the monster speaks quietly, but I can hear every word as clear as day. His voice is as smooth and dark as the substance from which he appears to be made of. "Be not afraid."

My eyes, already wide in fright and in attempts to see more in the surrounding night, widen even more. I swallow.

My pursuers still approach, and I find myself making slow steps towards the monster. Unlike it, these men gave me no hope that I would leave their town alive.

"Don't listen to it! It will kill you! In terrible ways, swear!" one of the men shouts.

"Come!" the monster repeats more insistently. "You knew where you were going, my beautiful Lock. It's too late to turn around."

I examine my two options again and take a deep breath. For a second, my mind is clear of all thoughts, and in this emptiness, the voice of my intuition is the loudest.

I turn my heels and charge towards the monster, who now stretches both of his inky hands towards me.

"Stop her!" someone yells just as a lasso flies inches away from my neck.

More follow suit. But by now, only several steps separate me from the invisible edge of the monster's territory. The last step is a leap, one that ends me with my hands planted in the ground, but my neck is still free of ropes.

I prepare to jump up, to keep running towards whatever meager shelter is on the horizon, when something grabs my sides and lifts me in the air.

I gasp at the sight of a giant, pure black tentacle, the other end of which is attached to the monster. The monster, whose smile is now wide enough to show teeth. Whose darkness flows from him to all sides like from a sinking oil tanker and raises in the air, enveloping me like a thick blanket. My panicked attempts to break free are as pointless as trying to kick down a brick wall.

The darkness swallows me whole—and I can do nothing but scream.