[open] you don't know me, but i know you

[cringe]

how to be a monster:
1. learn the taste of dirt and pain.
2. teach it to others till your knuckles bleed.
3. see if that makes it easier to breathe.

Such a dead world, and how he delights in it!
There are hints of waking, though. Scattered voices, where there was once nothing but wind. The scent of opportunity in the air. And so he, too, emerges - a golden, lovely thing. Handsome, almost, and he knows this, uses it when it suits. He is stronger than ever, feels power crawl through his veins - the power to see what they fear, manifest it, the power to control their minds.
(He thinks he is stronger, at least. It has been a long time since he has exercised such things.)
He sees her first, and there it is - opportunity.
He does not know her, nor she him, but he approaches her as if he does, his shadowy wings folded to his back. He moves easily, catching up to her as she dips into the trees.

“Well hello,” he says, and he smiles, though the smile itself is a thing gone rancid, “it’s good to see someone else after such a long time.”
A step closer. He is tempted to touch her, to push her, to sample her fears, but he knows he cannot do such a thing. Not yet. It is easier if they are willing, or otherwise made unsuspecting, and so he will be polite, will be charming (or, some semblance thereof), and she will see what she might have to offer him.

cringe