He bared his teeth at her, stepping away. "If I had to venture a guess," he said, voice low and cold, "I would suppose that it was my meddling sister who brought you here."<span style="font-style: italic">Sister</span>was spat with venom. "She of happiness and light; the<span style="font-style: italic">lovely</span>," and this was sneered, "Dream Goddess." His nostrils flared with distaste. There was animosity there, and pain too. Years, decades, centuries perhaps, of pain and bitterness. It flashed across his face before he hid it away.<br/><br/>"Little girl, do not doubt me," he continued, scythe in hand. "I<span style="font-style: italic">am</span>a god, and more powerful than you know. I am the Dark, Bringer of Monsters and Keeper of Fear." Everything on their stage went dusky, light fleeing as shadows gathered. They were somehow thicker than normal shadows, and if they were seen out of the corner of the eye, things moved in them, strange and terrible.<br/><br/>"I know your fears, little girl, and I know pain." He clicked his fingers and a man materialized out of the shadows. He lumbered toward her, arm raised, before dispersing into nothing more than wisps in a mere moment. "You are so afraid of the world you live in, and so the terrors of the night are not so great." He looked down at her, unimpressed. "But you are not special. You are not the only one who fears their waking times more than their sleep." He flicked his wrist and the blade disappeared, leaving an ebony staff. He pressed the end to her chin, lifting it. "But my sister has seen fit to bring you here. Why, I know not. She is rather...soppy, and tends to bring people into the place-that-is-between, and they may wander until they find a better life. But you..." He walked around her, eyes narrowed. "You feel different. Perhaps she will see fit to appear to you and explain her whims to you." He folded his arms lazily. "I doubt it. She's never been terrible reliable."