Flayer laughed, a harsh and terrible note.<em>"Power?  Were I so simplistic!  I confess that you have read me quite wrong, Miss Rae.  If it were power that I craved I would have become a Lord of some isolated world, so that an entire nation of innocent people might suffer under my spontaneous whims.  Likewise, if I only wished to sew fear into the hearts of men and women in great numbers I would rise to become a Dictator, so that billions would cower before cruel weapons of war and the threat of impending invasion."</em><br/><br/>Flayer shook its head and wheezed with amusement.<em>"No.  To crave personal power and the fear of others is the mark of cowards, and the frail.  I do not need more power any more than a person needs more flesh: what they are born with will suffice.  That I am powerful is simply a fact, not some lofty goal or obsession.  Likewise, though I have tailored myself to have a frightful image, I cannot induce fear to everyone through appearance alone.  Everyone is afraid of something, but I cannot be everything at once.  Take you, for example.  You do not fear death, nor do you seem to fear me.  That makes you an object of much interest to me."</em><br/><br/>'Great,' Elizabeth thought sarcastically, 'Maybe he'll forget I'm even here and reserve Torturepalooza for the Stone-Cold Bitch here.'<br/><br/><em>"Now as to your other question..."</em>Flayer trailed off, then punctuated the statement with a burst of static; not a laugh.  It's meaning was indecipherable.<em>"Anything you could possibly give me.  The clothes on your back.  The rock sitting three centimeters to the left of your right foot.  A stray button.  I fear that mine was a trick question: anything is worth a human life, because a human life has as much worth to me as everything else in the universe.  Which is to say, none at all."</em>