"Why do you have all of this?" Syl wondered, eyes scanning the vast room filled with all kinds of artifacts and documents, ancient and modern alike. Everything in the room had been taken from the victims' houses after the children completed their sacrifices. Along with the toys, other objects were taken. All little things, but still things that represented that time.
"I do want to be educated about human culture. Not that I necessarily have to, but I'd like to know more about who I kill, besides the basic human habits and mentalities."
"You have more on humans than humans have on you." Syl thumbed through several papers from the late 1700s. "Why?"
"I am not afraid of them," he said simply.
"You know, when I was little, I thought it was pretty awesome that people were so afraid of you that they destroyed almost everything," she smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. "Glad it never occurred to me that maybe I should have been afraid of you."
"Humans are extremely predictable yet extremely unpredictable at the same time. So complex and confusing. As a child your mentality was a new variation of complex unpredictability. I know you, Ensley, you are the one human I ever chose to know and understand completely inside and out, but I never knew why you were not afraid of me, as a child."
"Like I said, it never crossed my mind," she answered with a smile as he put an arm around her shoulder. "Probably always had that connection, just didn't know it until later. You've always been so enchanting to me."
"You have always been such a rare and astounding person."
"I'm glad you think so," she replied. "So is there anything about you in here?"
"Humans wouldn't dare write anything about me," He didn't bother hiding the scorn in his voice. "Except the few things that ended up being destroyed. But it is better that way."
"If nobody knows you exist then you can do more damage, right?" She posed the question with a glimmer of enthusiasm, the same she felt when reading about everything with her brother.
"That is correct. And more of them would try to stop me, which would be incredibly annoying."
"They can't stop you. Can they?" Syl sounded worried.
"No," he assured. "I can't be killed, nor can I be permanently stopped. Not to say there haven't been countless attempts over the years, some worse than others."
"You, did they-"
He shook his head slowly to stop her. "It was all in the past, I'm fine now."
"Can I ask you something?" she said, facing him and taking his hands in hers.
"Anything."
"You know everything about me, maybe even more about me than I know, but- but," she hesitated, glancing away momentarily. "I want to know everything about you. At least, everything you're willing to tell me."
He studied her, knowing she deserved to know everything. There was hardly anything of major importance about him on earth and they had barely spoken about his life yet. But at the same time he was worried that something he would tell her would either change how innocent she is or change how she felt about him.
But why should he doubt her character and her heart? He knew her too well to even consider doubting her.
"Yes," he said suddenly. "Of course, yes. But there's too much to say, but I can show you."
"Please. Everything."
Holding her face in his hands, he began projecting images in her mind, memories of things he's seen, things he's done, things he's felt. Thousands of years' worth of memories were transferred to her in a matter of minutes. It seemed so overwhelming, but that's what she wanted. Everything from past memories to a more in-depth look into how the rituals worked from his perspective.
Observation of people and houses. The attempts to stop him, to kill him, the resulting injuries he received, and the torment he dealt in retribution. Transitioning to different kinds of media, how he views the sacrifices as pure art, how he would feed off innocent fear. She felt how much he enjoyed causing pain, and yet she felt the underlying loneliness he had told her he had.
He knew her deepest of thoughts throughout her life, and now she could finally feel some of his own thoughts from his past.
The dull sensation in her head calmed as the images and feelings faded away, the most recent being just before she had her first dream of him. She knew he had shown her things he was apprehensive about her knowing. A multitude of intense darkness and violence, which he had feared she would be repulsed by. But she wasn't. She had never been.
"I know it's not the same as with you, actually observing and coexisting," he said after everything fully faded. "I hope that wasn't too much." His voice in her mind sounded concerned, almost apologetic.
"No such thing," she replied, absentmindedly running her fingers along his chest. "I said I wanted to know everything, and I meant it."
He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. "I know," he said quietly.
His entire existence he was alone, everything he did he did alone. It was how he preferred it, but now he felt as if she had been there the whole time. It was a strange and incredible feeling.
She looked up at him, eyes full of admiration. She reached up to touch his face and neck, his skin soft and warm under her fingers. "Bughuul," she murmured, just the sound of his name sounding equally as beautiful and powerful as she knew him to be. "Your life... Thank you for showing me."
His fingers tangled delicately in her hair as he leaned to rest his forehead on hers. His velvet-smooth voice in her mind sounding so soft, so sincere, so relieved, "Thank you for letting me."