It approached. She shuddered, turned, checked the Subway tunnel in both directions. There was no one there, but the feeling of future graves being trodden on refused, for a few steps, to dissipate.

The voice, like evil chalk on a spotless blackboard, came from behind her. "No, don't turn round. Not yet. You're safe."

The effect was fossilising. Blood cooled, crept, froze. A half remembered step faltered to a stand. Immobilised, she saw her assailant's breath of billow from over her bare shoulder.

"I know you. You don't scare easy. All those horror films. I've seen you. You never flinch at the cheap "boo" scares. You're my last and only hope."

"That's right" she chattered through teeth not wanting to release her sobs before a bloody good chew. "I don't scare easy. The monsters never frighten me." She stood erect, waiting. "What do you want?"

A sliding (limping?) step brought him into the edge of view. "I'm cursed. So ugly, people's minds reject me. They refuse to see. Cannot hear. Won't accept." He lowered his hood and left the sanctuary of her peripheral vision. "I'm alone."

She shuddered, turned, checked the Subway tunnel in both directions. There was no one there, but the feeling of future graves being trodden on refused, for a few steps, to dissipate. For a moment, she half imagined a scrape, a sigh, a tear, but it must have been the wind.