The first day of her week was spent curled in the corner as far away from her bed as possible, eyes staring at the wedge of impenetrable darkness beneath the frame.

She didn't know why. She had lived and slept and worked in this room all her life, but for some reason, she couldn't make herself go and lay down above the monster.

She shivered with cold, but refused to grab the blanket from her bed.

Oily waves of dread continued to wash over her.

***

The second day, her stomach started growling. Still, she stayed far away from her bed, only creeping out of her room to drink sips of water from a bathroom tap. After all, only eating had been taken away from her.

Head resting back against the wall, her eyes slowly drooped close.

***

She finally gave up on the third day and carefully jumped into her bed, the mattress creaking ominously.

She only winced and settled down, trying to gather warmth.

However, her stomach grumbled, nearly wrenching in half.

Three days without a meal had passed, and the entirety of the time, Nerezza had spent it curled up into herself, hiding in her dark room.

And still, that aura persisted.

It wept an ominous feeling that almost pulsed and made her feel even more weary. She was tempted to say it had gotten worse in the days that she had been watching it.

She groaned and rolled so she faced the wall, away from the yawning chasm of darkness that was the rest of her room. Though, to call it a room would be somewhat of a lie. In a house of grandeur, the girl'd been spared a somewhat refurbished closet. White walls, icy wooden floors, no working lights or heaters, and a single bed was all that made up her humble abode, but even her bed was somewhat of an eye-sore.

She trembled beneath a thin blanket, and not entirely because of the cold. Another added downside was the...thing beneath her bed. She only knew that it was there because there was nowhere else for it to hide in her unfurnished room. And she knew it was in there with her.

It had been a steady presence ever since she was young, when such fears of a monster under her bed were laughed at. And though her parents had dissuaded her from ever complaining about it again, she knew they had felt it. It was enough to make her room somewhat of a safe-haven from the adults despite the awful feeling she always had being in it. Still, she could rest, work, and do everything in peace away from the watchful eye of her mother and father.

Nerezza wished she could delve into the bed itself and bury herself in its fillings just for another ounce of warmth and safety from her own thoughts.

Finally, delirious with hunger and tire and the cold and weariness, she snapped at the growing ache in her stomach. "Would you stop that, you stupid thing? I'm trying to sleep."

However, all trace of sleepiness drained out of her as a deep and rumbling reply came back. She could barely understand it, but the abominable feeling in the room lessened considerably as if in answer. What had been a shouting and quaking in her bones turned into nothing but a slight, constant chill in her room.

Nerezza, instead of jumping up, only squeezed her eyes shut and burrowed further, trying to wish everything away. The thing beneath her had spoken.

It's not real, none of this is real, not real! Nerezza furiously thought. It's all in your mind. Fake. It doesn't exist. Just a story book. Fantasy. Imagination.

She believed herself less and less.

***

Nerezza was sapped of strength. What had been gurgles and grumbles had turned into roars of thunder that twisted her center until she was nauseous with the feel of it. Though she was still allowed water, it seemed as if her entire throat and tongue and stomach had dried up into a desert that scathed. Her vision swam.

At some point in her twisting and turning, she had ended up facing the room again. Her half-delirious mumbles of foods she would eat as soon as the week was out had turned into whispers as her voice grew raspy. The terrible aura had returned to full force, as well.

"Food," she whispered to it, brows furrowed heavily as a pang of hunger overtook her. "I want steak and potatoes and chicken and rice and pork and beans and salads and soups and breads-" she continued rambling on. She almost thought that imagining eating all the food made the hunger lessen in her eroded mind.

Something scraped across the floor.

Nerezza's eyes squeezed shut once more and she huddled into herself, trying to mumble over the sound. If she ignored it, it would go away.

The sound came again, sliding closer to her bed.

Nerezza squeaked.

The scraping slid across her floor, even closer.

She pulled the blanket above her bed.

"Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone!" she whispered aloud, voice frantic. Silence filled her room.

After a few moments, she hesitantly poked her head above the blanket, brown eyes searching the darkness. There was nothing there. When she peeked over the edge of her bed to the wooden floors, she was affronted with a blast of hot air, enough so that she reeled back in fear.

Nothing happened for several moments, right up until Nerezza finally smelt it.

Food.

She leaned back over the bed, no longer afraid of the heat spiraling up in delicious ringlets. There, next to her bed, a plate of hot meat, noodles, and sauce sat. Though her mouth watered and her head swirled for the food, she realized that reaching for the plate meant reaching her hand across the thick expanse of darkness beneath her bed, where an oily feeling leaked into the room. The fear was almost enough to stop her.

Almost.

Her pale hand darted out and back in in seconds, picking up the heavy plate specifically so nothing spilled. Slowly, carefully, she reeled herself back into her bed.

She recognized the meal. It was the one she had placed - and left, by accident - in the microwave just in case she needed a fail-safe just some four-odd days ago. Nerezza only pondered a moment before drizzling a healthy dose of sauce on the meat and noodles and gouging in with the singular fork on the plate. She didn't question how the food had arrived.

She grumbled with delight as it filled her stomach deliciously - and she was momentarily overcome with the taste of it. Yet, she soon realized that she was left with evidence of her eating with no way to get rid of it. She looked around her room, searching for hiding places. There was only one in a room with no closet or furniture.

Right beneath her bed.

She sighed and slowly placed the plate to the wooden floor, a curtain of dark hair swinging around her peripheral vision. At this point, she was almost sure she had imagined the food arriving at her bed mysteriously - and the thought of the faint mumbled voice from before seemed all too fake to her less-delusional brain.

Still.

"Thank you, fake thing that doesn't exist in any state, country, or Realm. I know you don't exist, but thanks for the food." She chewed on her lip, glancing up to the barely noticeable crack of light beneath her door. Her eyes had become so adjusted, she could see even that. "I need to hide that I ate...can you...take care of this too?"

There was a small rumble that she shied away from, and an inky shadow crept forward. She couldn't help herself. Nerezza yelped and jerked away from the slithering oil, that sense of despair creeping up over her. She clambered back over sheets that were suddenly cold, finding herself sandwiched into the corner of her bed. She raised the blanket up protectively.

The shadows gathered into the shape of something humanoid, but as it moved, it quickly became a blob again. Nerezza's eyes were used to the darkness after several days of it, but the shadowing before her was something...else.

Her throat felt tight and near screaming as the black bled away, and she was at once confronted with a human. Albeit, one with two long and protruding horns from the top of their head.

They held their hands up placatingly, swathes of void-darkness doubling as clothes over entirely pale skin.

Nerezza let loose a reedy scream. This isn't real, isn't real, not real, oh my god-

The demon-person-shadow-thing's eyes widened and they leapt forward, holding a clawed hand over her face, but at the last minute not touching her.

She started hyperventilating, the scream disappearing. That eeking fear from the thing in front of her swept across her features until her nerves were pulled taut and her heart was hammering.

"Shhh, I'm sorry. I thought a human form would be better for you," a slow, articulating voice said. It sounded male to her, but she couldn't be sure with the shifting tones it seemed to have.

The person frowned, and then the terrible aura they leaked dissipated until, once again, it was only a small chill. They straightened.

"I'm sorry, I thought you had gone back over your bed so I could come out, and then you were gaping at me and I realized that appearing as something like you would be less frightening and - oh, I think was wrong." Nerezza stared as the person - who she definitely thought was a man, now - blabbed uselessly, trying to explain.

He scrubbed his face for a second, seeming utterly overwhelmed. "I shouldn't be here, shouldn't be showing myself to the human, I shouldn't be talking, but you looked so desperate and I couldn't wait anymore," he said, and then proceeded in some terrible gibberish she didn't understand.

Nerezza was too scared to say or do anything and only watched. Though she was no longer led by his demonic feeling thing, she still felt her own fear. But even that was edging away. He had brought her food, and whether he knew it or not, had given her a safe place to stay away from her parents for several years - even if she, herself, had often dreaded being in the room.

The man held out a hand. "I'm Sethry. At least, I think that's how you say it in your tongue."

Nerezza, again, stared at the hand, mouth working to try and form words. It was pale and looked utterly human, and just about everything else - from his long midnight hair, dark eyes, and lean frame - looked utterly human. What did he want her to do with it? Did he know what he was doing? Perhaps he was expecting something entirely different.

Nerezza went with her gut.

Slowly, she reached out, almost physically feeling the space between their outstretched fingers.

And she shook his hand.

***

How I met your mother.