[Her hand covering his — gloved, as always when he leaves the house — comes as a surprise. But not an unwelcome one. Much like the rest of her, the action is rough around the edges, but despite the sharp tug he can feel the softer intent in her touch. He can feel the gentle pulse of manna spreading from the link of their hands. While she may not be overly fond of him, they do share an undeniable understanding that enables synchrony.]

What's inside of me is a living darkness. It's both a part of me and its own entity with its own will.

[Like a second heartbeat, burrowed deep inside him. Always waiting for a chance to claw its way out and spread its wings.]

My theory is that the monster comes out at night because it becomes easier for it to assert its will over mine when I'm asleep. Like sleepwalking, but with claws and fangs. Now, this next part I'm less certain about... But I believe it also responds to distress. The monster craves conflict.