He doesn't really know her. She doesn't really know him. One day, secrets like that build up a dam and it's always matter of when it breaks. She takes it well, though, expression like cool iron but her body is still, her brain rushing through a thousand possibilities.

She places a single hand on the table. Not a thing happens but it wasn't supposed to; as if she'd do that here, not until it was necessary.

"You see this table as it is here but this table exists in multiple.... realities. For us, right now, it's just a normal damn table, clean inspite of the cat air. But in another reality... it'd be crumbling away, as if the city had have been abandoned a long, long time. The walls would peel away, some doors are made of flesh."

And then,"That's where the monsters exist. In a ghost town they can't ever escape; their prison."