I have a question for you, dear reader.

Have you ever walked into a room and met a fae?
 
Not the friendly kind, but a foul Unseelie creature with gangly limbs and bleached skin? The kind that snarls as you enter, guttural and predatory? The kind that freezes you in place with its eyes. There's something terribly wrong with the eyes. You watch as it uncoils from the shadows. It's taller than it once looked. Part of you wonders how you didn't see it earlier.
 
Have you felt your heart racing, though your legs refuse to move? Have you felt time slow down as the creature crosses the room in a blink of an eye?
 
Blink.
 
It is hunched in the corner, head tilted to focus on you. The eyes glisten like black beetles, despite the lack of light in the room.
 
Blink.
 
It is in front of you, close enough to put out a hand and touch it. You can hear bones grinding as it reaches for you.
 
Have you shuddered in fear, when it places clawed fingers atop you head, under your chin. Tilting your head up. Wanting you to look at it?
No. It wants more than recognition from you this time. It tilts your head, exposing your neck.
 
Have you ever squirmed as its mouth found your artery? Have you felt hot breath against your skin when it probes your pulse? Felt your heartbeat stutter as you realize the pulse it is seeking is the pulse that leads to your brain? It stills as if savoring the moment, drinking in the sweet smell of your fear.
 
Have you then experienced a sudden loss, something feeding on your life source, a horrible absence of something important as you discover--that some Fae creatures feed on memories?
 
Have you?
 
Perhaps not. Let me rephrase the question.
 
Have you ever walked into a room and forgotten why you came in?