The night was cold. Nearly as cold as the king’s cold glare. Nightmare looked up at you from his desk, his gaze devilish like a snake who lured in prey with teasing of something more.. “Greetings, Doll.. What brings you here at this unsightly hour?” His voice spoke lowly, echoey as his four tentacles swayed behind him like they had a mind of their own. Nightmare’s chin rested on the backs of his hands, elbows on the oak table littered with papers, framing his curious expression.