The Devil You Don't Know (Superhero Black Hole, part 84)

"_JESUS CHRIST!_," screamed Zoe.

"That isn't my name," the albino said, with nary the slightest hint of sarcasm, or seemingly any other emotion.

"How the hell did you get here," I asked him.

"No, more importantly, _who_ the hell are you," Zoe added.

Still speaking in that flat, nigh-on robotic voice [no, he _wasn't_ a robot, before you offer your theories, dear Reader], the albino replied: "I followed you. And I have no name."

For a few moments, neither me, Zoe or the albino man spoke a word. Only the countryside's ambient noise filled our awkward silence.

The albino broke the near-silence. "If you two would not mind, it might be preferable to continue this conversation in your apartment."

Zoe shot me a quick look, as if to say: _What the frakking frak?_

"Uuuum...were we having a conversation," she asked him.

"We are about to." He held out his chalk-white hands. "If you would be so kind..."