here they were again. The footsteps, like slow heavy raindrops hitting an abandoned metal helmet. Were did they come from? Why were they here? No one else was in the house that night, and I was sure all the guests had left a few hours previously. It could, still, be one who had a bit too much to drink…

Yes, that was it. I'll just go downstairs and ask them politely to leave. Silly old fool, I almost had myself thinking of some skulking undead. Ha-ha-ha-a.

As I stepped onto the stairs and started walking down them, an almighty crash came from the room where the footsteps

 

had been heard. It was as if the gods themselves had awoken, and hit a metal object with bolts of lightning. I felt myself duck as the noise came, even though I was in no danger. Oh no. A drunk mage again. Give me strength.

I neared the door I thought the footsteps had come from. Whether the footsteps had actually come from there I have no idea, as they had stopped now. Odd. Huuuuwh. Boy, I was tired, but this needed to be done, and by the light, it would be. Couldn't leave a drunkard in the house, could I?

I entered the room and that's when I saw

 

it. The… the figure. Robed in black, and only a half-ring of hair round his head. His skin was as white as a sheet, and his face… There was a look of shear terror on his face. If our shapes were not dissimilar, I could have been looking into a mirror. It just stood there, staring at me. I didn't know what to do. For what seemed like hours, although I had little knowledge of time anymore, we just stood and stared at each other. The figure screamed a high-pitched yelp. This was it, I could not stay. I ran as fast as I could, passing every wall and cupboard. Fearing that thing's return, I slept. I was safe here, merged with the darkness, no one could see me. Yes, I was safe back in the land of slumber.