The old book keeper ran through the grand halls of the palace, still in his nightgown. In one hand he held a candle, the other a book. He ran as fast as his legs would allow him.

Behind him, pass the great colomns of the royal hall, the sound of iron gates could be heard opening. A silhouette could be seen, making its way towards the old man. It was thin, and ran with long strides. Its arms stayed down at its sides. It was only a matter of time until it was upon the book keeper.

The old man fell onto his back, slamming into the ground and screamed out. He turned his head and looked at the dark figure.

"Demon! Spy! May God have mercy on your soul for this!" Cried out the old man, still clutching onto the book. The candle had fallen from his hand when he had fallen, and rolled onto one of the curtains of a nearby window. It was now catching fire.

The old man crawled backwards, his face horrified, as he kept eye contact with the black form. Before he could crawl any further, he slammed into one of the columns. He clutched onto the book with both arms. The entire curtain was now engulfed in flames. Fire and embers floated about in the dark hall.

The dark firgure stood in the shadows, not walking out into the light. Slowly, a deep, thunderous voice snarled from the silhouette.

"God has no jurisdiction over me. I am a God." Then the being slowly started to rise. He was no longer on the ground. The old man went pale. His hands went white, as he clutched onto the book with all his strengh. The dark form looked down at him. Slowly one of its arms started to extend. It grew out, worming its way down towards the old man. Snake like, the arm took hold of the old man. It lifted him off the ground, keeping him pinned to the column. The book keeper screamed in agony as his back grated against the sharp edges of the column. The old man reached into his pocket and pulled out a small knife, mean't for opening letters. He slashed out at the arm. It did nothing. The knife went up into flames as soon as it made contact with the dark being. The metal melted away, dripping onto the floor.

The dark form yelled out in laughter. "You fool, no man can kill me." Then the dark form came out into the light. The old man's eyes opened wide. Then his body went limp. The book fell from his arms, down onto the stone floor.

The King awoke, his castle alarm blaring. Soldiers were running about, getting into battle formations. Servents ran about in all directions, most of them screaming.

"General!" yelled out the king, as he placed his robes on and walked out into the great hall. In the hall soldiers now surrounded the room, spears pointed out. Most of the room was on fire now.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" demanded the king. The general looked to the king, then back to the center of the hall. He slowly lifted a finger and pointed. There, hanging from the ceiling was the book keeper. His limp body slowly rotating back and forth. But with a closer look, you would realize there was no rope keeping him up. He was suspened in the air, dead. There was no book to be found.