![]() Tucked under his other arm was an umbrella furled and tightly wound shut. Out of nowhere it appeared, a sack containing his magicks. Slowly, as if floating on air, he moved towards his quarry, his long fingered hands moving in intricate patterns as he wove his spell. It was one that he had been doing since the dawn of creation. He was a creature of myth and legends, but very real, solid and intent on his job. His body formed out of the shadows that were his home and haven. The darkness by the window moved and shifted as a form appeared out of nowhere. Inexorably the innocent girl moved closer and closer to her fate as her eyes drifted shut and her body relaxed. It would be the stuff born of nightmares and fairytales, twisted to suit only one being's purposes. Her fate was sealed that night, irrevocably and for all time. She has no idea what was to come – in fact, she never would. Its battered gold tooled leather bond covers were worn thin by constant use and the pages were dog eared in places and well thumbed as its owner impatiently skimmed from passage to passage, eyes devouring the familiar tales of romance, adventure and horror. Loosely held in her hands was her favourite book, filled with dreams and horrors that could both entertain and offer nightmares, only something a person with a vivid imagination could enjoy. The decoration was childish bordering on adulthood much like its occupant. The bedside light gave a warm glow to the bedroom, making it safe and comforting. ![]() The clock ticked the seconds away as the room's only occupant slowly nodded off to sleep. Happy feelings and thoughts, familiar and yet new with each return to the pages that soon would be twisted and changed into darker entertainments and gains for a being not of this world – an incubus of sorts. Each sentence read filling the young girl's mind with images and illusory diversions. The reader devoured the familiar words with an absorption born of love for the tales within the pages of the tome. There was a soft rustle of paper as the pages were turned with delicate fingers.
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