~Excerpt from a moderately wealthy old man's journal.~
Here i sit, Writing under the candle light, An odd experience I had the previous night.
As I sit here writing, It seems as though my memory of the event is fading from my mind, As if it does not wish to be recalled.
It was well past midnight when I was abruptly awoken by a sharp knocking at the front door.
At first I had assumed it was simply the wind, But a few moments later I was shocked to hear it yet again, Even sharper than before. I got up from my bed and left the room. As i walked the familiar halls, I heard the knocking yet again, Less urgent, But sharper still.
As I neared the front door, I thought something that I had not before. Who was on the other side?
That thought sent a chill down my spine. I remembered that the only people who stay out in the night are murderers and thieves. Why had I thought it a good idea to come down to answer the door? It was at that moment that I heard the the knocking once more, This time with such force that I am surprised the door did not fly off of its frame.
Finally my curiosity had overcome me, I had to know what was knocking at that door. I mustered up the courage to undo the locks and peek outside.
The moon was new, And the wind was high. The air chilled me to the bone as I stepped out.
I called out into the darkness.
There was no reply.
Maybe it was the wind after all.
I stepped back inside and redid the locks on the door.
As I walked back through the house, I couldn't shake this feeling of dread. Perhaps i am just being a foolish old man, I thought.
I walked back into my room to discover a man dressed in black standing there in the centre.
"Who are you?"
I asked the man in a noticably frightened tone.
The man did not respond.
"Why are you here?"
I asked the man, This time eliciting a response.
"It is time for you to rest."
The man responded.
It was at this point that I noticed that there were now two beds in my room, One was my normal bed, The other was fit for a king. Highly decorated with fine materials.
I looked to the man to ask what sort of magic this was, But to my surprise he had vanished.
Aprehensive to the new bed located in my room, I lied down in my own bed.
The next thing I knew, I awoke just like any other day, Not remembering anything that had happened the previous night.
It was only once I had gone to lie down that I remembered these events and wished to record them before they are gone forever.
Take this as you will, Be it the truth, Or the ramblings of an old man.
Perhaps there is more to this world than we will ever know...