Lightning lit up the tall gothic windows, providing light to the room as the fireplace did. Thunder echoed in the distance, a grim reminder of a time when I had met a man. Now this wasn't any man, it was a very hated man, more so hated than the evil of the world. It was the reaper.

It came about on a day like this one. Thunder was rocking the earth, as lightning illuminated the sky. I was sitting back in my great armchair, settling down to the novel they call 'Frankenstein'. It was at that moment that a knocking came at my door. A crisp knock, rapped by a man of great importance to the many who value life. This sudden noise startled me, and I mistook it for a thunderclap, telling myself, "That was no more than the sound of Thor's anger," and I continued on in my book. To those who know the story of Frankenstein, I was just at the part when poor William was murdered, when I was startled by another knock. This time, I heard it loud and clear, the sound of my brass knocker on the door. Getting up from my armchair, I headed to the foyer, inquiring who could be here at this hour, for the last rays of sunlight had departed hours earlier. Reaching the door, I opened the speculatorium as to view my visitor before opening my door for him. I slid the slat aside, and looked into the dreary night, rain already beating down on my face.

"Who is it?" I asked into the cold and dark night. But no one responded. Startled, I looked around the landscape, for something that could have knocked, anything. Thoughts raced to my head. Was I going insane? Could it just be the thunder? But my eyes found the answer. A man, or so I thought it was, crouched near the cornerstone of my ebode. Large dark robes covered him, swathing his body in darkness. Large silver chains fell from his neck, leading down to the ground. A large, silver timepiece, he held in one hand. In the other was a scythe, the long, thin iron blade glinting in the flashes of lighting. The man's hood was pulled over his face, obscuring his face from view, but I could still make out small dark pupils in the flashes of lightning. The sight was enough to razzle me, but no man deserved to be out on a night like this. My door creaked open as I pushed on it. Stepping out into the downpour from the heavens, I called to the man.

"Sir! Come inside. For the night is young, more terrors shall be coming. Come inside my house, and at least let me offer you a drink and some bread." Lightning flashed again, illuminating the thin figure. He stood up, standing a good meter taller than myself. He was a man of great height. Everything was plunged into darkness until the lightning flashed again. I peered over to the man, looking for any sign of compliance. When the lightning flashed again, I saw him reach a long slender finger out, the black nail tapping the time piece. Everything was plunged into darkness again as the lightning faded, and when the next flash came, the man was gone.

I screeched and sprang backwards in surprise. Rain poured down, lightning flashed, and my doorstep was as empty as my brain. I stared before me, but the world might as well have been a blank slate for all I knew. My heart was pounding like the thunder. My palms were as wet as the raindrops spattering on my head.

Numbly, I stepped aside and I closed the door. I shivered and I climbed into my chair, wrapping myself in a thick blanket. I tried to think.

I never had believed the Reaper was a real entity.

Never did I expect to see him.

Or was it him? Perhaps it was a prankster from the village. But could a prankster vanish as quickly as that? And what did they hope to gain?

I ran to find my encyclopedias, thick and broad and gathering dust. What was humanity capable of? I selected a volume, returned to my chair, and sat down by the fire. I read about magic tricks and slights of hand. Was it all a prank? Perhaps ...

But then I looked up at my timepiece. I was sure an hour or two had passed. To my horror, the timepiece was stuck on the time that the Reaper had indicated. I tore out my pocket watch in a panic. It too, was fused to the same time. I heard ticking, but the hand of the watch did not move. I rushed to examine the other timepieces in my old abode. All of them were bolted to the exact same time ...

Dawn. Eight hours from now.

I sank into my chair, thinking of all the things I wanted to do with my life. More importantly, I thought about my daughter, my only relative, sleeping in a room upstairs. Even as I thought, I heard her coughing. My poor little Beatrice, afflicted with consumption ... what would become of her if the Reaper was actually ... the Reaper?

I slammed my hand on the arm of the chair. No. I had to get to the bottom of this. I put on my coat, though I didn't know where I was going, and then I heard a scream. I stiffened in terror and spun around. I was sure the cry had gone up from the servants' quarters.