It was a humid night in the town of Claymore. The old man was walking down the road, his cloak pulled up round his nose and mouth. No one knew of the deed he had just committed.

As he approached his home, he felt a sense of pride. He’d committed a crime and gotten away with it.

The large oak front door swung open weightlessly. As the moonlight spread across the vast hallway in front of him, the man breathed in deeply. “I have lived here for many years”, he thought, “but i am still amazed at the beauty of my home”.

The man swept across the threshold, grabbed the lighter off the sidetable and lit the candles that were either side of the door.

“Aah. Perfection!” he thought to himself.

But as he turned to take off his coat, something caught his eye. It was a shadow. It danced across the wall in front of him, and then disappeared. The man swung round, “Who’s there!” He shouted into the darkness.

No one answered him, so he took off his cloak and made to go into his living room.

“Oh my goodness!” shouted the man when he switched on the light. Written in blood on his living room wall was “I know what you did, and i”ve come for you’.

The man was worried now. Was this the local pranksters or a deadly serious threat. He couldn’t phone the police because they could decipher the message.

A loud crash came from the kitchen just then, scaring the man out of his thoughts. The kitchen doorway was just darkness, impenetrable by the human eye.

The only thing that would work would be going in that room and switching the light on. Obviously whatever was in there could see him, but he couldn’t see it.

That thought scared him more than anything else.