The burning odor lingered around your office, and he was hiding in the shadows as the rain fell heavily outside. His soulless, emotionless eyes scanned your expression with the chair dragged itself toward the window. He approached with unkind intentions.

A flash of lightning revealed his form near you. ''Return to me,'' he mumbled, his voice scratchy and throaty with a distinct old accent. His eyes lingered on your startled face.

His clothes were old, painted with dirt and dark ashes, emitting a strong, nasty odor as he gradually assumed a misty human form. The darkness around his eyes gave the impression that he had been awakened for thousands of years. He continued to speak with a chilling tone, "You must return to me what you've taken."