The spirit stares at Noob. It sits on hands and feet that are also hands, and it laughs and laughs. Laughs at him. Mocks him, without words. With knowing, incessant giggling. It doesn't stop until Noob comes after it...but as soon as Noob has it...it has him.

Everything is quiet and dark. No, not dark. It's black. Blackness. It's all a shadow, but not a shadow he can control. It seeps into him through his eyes, his nose, his mouth, his ears, through every single pore. Through the space between his fingernails. Through the follicles of every hair. And then it splits, and he is nothing.

Nothing but a cold lantern.