The candle flickered violently as it reached the last of the wick. With a violent hiss, the light that it cast out disappeared and the small kitchen was plunged into darkness.

There was only one person left in the vast cathedral, but the sudden black didn’t bother him. The monks had retired, and anyone wanting to pray for forgiveness for some late-night misdemeanor had staggered home.

Only Jacob sat in the third pew, turning the pages in a way that in any other place at any other time, would have made no sound at all but instead bounced back from the walls and into Jacob’s ears. He ran his fingers over the pages, registering every dome, and in his mind an exciting Steampunk chase raged, and Jacob was at the wheel, a gun in his left hand, shooting left and right.

How wrong they were, as the pages put a bullet in the driver. In him.

A pain ran through his chest as he heard a window shatter.

“You idiot! You shot at a church!” came a shout from inside, and now the sudden black bothered Jacob more than ever.