Death swept through the shelves of hourglasses, the clicking of his feet on the cobblestone surface echoed through the voluminous chamber. A large iron key clutched purposefully in his hand glinted in the half light before it slotted into the lock of the large oak door that lay at the end of the hallway. This room made Death uneasy, the hourglasses in here did not obey the rules, Death liked rules. His bony fingers reached to the back of a low shelf and pulled out an unusual hourglass, it's design was unfamiliar. Death's vacant eyes stared darkly at it, it was empty, with a puzzled sigh he placed it into the deep pocket of his evening cloak. He had dreamt about this particular hourglass, this hourglass was different and it's time, if that's the right phrase, was at hand.
