The grinning skull rotated itself 180 degrees, accompanied by the snapping and popping of bones.
“A construct am I, assembled in death. Speak the password at once, let your words have some heft.”
“I, uh, don’t know the password,” said Rags. “Do you know where I can find it?”
“No password you have, my instructions are clear. I must cut your head off, from all you hold dear.”
The skull emerged further into the pool of light, revealing skeletal arms and a rib cage. Rags backed up a step, alarmed, but his alarm grew a hundredfold when he saw another set of arms, and another ribcage emerged, and another, and another.
The gatekeeper or guardian or whatever it was…the skeleton had too many bones, and it was wending its way toward him like a terrifying wyrm of bleached ivory.
Excerpts From Nonexistent Books 