The Final Snap

Unchecked light betrays the stronghold. Atop the oak desk, a heavy green-glass banker's lamp cast an unwanted glare across the chamber. Dead illumination. I closed the distance and clamped my claws around the solid brass ball at the end of the pull-chain. Cold, interlocking beads of tempered alloy. I planted my boots firmly on the leather desk blotter and dragged downward with decisive force. A sharp mechanical snap cracked inside the brass socket. The bulb went dead instantly. Shadows flooded the room. Light eliminated. The night watch begins in disciplined silence.