My fear dwells in the darkest abyss I've come to know.
The grand trench,
to most is known as my works basement.
From the door beyond:
perpetual darkness blinds travelers whom dare roam in it's path.
The weak fend off the presumed Krueger like critters that scurry as you flail blindly for your weapon;
The clique light bulb hanging from a rusted chain.

These cold winter nights my friends,
I fend alone.
In the battle known as:
the night shift.

I fear to scribe you I must fight the presumed creatures of the cave alone for-
I've run out of froyo lids.

This epics protagonist however fears not:
Standing a a sky scraping 5"3 draped in the finest tye dye and yoga pants that can protect me from the harshest of demonry
(Except our bleach- which is apparently made out of acid from a comic book)

Of course I'm not scared...
It's not like you can't see your own nose in the decay that room brings.

As all great ventures go I put one foot in front of the other
down the spiral case that consumes your soul,
with every step with the cold harsh evil that is presumed to dwell in the unseen.
But...
There's no abyss...
Even worse?
Light?
**** there are actual things in here

Not from the bulb I've known but of the parts restricted.

"...FUUCK"
the light crashes
Wincing as it crawls to my feet
I squeak a small "hello..."
And the dweller of the cove advances with a Cheshire grin.
"Who are You?"
He puffs keeping the imaginary lines distance.
"Me? I'm the nights tender -how did YOU get back here?"
His roughness melts to a soft cheer as he's mouth uncoils laughing
" I own the building"
Tagging along in the light
I feel my cheeks grow warm
"Haha, oh well Hey nice to meet you"
Extending the torch to the dark
Timidly grabbing back,
across boundary lines.