Tim was alone on the night shift…he aimlessly meandered through the halls, ensuring every door was locked. He wandered around on each floor, occasionally altering the order to ease the boredom that was mounting in his fatigued mind. There was nothing that was going to change, and there was nothing to guard anyway.
He was walking on the thirteenth floor (for the umpteenth time) when the lights flickered and died, the darkness all-consuming the consternated security guard. Tim quickly recovered, quietly stating to himself that it was only a brief power failure, and the generators would soon kick in and again provide illumination to the dark hallway. So standing against the wall, Tim waited. And waited.
Then it started. It was at first hardly noticeable, as if it derived from the unconscious, but soon the dark menacing sound of laughter seemed to emanate from the walls themselves, surrounding Timmy in a cacophonous uproar from hell. In fear, Timmy groped for his flashlight, his only weapon, and the one thing that surely would end this nightmare.