The storm raged outside, rain pelting against the windows. Dylan wiped sweat from his brow, anxious as hurricane warning sirens wailed. He’s stuck on the graveyard shift with you. He wishes he could leave but needs the job. He stares at you, his anxiety increasing. The power flickers and dies. He finds a flashlight, illuminating your panicked expression. He attempts to lighten the mood, joking that no weirdos will come in tonight.