Jack rolled his service cart past the balcony overlooking the first floor atrium and through the double doors. Two hallways branched off at opposite, forty-five degree angles from the doorway, and each was pitch black. In fact, the entire building was largely dark, save for a few lights left on for maintenance, such as the one Jack stood under. Soft, ambient pop music was being piped in through crackly speakers, which Jack found slightly eery, despite the upbeat tunes.
After gazing down the dark hallways for a time, Jack started fiddling with his service cart, eager to get on with his affairs. The cart was a standard unit, outfit with several tools and a cleaning tote, a green plastic tray with a handle, rags, and three spray bottles.
As Jack started working, his attention was drawn to the approach of a dark figure from the left hallway. As it neared Jack's small pool of light, it was revealed to be a girl, medium height, brown hair. Her face was devoid of emotion, more plain and neutral than Jack thought imaginable from a person. Jack found it odd that this patron had continued to browse, despite the utter lack of illumination in most of the building.
"Hi," said Jack.
"Hello," said the plain girl softly.
"Ohp, here," said Jack with sudden realization, "let me grab - "
He went back through the double doors to a small shelf-table unit full of tape and hastily fished out two rolls that happened to be stuck together. He returned to the plain girl and offered her his find.
"I can have two?" she asked. Jack was finding her demeanor increasingly disturbing.
"Oh, yeah..." replied Jack uneasily. "You know, it's kinda dark in here." He turned to the switches on the wall. There were two sets of four on either side of the doorway. He flipped several of them and waited expectantly, but there was no change in the pitch-black hallways.
"Power's out," said one of the spray bottles in the cleaning tote.
"Oh shoot, that's right...um..." Jack was at a loss.
The plain girl stared at him for a time. "Can you stay up here, to read the comic?" she asked.
"Me? No, no, I'm going back downstairs." Jack started to back away from the girl.
"I'm gonna need you to stay up here and read the comic."
Jack chilled, and fear began to take root. He was unable to look away from the plain girl as he backed through the double doors and up against the balcony railing.
"No, no, I'll go back to the front."
"No, stay up there," the spray bottle said, its voice emanating from somewhere on the lower level. The spray bottle had abandoned him.
Jack split: though he was now floating, observing, he was still entwined with Piglet, who now occupied his spot on the dark, second-floor balcony.
"N-n-no, no! Bottle! W-where did you g-g-go?" said Piglet, terrified.
"Stay up," said the bottle from somewhere down below.
"No!" said Piglet as he climbed clumsily over the railing and dropped down the lower level. "I'm such a small animal, after all!"
By now even the maintenance lights had extinguished. A spray bottle nozzle lay on the floor, very dimly illuminated. Piglet's hysterical motions were only discernible by a bright point of white light, dancing and skittering around, avoiding some unseen foes. It wasn't long before Piglet shrieked in torment, and his singular light split into reds, purples, and oranges, his shrieks of pain into tiny howls of demonic lust and rage. The transformed lights continued to scurry around as a group in the dark, now seeking instead of fleeing.
One more to go. Then he would raise a tiny army of fingers and toes amputated from the village children.
