The storm outside rages, showing no signs of letting up as the branches beside the window scrape and scratch at the glass, like an animal trying to get in. Rain pounds on the roof, like somebody was pouring buckets upon buckets on the roof.

Dave walks in, holding a candle to add to the collection that was strewn across the room.

“Found another candle but it fuckin’ stinks,” Dave said, putting the candle down onto the table, stumbling as he makes his way towards you.

“Fuck it’s dark as dick still,” he huffed.