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I began working weekly at my local bar about six months ago.

It's an old, cozy little pub.

Think carpeted floor, that old pub scent, little Irish trinkets everywhere, and a few Guinness

drinkers lining the bar every night.

There is an older clientele in the bar.

I get to control the music on my shift, and there is always a pleasant, friendly atmosphere.

It also pays very well, and I enjoy the banter with the locals and the odd tourists who might wander in from a nearby hotel.

Being such an old building, when you are closing up on your own at the end of a shift, a deep sense of unease tends to creep in.

What was a fun place to be with music and lively chatter swiftly became full of shadows and creepiness.

...