It is a long tale of approach. The volume turned up on the fear on the sharpest incline, raised tiny increments at a time. Also the onset and experience of all perceptions felt as a kind of fear. All the different emotions have their own specific onsets. And fear’s is “the creep”. The brain finds it great to notice difference. What a classy metaphor. When the sky cracks open there will be an instant of glee even though the weird rain has both the properties of acid and delicious syrup. The wet deliciousness is felt first, mmmmm, then the acid eats the skin, aaaaaaa. Fear is a crystalline structure of timing, of coincidence. Walking into a dark room could be warm, comforting, except the exact timing of the silences and whatever creaking persists is such that the moment unites with all the worst ideas. The qualities the room possesses lack of light just so, no sound save a distant throb from the street, the house settling uniquely, a sudden grey fluttering from a corner. All these combine in timing like a good joke to produce that oscillation of identity necessary for rich primal fright. Is it just a room? Or did you finally do it? Are you actually the first human to encounter the door to Hell? I knew you were special. Everyone always said you were weird, but it was just that you were Magic. Or if not magic, the story of your life has exciting narrative heft. Now starts a great journey. The first fragile seconds of the onset of creeping fear may be the start of a tale. The tale you are telling later.