Trapped in the Pharmacy Storeroom Crypt

Trapped in the Pharmacy Storeroom Crypt

I was working a late shift at the local pharmacy where I used to work in college, but the back storeroom went on way further than it should have, opening into cold, vaulted brick arches like an old crypt beneath the aisles. I was desperately looking for a specific box of allergy medicine for a customer waiting out front, but the shelves kept holding heavy, rusted iron keys and small jars of black dirt instead of pills. My old high school biology teacher was standing at the end of the corridor, only he looked like some hollowed-out medieval monk and kept insisting in a flat voice that the curfew bell had already rung and the gate was locked. I started panicking because I couldn't find my car keys or phone in my vest pockets, just cold lead coins, and the strip lights overhead were buzzing and slowly dying one by one, leaving me in total dark.