I can see the goal. Just there up ahead. It's a straight shot and there doesn't look to be anything in the way.
And that worries me.
It's that insurmountable fear of the dark we have as children. The knowledge that some thing lurks in the basement, under the stairs. Waiting to snatch us by our ankles as we try to sneak down the steps. Why does the light switch always have to be at the bottom? I'm ten years old again and scared that I won't turn eleven. Something's down there. Waiting. Something that eats small children whole. There won't even be a sensation of pain. Just the sudden awareness that I've become a snack for something very ugly. And then... nothing. I will simply cease to be. Maybe somone will find my bones in a thousand years, but that won't matter. They will have been eaten by then, too. The monster in the darkness. He's just sitting there. Hungry. Waiting for me to step just a little too close. I'm as good as dead. I just don't know it yet. And yet, I'm so close...
This panic attack brought to you by Fear Of The UnknownTM, scaring the living daylights out of people since the dawn of time.