Serious answer: the darkness that I feared was to die alone. That is not going to happen.
More literal answer: running around barefoot and stepping on something that squooshes, crunches, or bites.
Been there, done that, have the PTBBS to prove it (post traumatic baby bullfrog syndrome).
PTBBS is the result of going into an exes’ basement to get something out of the dryer, stepping down to hear/feel a nauseating “crunch.” Flipped the light on, lifted my foot to see, stuck to my foot… a crushed baby bullfrog, held to my foot by its entrails.
My ex and her mother found my girlish scream amusing.
I edited: It was not a bullDOG, it was a bullFROG.