"Always carry some spare batteries, kid. You don't want your lamp to go out. Not here.... not this deep."

Fear the dark. Fear the deep.

The soft chattering sounds shortly before the lights fail, and soon after… the cries begin. In the dark distance a miner will hear a keening noise, a shrill and empty call. He will hold a tiny candle from his pack aloft, leaving his burned out flashlight on the floor and shivering as the tunnel grows cold. Another call, from behind this time. Then another. Each little cry seems to come from closer… and closer… and then abruptly all is silent.

The darkness reaches out for him, slinking its way out of the shadows just behind the light, long horrible claws and tiny eyes glimmering from the flicker of his single source of light. Their cries begin again, all at once, all around, keening and shrilling and growing, louder and louder, until finally the candle is blown out, and with a final strangled scream the poor soul is taken, wisked away by the darkness...
...and the horrible Wraiths that inhabit it.

(To be moved to scraps shortly)