The challenge was clear: Face your fears!

Ghoulish fun was in the air through tempests big and small.

After powerful gusts and heavy rains bowed even the fiercest of souls in some parts of Luzon, the tribe at Concept Building could not help but reflect on life’s horrors and scares.

By tradition, the last Friday of October saw the DAILY TRIBUNE transformed, skulls and creepy crawlies hanging on cobwebs all over the place.

PATRICIA RamirezBut those were just props — fear was a monster that showed up in costumes so varied, the place was swarming with imagination.

From a coven of witches, to a bloody zombie, to masked individuals wearing the faces of another, the stories flowed like wine. “War.” “Cancer is my fear.” “Darkness scares me.” “Spiders!” “Boss.” Laughter simply nixed the fears away.

Yet nothing compared to Pandora’s Box from Hall of Famer Windsor Genova, and the winning “lunch box” of fears by Lor Bulacan.

A young colleague, fresh Katribu, touched a chord. And like the writer she is, Via Bianca Ramones composed her explanation:

“You may be wondering why my costume doesn’t scream horror like the others. But, true terror isn’t always visible. When I contemplated our theme, ‘What scares you the most?’ I realized that my deepest fear lies beyond the surface.

“It’s the darkness that lurks within, the shadows that haunt my mind. Depression, the silent suffocator, threatens to pull me back into its abyss. The fear of returning to that dark corner, where emotions overwhelm and hope fades.

“Look closely at my attire. The black beneath represents the emptiness, the void that mental illness can bring. Yet, the vibrant exterior symbolizes the masks we wear, hiding our pain behind a facade of happiness.

“Many suffer in silence, their bright smiles concealing the darkness within. I fear being consumed by that darkness again, unsure if I’ll escape.

“Let my costume serve as a reminder: true horror isn’t always visible. Let’s break the silence, support each other, and shine light into the shadows.”

So after “Kristine” howled and brought deluge to equal a month’s worth of rain in a day — over at Florida Street, a reckoning was taking place.