Sounds ... they echo all around in the darkness; their direction indiscernible in the pitch blackness. Slithering ... crawling ... the faint drip of water onto the stone floor below. It comes for nowhere, and everywhere at once.
The air is stagnant, and chill. So very cold, that it bites though the fabric of my clothes. I feel my way in the darkness, inch by inch, not knowing what I will come across next. The stone is rough, and I can feel the sharp edges cut into my legs and hands, as I crawl my way across the ground. The sounds of my breath echo, shallow and ragged. I pause to breathe in deeply, trying valiantly to remain calm.
Something brushes against my leg, and I jump. What is it? A spider? A snake? Or perhaps something worse ... I freeze, waiting ... too terrified to move.
