TWENTY-TWO
HANNAH
The darkness feels oppressive.Colder than the upper levels somehow, even without those icy drafts.
Maybe it’s my fear of what I’ll discover here. Or maybe everything else is finally catching up with me. My feet feel increasingly heavy with each descending step.
So many floors above. How many levels does this place burrow into the earth?
Dear God, why did the builders dig so deep? What did they need to hide down here?
I’m trembling now, the fire consuming my makeshift torch, flames licking dangerously close to the fur protecting my hand.
I’ll have to discard it soon.
How much further down does this go?
It’s eerily quiet. No screams echoing from below.
I wish I could pretend I’d never heard those sounds. Never seen the blood staining his chest.
But as the fire fully engulfs my wooden torch, I finally see the bottom level.
I don’t slow my pace. Now that I’m here, there’s no retreating. Even though I could turn around right now.
Throw the damn stick away and get back upstairs where it’s safe.
I ignore my survival instincts.
But that persistent voice in my head continues.Why do you need to know anyway?He’s gone. You could flee toward that distant light right now!
I grit my teeth. I don’t have sufficient stamina to make that journey yet. I need information first.
Finally, I reach the bottom—a cramped square landing barely large enough for the stairwell to terminate.
The accumulated grime on the floor immediately coats my bare feet in filth.
But that’s not what captures my attention.
No, it’s the massive iron door secured by three heavy crossbars that draws my focus, along with the grimy, blood-stained bullwhip coiled on a hook beside it.
My heart skips as I freeze in place.
At least until the flames finally leap to the protective hide and dance even higher. I yelp and fling the burning torch toward the corner of the landing.
For a moment, I’m terrified the dirt will extinguish it.
But enough wood remains to sustain the flame. The fire has singed the exterior of the fur, burning with an acrid, nauseating smell.
Well, here we are.
Am I actually going to investigate what’s behind this door or not?
I examine the three heavy iron bars that serve as the only barriers. Each has a crude handle extending outward.
Might as well attempt it. I’ve come this far.
I position both hands on the long handle protruding from the first crossbar and push with everything I have.
