A few days have passed since my dispute with Jeff. The overwhelming fear of being stuck in this place has offered some motivation to progress up the never-ending wall of razor blades.

My skin has started to toughen against the walls abuse, my strength has increased, my body also has started to tolerate the insistent heat.

The circle of large spikes is now within a day’s reach, they are huge, protruding out of the side of the wall, like giant claws ready to catch any fallen prey into their grasp. At this level hundreds of limbs decorate the sharp crystal points of the walls face, some impaled on the points, others laid in the small grooves as if they had been torn off and thrown down the side. The flow of blood that covers the wall glistens black, I have learnt to avoid certain paths due the power of the current cascading down. Other souls that are not so quick to pick upon this, end up being swept down the face of the wall.

Determined to get out of this hell hole, I have not stopped nor rested since the beetles. I may be tired but at least my abs are like steel, I smile to myself.

After my lesson learnt with Jeff, it safe to say that this is not a place to make friends, I have avoided as many of the lidless people as I can, changing my direction out of their paths, pressing myself into the wall and cover myself in blood to remain out of sight.

A small flicker of a memory, a film, gave me that idea.

Continuing up I focus on nothing but my next handhold, reaching up, I grab a sharpened blade that stands out slightly more than the others. The spike seems to be wide enough for me to stand and balance on.

As I pull myself up, the cusp of the spike slices effortlessly through the skin on my stomach, like a hot knife through butter. Standing on top of the obsidian like blade, I rest one hand on the wall in front of me and take a look at my stomach.

“For fuck sake,” I curse at myself for not paying attention, the large slit is deep, fresh red blood trickles out of the opening and down my legs. Oddly enough the pain is not sharp, all I feel is a numb ache.

Deciding that this is the best point to rest, Holding an arm across my bloody wound, I lean back against the wall, my skin ignoring the sharp points that prick its surface, I lock my knees to hold my weight, sitting down on this spike would only end in more unnecessary damage. I take this time to gaze around the pit, looking out ahead of me I see small figures climbing up the wall like cockroaches. The constant scream from above me are now a normality to my ears. I glance upwards into the black mass that hovers between the circle of large, stone claws. Its shifting, swirling, like a shawl of fish; I strain my eyes to make out what it is, unfortunately it is too far away and too dark to define any features.

Lowering my gaze I search along the wall again to see if there is anything I can use as a main resting point.

Nothing…

Sighing in dismay at my lack of opportunities, I close my eyes and let my back slump further in to the sharp points, wedging my head between two nearest skewer points.

A noise disrupts my snooze, opening an eye I scan to see where it came from.

A women has decided to sit on the edge of my rock.

I stay still, not taking my eye off her, I’m in no fit state to fight, she’s covered in grime and blood, her mousy brown hair stuck to her neck and back. Her skin covered in bruises and cuts; bite marks cover her limbs, she is so skinny that you can count her ribs through her skin. Like all the others, her hazel eyes are coated in glass.

She sits and stares into the distance, creepy muttering escapes her mouth. I am not able to understand what she is saying. She begins rocking on the edge, with every movement the skin on her legs opens, she doesn’t seem to care. I question if my lack of pain on my stomach is the same for her? Am I becoming one of them? If so, how long until I change?

The thought sends shivers down my spine, concluding that the longer I am down here the quicker I will change. I take the risk at looking at my wound to see if I can continue climbing, in this short time it has started to knit together.

That’s a plus, I shrug, glad to know I can continue on my climb.

My movement has drawn the attention of the women, without hesitation she charges at me, slicing her feet on the obsidian blade beneath us.

“Oh just leave me alone!” I inform her frustratedly, knowing full well that she cannot or will not hear me.

She charges at me with full speed, without thinking I move out of the way slightly and push the back of her head in to the wall beside me, unfortunately for her, she face planted one of the skewers that I was resting my head against.

Frowning at the slack body hanging by its pierced head, I sigh, “that’s my resting spot ruined.”

Something interrupts my disappointment, loud deep rumbles emitting from the wall, the vibration of the sound shakes the perch I’m stood on, I grab the woman’s bloody hair for support.

investigating the pit to locate the origin of the sound, I notice something new has appeared, 6ft above my head.

A gaping hole has opened in the side of the wall. Seizing this opportunity, I quickly climb up to it.

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Easing myself up on to the lip of the hole, I notice that its surface is smooth and damp, I peer in, hoping that it may lead to somewhere, anywhere other than this fucking wall face.

Its difficult to make out the depth of the hole and what may lie waiting, all I can see is darkness, consuming everything it touches.

Looking back at my other option, to climb, I bite my lower lip and start to proceed in to the lingering gloom.

“It’s this or the wall,” I talk to myself, aiming to calm any anxiety that hits me.

I walk quickly forward occasionally looking over my shoulder to the entrance in the wall.

The deeper I go the darker it gets, eventually I become enveloped in shadow.

Blinded, I reach out my hands in hope to direct myself via touch. The only thing I can follow is the side of the tunnel.

Running my hands along the sides, they are covered in a thick, claggy fluid. The smell of damp rust settles in the air. Drips from the ceiling echoing throughout the tunnel.

I notice that I can no longer hear the screams from the pit, they had been a small comfort on my daily routine, now with their absence, I have a strange feeling of vulnerability.

Ignoring my gut feeling to run back to what I know, I grit my teeth and push forward.

A few hours pass, I cannot see anything. The tunnel seems endless but its better on my body, the smooth damp floor offers relief to the soles of my feet.

The damp air cools my skin, small shivers run through my body, making my skin alive with goose bumps.

The quietness of the tunnel would almost be deafening if it wasn’t for the occasional drip in the distance.

My hand covered in some slimy like substance, I continue to slither across the walls feeling for anything to give me answers.

I hit a patch of cold, freezing air. My hands feel two corners, the tunnel has split in to two. I tentatively put a foot forward feeling if the ground is still there.

The last thing I want to do is fall blindly down an unknown hole and end up at the beginning with Tiny, the man-eating lizard.

Confident that the ground doesn’t open in front of me, I step into the centre of the junction. I take a moment to let the cold air wrap around my body.

Realising that the air must come from somewhere, I let my skin locate the direction of the wind.

Its coming from my right, deciding that this is my best option, I turn to it and start to walk forward, sticking to my method of feeling my way.

The damp floor slowly builds, increasing in volume, transforming into a stream around my feet, feeling the flow of the fluid around my ankles, I realise that I’m on a slight incline.

I commence running up the incline hoping that an exit will appear.

After sometime, and out of breath, I note that the incline has discontinued. The floor becoming level again.

Sudden loud noises begin to tremor through the tunnel, the sound of rapid water, coming from above me.

“shit, shit, shit, shit.” I start sprinting hoping that I’m not blindly running straight into an oncoming river.

Ahead on I see a dim light, I sprint towards it, this is my only way, “please be safe, please be safe,” I beg to anyone that is listening.

The light become brighter, as I gain in distance.

I abruptly stop, “SHIT,” A large, spiked, metal trellis is illuminated by the blue light from behind it.

I have nowhere to go! Approaching the trellis, I can see that the path does not continue instead a large bottomless pit opens beyond the metal bars.

The sound of water becomes louder, closer. I look up, another black hole right above my head, water begins to shower down on me. using the small light provided I glance at my hands.

They are covered in fresh blood, I look at the floor, the cold liquid flowing around my ankles, also blood. Litres of it… no gallons.

This is not a tunnel, it’s a drain, a pipe. Panic sets in, “I’m going to die, I‘m going to start all over again, everything, all of it….enough, I’ve had enough.” I pant.

The shower of blood above increases in pressure, Its sheer volume compressing the air around me, the large groan and trembling of the surrounding walls informs me that there is no time for escape.

I look over to the metal bars, and with a hopeless prayer, I cling on to them for dear life.

The tunnel quakes with the pressure of the approaching red fluid, the hole above releases a torrent of blood, flooding the entire diameter of the pipe.

The force of the current, suffocates me, I’m crushed instantly in to the bars that I cling on to, I feel my spine crack, my ribs pop, my throat and lungs fill with blood, either my own or from the cascading waste.

My flesh begins to rip and tear as the fluid continues to crush me. The pressure on my brain is unbearable, ‘Just let me die, please, please’ I beg internally.

Eventually darkness consumes my consciousness, the pressure on my body and brain becomes lighter, ‘Thank you,’ my final thought as I release myself to the dark.