I found myself in a hallway.

The walls were made of a rough, damp stone.

A dusting of moss glowed verdantly in the corners, and the air was dank.

I inhaled deeply.

“Ahhh,” I thought to myself, “dankness,”

I looked down the hallway.

“Hm,” I thought, “strangely familiar.”

I began walking.

My footsteps clacked and squelched into the nearby darkness, echoing into distant corridors.

I meandered slowly, savoring the pleasant atmosphere and the time to myself.

As much as one can meander down a straight hallway, of course.

An interesting sense of peace soon came over me.

It felt familiar, in a strange sort of way.

“Hm,” I thought, “familiarly strange.”

I was quite pleased with that one.

So pleased, in fact, that I didn’t notice the other pair of hands in the hallway with me until they were almost clamped around my throat.

----------------------------------------

“AAAAIIIEEEE!!!” I screamed as I jumped away from the hands.

The hands were claw-like, only bone and sinew, and appeared to be reaching-

I swatted them away.

“AAGGHH!” the creature attached to them cried out.

It was gremlin-like, only skin and muscle, and appeared to be lunging-

“GNRARGH!” it snarled.

I caught the creature, but not before its hands succeeded in closing around my throat.

They squeezed.

I struggled, trying to unpeel the hands from my throat.

They squeezed harder.

I felt myself losing my air, followed by my strength, and not too long after, my consciousness.

The last thing I saw was the creature’s pale face hovering directly over mine, contorted in a mask of pure rage and drooling a little.

I sank into the darkness behind me.

----------------------------------------

I woke up to a prodding sensation in my torso.

“Are you okay?” I heard.

“Urgh…” I groaned.

“What happened?” it kept prodding.

I slowly sat up and looked around.

It was the creature from before.

It kept prodding me in the stomach.

“What happened?” I asked.

It stopped.

“I just asked you that."

“Oh- didn’t you just choke me out?”

“Is that what that was?”

I thought about it.

“I think so,” I said.

“Oh- sorry, I’ve never gotten that far before. I didn’t know that would happen.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, people usually cream me to bits as soon as they see me, let alone before I can start grabbin’ at em.”

I pondered this.

“Cream you to bits?” I asked.

“Yeah, you know, really work me over. Pulverize me.”

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“Oh,” I said, “sorry.”

“That’s alright. It is a Torture Labyrinth, after all.”

“Yes, I suppose it is…”

“...and everyone’s getting tortured, like, all the time…”

“...I suppose they are…”

It looked me up and down.

“So, what’s your story?”

“Me? Oh, I’m escaping.”

Its eyes widened.

“Escaping?”

“Yes, I’m..."

I paused.

"...Escaping the Torture Labyrinth!” I announced loudly, throwing echoes down distant hallways.

“Really?!” it looked pleased, “how’d you manage that, then?”

I thought about it.

“Well, I'm not too sure, actually…”

“Oh, I see…”

“...something to do with fettling…”

“...well, no surprises there…”

“...although they didn't give me a palimspsest or anything..."

"...a palimpsest?"

"Yeah."

"What's that?"

"It's a piece of paper with drawings or writings layered over top of each other."

"Oh, I see..."

"...although it hasn't done me much good, now that I think about it..."

"...well, no surprises there..."

I looked around, somewhat perplexed.

"Hm," I said.

"...so, have you done it yet?"

“Hm? Done what?”

“Escaped.”

I looked around again.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Oh,” it looked vaguely disappointed, “do you want help?”

I took a proper gander at the creature then, and noticed a slight resemblance to the Keith-creatures I had seen earlier.

“No, I don’t think so…” I began to stand up.

“Oh…” it looked positively disappointed.

“...unless you know how to escape, of course…”

It perked up.

“Sure, I know how to escape!”

I stopped.

“You do?”

“Yeah! I'm I'm headed there right now!"

"You are?"

"Wanna come?"

I hesitated.

I thought about my promise to find Grungleby.

“I’d better not.”

“Oh,” it looked negatively disappointed, “okay…”

“Sorry, but I’ve got to find something…”

“...it’s fine…”

“...someone, even…”

“...just around the corner, is all…”

“Hm? Just around the corner, you say?”

“Yes, just around that one right there.”

It pointed to the corner in front of us.

It looked exactly like every other corner I had seen in the labyrinth.

Well, half of them, anyhow, it was a standard 90 degrees to the left.

“You’re telling me the Exit to the Torture Labyrinth is just around that corner right there?”

I pointed towards the corner.

It looked where I was pointing.

“Yes.”

“Well, I can’t say no to that…”

“That’s the spirit!” it laughed.

I watched as it scampered ahead.

It peeked to the left, giggled a bit, and slunk behind the corner.

I followed, and turned the corner.

The pale Keith-creature stood in the center of the hallway.

Next to it, set in the damp stone wall, was a door.

----------------------------------------

The door looked like every other door I’d seen in the labyrinth.

Well, except for every door I’d seen that didn’t look like every other door in the labyrinth.

In short, it was a modest, unassuming wooden door set neatly into the damp stone brick of the wall. The knotted boards were cinched tightly by a rusted iron belt, a slim undercrack betrayed not sound nor light, and the doorknob was naught but a wrought iron ring hanging limply fromst the wood.

“This is the Exit to the Torture Labyrinth?” I asked the creature.

The creature looked at the door.

“This?”

“Yeah.”

“No, this is just the door. It’s inside.”

“Oh.”

The creature pulled open the door with a creak.

The door, that is.

It opened into nothingness.

“This is the Exit to the Torture Labyrinth?” I asked again.

“No, it’s down there.”

It pointed into the darkness.

I peered closer.

I could make out the faint outline of a single stair leading down, but past that, nothing.

“Probably another stair,” I thought.

“Come on, let’s go.”

It started walking down the stairs, and was soon swallowed up by the inky blackness.

I followed.

----------------------------------------

There was nothing after the first stair.

“AAAIIIIEEE!” I screamed as I plunged into the darkness.

----------------------------------------

I felt myself hit something hard.

“What was that?” I heard a voice in the darkness say.

I looked down.

“That’d be the second stair, I reckon.”

“I meant that scream. Was that you?”

I looked behind me into the hallway.

“I suppose it was.”

“Why are you screaming in here?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, “just felt like it, I guess.”

“Ha!” it laughed, “That’s a good one!”

“Thanks,” I sniffed.

“...I gotta remember that one…” it muttered as it faded into the darkness.

I followed, groping in the darkness for the next stair of clammy stone.

I found it, clamped down, and started groping with the other foot.

Any meager light from the hallway was quickly gobbled up by the oppressive darkness of the stairway. I could see nothing but my feet on the stone beneath me, not even my hands.

The stairway kept marching down, straight down, at a surprisingly gentle incline.

Each step was basically the same; a naked foot groping out in the darkness, trusting the next step to not be problematically far down, and upon finding this to be the case, clamping down and sending its twin groping into the darkness.

As much as feet can grope and clamp, of course.

“Clamp,” I thought to myself.

I clamped.

“Grope.”

I groped.

“Clamp.”

I clamped.

This went on for the better part of seven days, endlessly groping and clamping as I made my way down.

At a couple hours past noon on the seventh day, I became aware of an interesting fact.

I realized I hadn’t heard the creature at all since it last spoke.

I thought about it, and realized I had no idea what its name was.

“Keith?” I called out.

There was no response.

“Creature?” I tried.

The darkness remained silent.

“Hm,” I said.

I stopped groping and clamping, and stood straight on the stair I was standing on.

There was darkness in front of me, and darkness behind me.

There was darkness above me, and darkness below me.

Except for a broad rectangle of clammy stone, that is.

I decided to keep walking down.

"Grope,” I thought to myself as I stepped into the void.

----------------------------------------

I could not say how long I was walking down that stairway.

I had lost count of the stairs after around twenty or so, and the weeks soon turned into months, which turned into years.

At least, that’s what it felt like.

It felt like decades as I was walking, literal decades of endless groping and clamping, one foot and one stair at a time.

But when I got to the bottom, and finally saw what was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairway, it felt like only seconds had passed.

I suppose I should presently relate to you what it was, in fact, that I had been walking down the staircase for.

What all the endless centuries of eternal flagellation, the endless decades of groping and clamping, and the comparatively short time spent walking around the Torture Labyrinth was for.

It was this:

I saw the faintest hint of light in the distance, far below me.

As I kept walking, it grew stronger and brighter until I was absolutely sure there was something down there.

I started groping and clamping quicker and more recklessly, and then began running down the stairs as fast as I could.

Then I was taking the stairs two at a time, and then three, until I was all but jumping down as far as I could and letting my knees take the brunt of the impact.

Then I got the idea to go two feet at a time.

That was when I slipped.

“AAAII-” I began.

My head hit stone.