The stairwell and concrete stairs were endless. From the outside, the structure seemed to go on for miles. However, from the inside, it seemed with no horizon. I couldn’t see the bottom or where the pinnacle narrowed.

There were no intermediate levels: concrete, stairs, emergency signs pointing to hell, and white writing on the walls were the complete landscape.

The steps were marble, with a checkerboard pattern. Meanwhile, the concrete was crisscrossed by red and black carpet grooves. I couldn’t understand it, and after an initial surprise, I stopped paying attention.

I rarely came across an upside-down window with a pointed arch facing downward. Outside was the desert, the river of sand, and the eternal twilight.

I finally reached a door. I pushed the panic bar and found myself in a corridor crossed by pipes. Drafts and the gas smell filled the space while the pipes creaked and groaned.

A grate separated them, and writings in the language of the afterlife prevented me from understanding. The signs, however, looked like warning signs.

The corridor led to a white service door. A glass window allowed a view of the empty room, equipped with countless monitors that overlooked the stairway.

I could not tell if they were multiple shots of the same point or if they pointed to different points of the structure.

In any case, I was uncomfortable. The fact that there was a surveillance mechanism without a watchman troubled me.

I was humiliated by toys.

The thought continued to haunt me. Centuries of power, knowledge, and conquests dispersed in a single battle. And here I was, weak and limited to trying to escape.

With nothing else, I returned to the staircase and continued down. Now I could spot the cameras.

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They were placed far away, white dots that hooked into the corners. I watched them, and they watched me, and I felt my heart pound.

I was sure Meerarere knew.

I couldn’t explain it, but that place didn’t need any explanation.

She had condemned me to hell, so probably that’s where she was waiting for me.

A roar echoed through the stairwell. I couldn’t tell where it came from because of the echo. A boiler could have exploded in the service corridor, or something else could have happened further down.

A ticking sound, however, emerged from the fading echo.

It was the ticking of little paws climbing up and scratching the concrete. The swarming of a swarm of rats, moving wildly, aggressively.

But that couldn’t be the case. I was letting myself be influenced.

I continued my descent using the shadow as a vanguard. In case of obstacles or dangerous entities, I could intercept them. This reassured me, but I was aware that it could not be a solution to the problem.

The first to arrive was from behind. It rained from the upper floors.

It isn't a rat or an animal at all. It was a ball of yarn, bristling with needles.

It missed me and kept rolling, bouncing from step to step and unraveling the skein. The needles scraped the ground and then flailed like stiff lizards, unable to rewind the thread.

The more rain came down, the more it rolled down the stairs. Making matters worse were the dressmaking scissors tangled in some balls of yarn.

I ran down, trying to dodge what I could.

I was an easy target, but I knew. If I stopped, it would be much worse.

That is until I saw the creature lurking, ramping the steps in the opposite direction. I heard it roar several flights of stairs ago and noticed its smoke.

A toy dragon woven with a crystal ball in its chest rages against steps and wall. It had no arms but wings like a pterodactyl. Its back was bristling with bones, and its underside was pure smoke.

It moved its mouth and wings mechanically with a distorted music box melody in the background.

I tried to stop it with my shadow, but it had no effect.

Remembering the encounter with the previous monster, I was crushed between the rain of yarn and the coming of that toy. I had no choice but to trust in the immortality of the dead.

Without thinking, it threw me into the void.

The creature leaned out when it saw me fall but did not follow me. The balls of yarn rained and hurt. However, the further I moved away, the more they lost precision.

Finally, silence returned, and at times, from the windows, I could see the peaceful outside.

I was safe.