INVITATION
The stench of bat droppings and the heaviness of dark encroaches on the senses where the only louder sound is the terror of the killer silently approaching and the desperation to get beyond his deadly intent.
The need to move outstrips the fear of the crawling black backs that glint in the approaching torchlight as you search and grope for the hidden lock.
Something indents under your hand – Whirring and clicking and movement in stone, light beyond, a way opens, relief washes, need propels and movement happens.
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