As we drew closer, we began to climb, and though the darkness gave me nothing to see, I could feel the shape of it rising under my feet. Stairs. Definitely stairs, cut from something cold and hard that pulled the warmth out of every step.
The light we'd spotted from far off swelled the closer we climbed, and the bigger it grew, the higher the dread climbed in my chest.
We'd been chased for a while now, but the higher we went up those black, arduous stairs, the farther our pursuers fell behind, until their snarling thinned out into the dark below us. I let myself think:
'Ah, hell. At least I'll get to catch my breath after all this running.'
The next moment, I was heavily disappointed. Now I understood exactly why those bastards had refused to follow us any higher.
