Weep, weep, weep. Tired footsteps feebly cry out, echoing around the resounding emptiness. Moving through this labyrinth, I am scared, not of the vast abyss of darkness, which has been my eternal womb, but of the chance that I might eventually escape this tomb. I often think about my life – as I bathe in shadow and soak in absence. Perhaps it is better not to see, not to see that face. Doomed to exist in solitude– I stride confidently through this subterranean temple and bask in the memory of my people. My torch penetrates the cracks in the cobbled stone, coursing through the veins of this temple. Behind me, a spool of string unravels, my umbilical cord tethering me to the familiar, and in front of me, I protect myself, armed with but a dagger. The resplendent flickering of the torchlight refracts in the edges of the blade, spiralling out– forever unravelling this maze, untangling my mind. What plants grow in darkness? What plant shrivels in the daylight? Am I free to wander this confinement, or shall these cursed vines ensnare my mind and my body? Emptiness sets in blanketing the darkness. This calm dread fills the heavy air as I feel twinned to some unknown– into the chasm. This eternal, unflinching flame guides the tip of my blade as the weight of the stars’ glare pushes me forwards. Deeper, deeper, my marching is incessant as the screech of metal unsheathing pierces the void. Torchlight suddenly becomes engulfed in swirling shadow and– faraway breath. The darkness fuses with a golden streak as my sanctuary is invaded by an unfamiliar, earthy scent. Now I can only feel– he is kneeling on the floor, bestial legs crushed against the chilled cobble. This sight fills me with a sensation of– fear, hatred.