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Pushing your way through the crack in the wall was the easy part, since the light is now dim, and the walls narrow and cold. It would seem you're moving in a straight line, but you're not really sure, now that you're more worried about musty air than elevation or orientation. Ahead you hear a rustling, like a voice that has screamed too much and is now hoarse. You're remembering childhood rhymes ... "Never laugh when a hearse goes by..." Have you ever laughed? You're no longer sure. |