...And he came upon a dead end, heart pounding and sweat dripping. Out of breath. Out of choices. Out of time. The only thing he remembered was sheer terror and the mental shock of running in total darkness. They were on his tail... if he didn't do something quickly, he would surely be ripped limb from limb in a grotesque display of ultraviolence. His hand leaned on the wall, and with a sudden motion, a block pushed in. Thoughts flooded his mind as the stone moved. A carving was etched into the block. What would it reveal? Was it the key to his salvation, or the instrument of his death? No one knows.