The staircase seemed to wind down into the bowels of the earth, leading them to some ancient, forgotten hell. Every step echoed through the confined space, bouncing off the damp, moss-covered walls. The air grew colder and heavier with each step, with a faint metallic tang clinging to their senses.
Jack glanced over his shoulder at Alisha, her staff clutched tight in her hands, its glow pulsing. Her face was stoic, but the flicker in her eyes, the doubt, mirrored the turmoil swirling in his stomach.
"Do you feel that?" she whispered, her voice cutting through the stifling silence.
Jack nodded, his voice low.
"Yeah. It feels. wrong."
The torches along the walls sputtered, casting erratic, dancing shadows that seemed to move of their own accord