The pilgrim got to his feet and started moving tentatively down the hallway, keeping one hand on the wall to support himself. A bright yellow line was painted onto the left wall. A dozen yards beyond the entrance, the hallway descended into a set of stone steps. It was getting cold. Cold. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like. He pulled his duster close around him and walked into the thickening darkness.
The air tasted like he felt; dry and ancient. Small clouds of dust puffed up around his boots. He counted the steps and when he reached 30, he stood alone and afraid in almost total darkness.
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