The tunnel stretched forever.
At least, that's what it felt like. In reality, we'd probably been walking for twenty minutes, maybe thirty. Time got weird down here. The knife's silver glow barely pushed back the darkness, and every step echoed in ways that made my skin crawl.
The faces in the walls followed us. Not just with their eyes—though yeah, that was creepy enough—but with their entire bodies, sliding through the glass like swimmers keeping pace underwater. Some pressed their hands against the barrier, fingers splayed wide. Others opened their mouths in those silent screams.
One looked like he was laughing.
"Don't look at them," I said.
"I'm trying not to."
"Try harder."
Cel's hand tightened around mine. Her fingers were ice cold, like holding hands with winter itself. Under normal circumstances, I would've made a joke about it. These were not normal circumstances.
