I began to sense that I was coming out of the dream state at last, a dizzy feeling playing around my head as though enjoying a frolic in the meadow in springtime. I was cold, and sore in the legs, arms, and all up and down my back. As I started to regain feeling, I began to sense the dank, leaden air around me, heavy with moisture and feeling as if nothing living had breathed it in a great many years. I could tell I was laying on a floor, and it felt like stone. Yes; cold, wet stone. Under my right hand I sensed the presence of a small bit of moss.  

After some time I finally had the will to open my eyes. It was dark, but my eyes surprisingly had no trouble adapting. How long had I been laying here? I had no memory of any events leading up to this; the last thing I remembered was laying down in my bed, in the boarding house behind the market. How had I arrived here? And by whose will?

I was in a chamber, probably a size of fourty feet square; the ceiling above was domed. Not another object shared the chamber with me, save a few more spots of the moss I felt under my right hand. All of the chamber was rusticated stone with no ornament or detailing, with the exception being the doorway directly opposite me. No other doors or windows could be seen – there was only this doorway, which I estimated to be fifteen feet tall set into an even taller gothic arch. It featured two wooden doors of impressive mass, with simple iron handles.

At some length I decided that my fortunes would never be improved by simply laying on the floor, bemoaning the pain in my body and contemplating that doorway. I worked my way to my feet, unsteadily but determinedly. My clothes…my word, what had gone on? My clothes were soiled with dirt and covered in blood stains – whether they were mine or a foe’s, I could not be sure.

A growing sense of unease and a desire to find another soul to seek help from led me to propel myself towards the doorway. I wanted to get out, to begin piecing together the events that brought me to this place, to look upon Anna again and feel the touch of her hand on mine. My body grudgingly cooperated, and I half-ran, half-staggered my way forward until my hands touched upon the iron handles of the doors. They were cold, as the river in the throes of winter. The chamber behind me was not especially small, but I felt as though it was contracting on me, as though it no longer wanted me for a guest. A queasy sense of claustrophobia and dread seeped into me as I pulled with all the strength I could summon. The doors slowly, with an agonizing groan, came open.

I looked out, and saw…nothing.