They heft his struggling form over the edge. The rope unwinds from his body as he falls, then comes up short, stealing the fight from him as he gasps.

The rope slowly lowers. Dark, sharp rocks sweep past his rotating body. He hears a clatter and a tinkle as something drops past him to the floor below. A harsh laugh follows a muttered comment above. A single knife will not keep this darkness at bay, nor help the hunger pangs clutching his insides, nor the deep, throbbing thirst beginning to call out from his tired muscles.

This mountain-deep maze cuts through the deeps and plays refuge to any number of forgotten creatures exiled for their crimes.

He regains enough strength to lift his legs to the side-walls, and proprs himself against his own back.

The rope slackens. A curse above him tells him they know. A few snowflakes gently drift past him, falling with sweet abandon.

The men above argue, their voices echoing down the long chamber...

Suddenly the rope slithers past him. He has a choice - jump now and catch up with the bottom of the rope - or jump later, to his death.

He jumps.