The rock beneath us, a frightened lamb, trembles to no end it seems! It’s darker in here than a demons eyes. But who’s to say we’re in anywhere? The air flows fast like that of a storm, but yet the air is stale. I inhale a tender breath but taste no oxygen, so am left to retch out the smoke that has invaded me. Through the nose, Gwen. Breathe through your nose. I see the baron land stretches for miles, all the way to this hell’s stout horizon. If not for the pebbles dancing around my toes or the stones knocking around inside my head I wouldn’t have guessed that the ground beneath us is shaking with a vengeance. I stumble blindly grasping for any other human, and I accidently inhale another sickening breath of air; without warning, my knees slam into the ground, the pebbles, once merrily bouncing at my feet now  digging into my skin maliciously. The rest of my body buckles, I can only try to hold onto the ground. Pray tell me what this place is, if we know, we can fight it off. No matter how stale the air.
A staccato crack cuts through the roar of rumbling stones, my eyes snap open. Something solid and heavy has honed in on a target, directly between my shoulder blades. I roll to my left just in time to be deafened by a crash of exploding rock. The broken, jagged rocks fling themselves through skin and clothing, unperturbed by the defenses of men. An urgent hand grips my arm, and I shriek with freight and pain.
“Gwen, MOVE! They’re falling!” A voice bellows, his dirt smudged nose not an inch from my own.
I look up so fast that my neck cries out unheard, from pain unimportant. Sharp, dark stones extend like the teeth of Death himself. And the shaking of our foundation permitted the teeth to cut loose their stony bonds of their own free will. The stalactites rain from the sky at random times, sizes, and speeds. Who could possibly say where the next would make it’s mark in the earth, or in us.
The strong arm was dragging me away. Pearson’s arm, Pearson’s here and okay.
“Pearson! Where are the others!?” I asked it so loud that the question scratched in my throat and I could still barely hear myself.
“I don’t know.” His voice was clear but scared. Another tooth broke and slammed beside us, to our right. I shouted and Pearson yanked me behind him; just as another rock smashed down on our other side. Daggers splintered through my coat, but Pearson as already pulling me away, running in a direction uncharted. But the stalactites were the sky, didn’t he see it was pointless to run.
“Pearson!” He didn’t hear me. “PEARSON! Stop!”
“Run!” was his only response, along with a minute glance back at me. All around us the ground was breaking and creaking and crumbling with each drop of the ancient sculptures.
“No! Don’t you see, we’re running to no place!” He kept charging on.
“They killed the others, Gwen, I lied! So for f***’s sake keep running!” I didn’t hear that. Nope. I’ll figure out what he really just said later.
“Listen, if we go to a spot where one’s already fallen, we may not be hit there! We can wait it out!” He hesitated for a moment, slowing the pounding of his feet on the stone. One of his shoes is missing. He looked at me. And then he was gone. He hesitated because of me. And he’s gone.
It was not a pretty ending. His handsome face was made unbecoming by the tint of fear. Blood leaked from the sweaty nose that had, on so many occasions, tickled my neck as he whispered into my ear. The jaw of our relentless foe snapped down. The sound of Pearson’s bones snapping like twigs was louder than the madness of rocks crashing and shaking. It was louder than a mother’s grief for her fallen child. It was louder than the screams that ring from Hell. Perhaps, this place has been Hell all along. The shaft of stone flew straight through Pearson, from head to toe. It forced itself through his skin and through his bones. Unnatural. The rocks devoured him. It was not a pretty ending at all.
And then there was white. And a sudden silence. The dream was finally through.
Thank God.