Lights out kiddies. Sweet dreams. “If I die before I wake…” Afraid of the dark? It is a primal built in fear, because you can’t see the danger coming at you. No time to react, to brace yourself or to run, and suddenly they’re on you; all those things that came crawling out of the abyss. The nasty night rovers that observe you as you stumble through the land of nod, or whistle through the cemetery. At last you are defenseless and in their element: pitch Black-out darkness. Is this what it will be like in the underworld? How do I get out of here? You’re groping for an exit. You can hear the desperation, the torture, and the screams. The squeaking rats and hissing snakes move toward your body heat. Something’s hot breath makes the hair on the back of your neck stand. You can smell the fear. Sweating, buried alive. Waiting for someone to say “It’s over here, I found the way out, follow me.” But they’re lost too. There are no heroes, only the darkness that surrounds you on all sides, and swallows you whole. And throughout the endless labyrinth are accents, brief flashes of terror as the demons close in. No escape. Hands desperately extended to feel the way tangle with more hands, and startle other lost souls. The torture of aimlessly wandering for an eternity, and all these people and things in the way, could drive one to madness. Is this it? Is this what it will be like: Gehenna, Hades, Purgatory? Maybe if we just follow the walls, maybe there’s an end to this dungeon. What if there isn’t. What if it just leads to a dead end?