Ellie wakes surrounded by walls of stone, carefully laid and worn ever smoother by time. There is a sense of dread that drifts through the cold hallway, like an unearthly draft that curls around her in the dead end of the hall where she lays. The only illumination is from a single lit candle amidst a collection of others that have burned down to waxy stubs.

Ahead and to her left is a door. Further on, a second door, and then a third before the end of the hallway and the double doors that stand there. There are collections of spiderwebbing along the edges of the ceiling, descending down toward the floor, and even a few that lay draped across doorways. What does she do?