On the Edge

I cautiously creep along the ledge. My heart beat races while my toes point out to nothingness. Somehow Mamba remains calm as can be. I suppose it is an added benefit to being a fool. How could one be afraid when they are in ignorance of the danger beneath their feet? The ledge seemingly ends at a wall. Mamba, still keeping his composure, places both hands against the wall. He then does a rhythmic knock. It goes on for quite some time, and I think he's having fun with me, but the wall slides open. "Follow me closely. You won't want to get lost." He says, with a devilish grin. We walk through the tunnel. It is so dark that the only thing I have guiding me is the faint sound of his footsteps. Soon I can barely hear his footsteps. They are drowned out by horrendous wailing. "What is that?" I ask. "Other prisoners. Don't stop." He warns. But I can't help it. The melancholy wailing overpowers me. I stop dead in my tracks. As soon as I stop, I can feel thousands of cold hands reaching out to me. "They got me!" I shout. I feel another hand reach out to me. This one, however, is not cold. It yanks me by the arm and continues walking. "I told you not to stop." Mamba reminds. "I couldn't help it." Mamba tightens his grip as we move forward. The wailing only grows louder the further we walk, but eventually we see light emitting from behind a door. Mamba does a similar rhythmic knock on the door. Except this time he has to pull it open. We run through to the other side. Mamba finally lets me go, and he slams the door shut. "I told you not to stop." He tells me again. "Maybe we should have stopped. They were prisoners. We could have saved them too." "No, you save yourself. You don't worry about them." "But I will." I insist. "We're not going back." Mamba eyes the stone stairway before us. "If you want to go back, be my guest, but I won't." I sigh. "Show me the way."