Strange light checkers the floor of a concrete hall. You dash through beam after beam, deciding it is warm and unfamiliar. The air thickens with each footfall. You do not know what is ahead of you. You are frankly no longer sure of what is behind you. The sterile swish of your assigned clothing melts into an acrid sweat that you have never felt, even during the most rigorous hours you spent in the Fitness Pavilion. You pass others just like you, feeling the same emptying sensation with each breath. You're sure they feel the same. They always have, you think. The path ahead of you barrels toward a widening pinprick of light and stench. This hallway was not meant to be walked. Not one this long. A quick trickle drips out from an unseen source between two support beams in the low ceiling. Water, you arrogantly assume. Your legs buckle. You slip in the pool it forms. You split your chin on the warm, wet concrete. Blood drips and dances among the pools forming on the floor. Your ankle th...