Yells in the distance.  Roars.  Elsewhere, in the prisons far too far above Elizabeth's head, the Beasts had been let loose.  For a moment she wondered if her chances would have been better in the cell block with the other prisoners.  At least there she could<em>see</em>the monsters.  The light in Sector 84 was extremely poor.  She suspected there would be no light at all, if Flayer hadn't found one of the old generators and set it working again.  The occasional flickering lamp was a blessing, for they seemed to keep the lurking horrors at bay.  Even the Cats didn't come this deep beneath Crematoria's surface.  Humans were as easy prey to them as they were to the<em>things</em>down below.  That was hardly a comforting thought, being on the very bottom of the food chain in unfamiliar territory.<br/><br/><em>"Considering your chances?"</em>the voice whispered.  Like he could read her mind so effortlessly.<em>"It's not too late, Miss Elizabeth.  You can turn back.  Perhaps the kittens are preferable to what lies ahead."</em><br/><br/>Her lips curled unpleasantly.  It wasn't the cats she had to worry about.  One didn't spend as many years as she had only to get gutted by those beasts.  That was a death reserved for new meat and the careless.  No doubt he knew it too.  He wanted her to admit what she was really afraid of.  What she would dare encountering the Abominations of the deep in order to avoid.  Him.  The one man in the galaxy that had ever truly chilled her blood.  Elizabeth had met rapists, serial killers, and more than a few contemptible monarchs in her time, but Flayer was truly the worst of them all.  He, or<em>it</em>, was a being that had built itself up as an symbol of Fear itself.  Every aspect of his body custom tailored to alienate and disturb.  The skull-like mask with far too many crimson lenses for the number of eyes a person should rightfully have.  The black cloak that seemed to suck the light right out of the air.  The yards and yards of cruel barbed wire that she'd personally seen used to strip an entire pack of burly Cats down to their bones.  The artificial voice that sparked and crackled with malice.  She'd heard rumors that Flayer had slit his own throat just to have the implants installed, because just using a filter would have seemed too fake.  She didn't doubt it.<br/><br/>She'd kept careful track of how many floors she traversed.  Forty-three.  Forty-three floors that she'd have to run back up if she hoped to survive.  That voice was getting far too close for her liking, as were the shadows that occasionally shifted unnaturally just beyond the glow of the torches.  So far there had been no other ways back to the surface.  Just a long, perilous decline down endless ladders.  The structure of the place seemed all wrong.  For starters, there were generally chains hanging down from the ceiling.  Secondly, there was never only one stairwell.  Either the other one had fallen apart from neglect and abuse, or her "escort" had done some remodeling of the area.  Peering hesitantly over the guardrail offered no signs that there would be any alternate routes to her cell, least of all any sort of lift to the surface.  Just a pitt that could very well plunge straight down to the core of the planet, and nests littered with the bones of all the others that had come before her.<br/><br/><em>"Come now!  Just a little bit further, Miss Elizabeth, and you will have your freedom!  Why, you've just about beaten the record.  Congratulations are in order!"</em><br/><br/>Elizabeth froze.  The record.  The farthest anyone had ever gotten.  In other words, the point at which everyone else had died.  She swore under her breath, looking around desperately for any hidden path that might bring the salvation she was in dire need of.  Nothing but slick black rock and rusty metal.  There was no way to go but to certain death.  Her decision was practically made for her.  Maybe the others had chosen to get eaten alive, but she wasn't going to die running away.  Taking in a deep breath, Elizabeth about-faced and set about climbing--cautiously--back to the floor she'd come from.<br/><br/>A harsh, erratic series of the wretched gasps that Flayer called laughter rebounded off the dank walls, sending the smaller eye-covered shapes scuttling out of sight.<em>"Oh?  Turning back when your goal is so close at hand?  Choosing a different reaper, are we?  Or..."</em><br/><br/>The voice trailed off, followed by an odd clicking noise that Elizabeth hadn't noticed before.  She furrowed her brow, hesitating.  Remembering.  The sound that had punctuated every sentence.  It took her a moment to realize where she'd heard the noise before, and when she did her heart skipped a beat.  The damnable Beast's voice had proven such a significant distraction that she hadn't paid any attention to it, but now that she thought about it the crackling noise had seemed just a bit more distorted than usual.  Coming from every direction at once, just a bit too unnaturally even in the wide, echoing cavern.  Without another word she began sprinting, sending thundering rattles through the cave as the catwalks groaned and strained under the sudden movement.<br/><br/>He was speaking over an intercom.<br/><br/><em>"Aha!  Yes, that's it!  You would be surprised how many fall for this game.  It's not terribly sporting, but it does weed out those with promise.  The inattentive keep getting deeper and deeper until they get devoured, or..."</em><br/><br/>"They find the lift!" she gasped, taking a flying leap at the next latter and scrambling up it like a spider.<br/><br/>Another laugh, followed by a crash and muddled shrieking from below.<em>"Precisely!"</em>This time there was no click; the voice was coming from several floors below, bellowing like some abyssal machine.<em>"The lift that goes directly to my office.  The fatal mistake: the assumption that I pursue from above, rather than below!"</em><br/><br/><to be continued>