Avina dragged her dress upstairs. It winded up to the ceiling and seemed to last forever. The humidity and pitch darkness did no favors to it either.
'How far must I walk?' Avina grumbled. Each time she placed her foot down, she could feel a slimy mucus-like membrane covering the floor. 'If I slip on the mold forming here…'
She didn't let her sentence finish itself before huffing. At this point, she even began to entertain the fact of scaling rooftops and jumping in windows. At least that way she wouldn't have to fear slipping on stairs and breaking her back. But then again, falling down from the rooftop wasn't injury-free either.
There was only one door at the very end of the stairs. The engineering aspect of having a singular stairway for a singular door was inscrutable. However, as this world was in a novel, and Donolve was the hidden man, Avina only shrugged. If he wanted to torture all his visitors, then so be it.
