Crack, crack, crack
The sounds of iron hitting the wet ground over and over again echoed through the long passage that saw no light. The tunnel was cold, dark and humid. The breath of the seven people who walked inside of it created a white clouds as it went in and out, warming them a bit as the degree kept decreasing the further they went. The chains kept being dragged over the hard rocks hitting the walls in times and bruising the two white legs that held them. It was pitch dark yet the small droplets of blood can be seen and scent from far away while they created a trail to be easily followed. Drop by drop, they fell as the innocent skin tasted the rough hard poisonous steel.
