The corridor smelled like damp and the dim light showed a dip in the stone floor, as if many had walked over it. My hand was on Kestrel's arm, pulling her along. The faint sound of thwacking in the distance had faded for now, but I knew it would be back soon.

"Do you think he's much further ahead?" Kestrel asked quietly. It took me a second to realise she was talking about the Other.

"I don't know," I said curtly, still unsure if she was another Benny.

I tried to pull her along quicker, the fear of a bladed axe shining in my mind. A strange whistling sounded down the corridor and the hair on my arms stood up. Kestrel let out a strangled yelp.

"We need to move faster," I said, dragging her along as the corridor turned left and revealed a metal door, complete with sinister looking studs.

I placed my hand on the handle even as the whistling grew louder. The metal was hot, as if it were alive.

"Open the door!" Kestrel moaned and I did.

Inside was a prison.

It was like something from the 1800s, although I wasn't sure how I knew that. My heartbeat was a drum as I took in the open door of cells, the barred windows inside them. There were hammocks for prisoners to sleep in and remains of meals, as if they had just departed. A strange device, with a sign naming it a crank, stood in one room. It was just a handle and a circular box. How odd.

The door swung shut as Kestrel crowded in behind me. Her pink hair looked neon in the harsh lighting. I oddly felt as if we were being watched, as if we were on show for someone.

"I hope we don't hear that whistling again," Kestrel muttered and I didn't reply. I didn't want to get too friendly with her. Who knew what game she was playing?

I made my way down the corridor and stopped, peering into a prison cell. Maybe the way out was in an unusual place.

"What's in here?" Kestrel asked, and walked into the cell. I shook my head, my skin crawling as I went in after her. The walls were white and covered in scrawls by former inmates. Two frayed hammocks hung over a cold stone floor. A metal plate bearing a hunk of bread had been left abandoned on the ground. As my eyes drifted over the ground I came across something else...a red diary. As if a prisoner had been perusing through it. Even though I had been reading it before we entered the Dungeon. Bile made its way up my throat.

"Oh, look what's been written here!" Kestrel cooed, her fear gone in a childish excitement. She was definitely suspicious. Her wide eyes sparkled with innocence.

I peered at the wall and made out: Johnny Banks was here, for dealing with demons...

The name burned in my mind. Johnny Banks. I knew that name...

"Maybe the Dungeon master is a demon," Kestrel said, the excitement gone from her face. Fear had returned.

"We should go," I said sharply, no longer wanting to be in this cell. Not near that name. But even as we went to leave, the metal door of the cell slammed shut.

Kestrel let out a yell and grabbed the handle, yanking at the door. I stood frozen, panicking internally. The whistling started up again, and for some reason the image of the man with holes for eyes jumped into my head.

I unfroze myself and tugged at the door with Kestrel.

"It won't unlock!" She shouted, her eyes wild. "We're going to die! Oh god..."

She burst into sobs and crouched, hugging herself. I stared down at her and then at the door again. There was always a way out. This was a game, there had to be. It wouldn't be much of a show if there wasn't a chance.

The metal door was old and worn, except for....a gleaming keyhole. That was it!

"Kestrel!" I shouted, shoving her. She fell out of her crouch onto the cold floor. "Stop giving up and help me look for the key. It has to be in here!"

She blinked at me for a second and then got to her feet. Her eyes drifted to the door and then widened.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. Then she dashed over to the hammocks and started moving thin pillows. I lifted the stale bread, wondering if the key was under it or something.

As I searched, Kestrel let out another yell. She was so loud.

"Look what I found!" She held up a piece of almost translucent paper and I gasped. It looked like...tissue paper but with writing on it. Just like in the hospital...

What if it started moving in her hands? What if-

"It says: Although this thing has a spine/it doesn't have a face/although it is not clothing/it gets stored in a case."

The words jerked me back to reality. The tissue paper wasn't moving and it sounded like...

"It's a riddle," I said, mind playing with the words. A spine and in a case...

"What could it be? A spine, hmm. I hope it's not a skeleton!" she said and I rolled my eyes.

"I don't see a skeleton in here, do you?" I asked, again wondering how she made it this far. But I didn't want her to die, even if she wasn't to be trusted.

A spine, a case...the red book flashed like a beacon.

"It's a book," I said and bent down to open it. I read the pages and saw they were the same, except for something hard nestled between a page. I pulled out an old iron key. It was big and worn from age.

Kestrel smiled as I inserted it into the lock and turned. The door swung open with a creak. We were back in the prison corridor...for now.

But as we left, the red diary once more discarded on the ground, the name Johnny Banks lingered within me.

We moved down the corridor like cats, each step measured. Kestrel made sure not to walk into any cells again, although some called out to us.

Clattering sounds to draw us in, even a voice in one of them.

"Hello?" A wheezy voice asked and I grabbed Kestrel to stop her responding. I looked into the cell where the voice was coming from but there was no one there. I shook my head and we moved on.

As we were coming to the end of the corridor and a narrow set of stairs led upwards, we heard something else.

Maniacal laughter.

The last cell on the right had a small window, only big enough for a pair of eyes to glimpse inside. The door was shut. The laughter was chilling, as if evil and madness had been given voice, and was punctured by a yell. It sounded distant, that yell, as if it coming from far away.

I knew that voice. I had only heard it once.

I pulled a shrinking Kestrel closer to the cell and looked through the small window.

Some evil creature, who looked like Gollum (whoever that was) with large crimson eyes was howling with laughter as it flicked a whip at the Other. He was yelling, the lash striking him on the chest. The pointed teeth from the slathering mouth of the monster made me shake. Its grin was full of malice and insanity.

I doubled over, staggering away from the window. Kestrel looked inside and gasped, her nails digging into her palms.

"Oh my god! It's like a demon..." she said and I forced myself upright. It was.

"What can we do? We better run, Nameless..." she said, a tear streaking down her face. Another yell clashed with the laughter. I stared at her.

"You can run if you want," I snapped, seeing Benny in her teary eyes. "I can't leave him in there with that thing."

Because those yells were even worse than the crimson eyes and pointed teeth. They would follow me forever if I ran away. He was like me. How could I leave him?

Kestrel shook her head and opened her mouth and shut it again. I expected her to run away up the stairs.

"H-how? What do we do?" She asked. She wanted to stay.

"We need to get the door open," I replied, smiling at her properly for the first time.