The cement steps led down into a long narrow, cement corridor, an underground tunnel that led to something unknown but in our reach. The corridor was dark and cold but flickering lights came from bulbs above us every few feet, providing a dim lit path as we walked. We walked at a pace to not be heard and listened for any sounds but there was nothing. Not yet. It seemed like we walked for five minutes down this straight corridor before we reached a turn and when we made that turn there was more corridor all the way down into the depths of flickering lights and silence. So, we walked. Left turn, straight down, another left turn and straight down, and a right turn. This is where the lights stopped and the tunnel led right into darkness, pitch black darkness. Detective Arc turned around to face me and whispered, “Hold my hand. We need to walk very slow. I will lead the way, okay?” I nodded my head once and grabbed her hand, squeezing it without meaning to. I turned to look behind me, the last of the flickering lights, the last of what was visible. In front of us was a darkness so black, you couldn’t see your own arms. The type of darkness where you disappear inside of it, blending with it and becoming part of it in a way where you become nothing and there is nothing except the dark. The only sound was that of our shuffling feet and small, short breathes. The fear that lived in us was louder than our movement. We moved an inch then paused until our next movement. I always thought that not being able to see what’s ahead would be the worst thing to ever experience, but I would soon prove myself wrong. There are some things that you never want to see, that you wish you could unsee and that make the darkness a comforting place. We walked with the movement of the blind and stopped when we both heard the same noise. It was a groaning sound in the far away distance, a cry maybe, like someone in an exhausting pain close to giving up but still with a sliver of hope that they might be heard. We were their sliver. The echoed cries vibrated throughout the darkness around us. I squeezed Detective Arc’s hand and whispered, “I’m scared.” She stopped walking and I knew she turned around only because I could feel her breathe near my ear as she whispered back in total darkness, “I am too but we are the only hope to save them, to save Miles.” “What if I can’t? What if we never get out of here?” I asked and began to cry. Detective Arc placed her hands onto my shoulders with a gentle touch, that of a mother. She said, “If you don’t try, you won’t get out and you will end up in this dark place forever.” Down in the depths and darkness of the Red Room, she hugged me like I was her daughter, like someone she loved dearly. The moaning cries in the distance echoed around us as we hugged. “Are you good?” Sophia asked. “I’m good.” I felt for her hand and held it. We walked toward the cry and something brushed against my feet, scurrying by and sending chills up my leg, through my spine and over my neck. We heard them. Little claws scratched at the ground and squeaking noises passed beneath us, at our feet. We both froze and just stood in the dark waiting for the rats to pass by.