...

The solitary figure stood draped in the darkness. Just moments before, there had been a light burning brightly from within the tower; it had lured her like a beacon in the night. Inside, her eyes blinked, slowly trying to adjust to the darkness.
“Hello?” she called out hesitantly. “Is anyone there?”
“Come,” replied the deep voice.
Startled, she stepped backwards, her back hitting the door. Instinctively her hand reached for the handle, then slowly her hand slid back to her side. It was even darker outside, and cold, and rainy. Hesitantly she moved forward. Then she saw it, a tiny flicker of light... below her.... How could that be?
Edging slowly further, the light flickered up, briefly illuminating a deep spiraling staircase. The shadows dancing off the walls made it hard for her to discern the man holding the light.
“Who are you?” she cried out, the fear causing her voice to quake.
“Come,” came the same steady reply.
“Where?” her voice sounding unnaturally loud to her own ears.
Frantic, she looked up; there were no windows above her, and the ceiling was but a few feet above her head. Reaching out, she found the stone wall behind her, and slowly, blindly she moved about the tower. It seemed she was on a platform in a perfectly circular room. There seemed to be no furniture, nor pictures adorning the walls... merely a door leading out... and a staircase leading down... somewhere.

...

Read the rest of The Spiraling Staircase in Consent Magazine Issue #19 Autumn 2003