She had walked that corridor a hundred times. A vacuum, where time did not exist. But it was night that crept up her veins and left her shivering. There was no end in sight, no doors nor windows to mark her passage.
Spat out of the stygian gloom, he appeared. Tall and large and unexpected. Menacing, until he held her. And she believed that no harm could come to her.
Darkness is a tricky thing, in that you believe that which you cannot see clearly. But it was still reassuring.
Even false comfort is better than no comfort at all.
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