Stan was walking through a long dark tunnel. His footsteps echoed in the long corridor, the familiar sound of slow tapping from his shoes. He kept a steady, even pace, and he walked mindlessly toward the white light at the end of the tunnel.
Am I dead? He thought. Is this the path to heaven?
Thoughts consumed his head as he looked around at the walls of the tunnel. With the distant light, he could see markings etched into the stone. Figures of what looked to be humans, wolves, birds, dragons, horses, griffins, chimeras, and many other beings that Stan could not distinguish.
Stan looked back toward where he had entered.
Black. Pitch black nothingness.
He turned his gaze ahead again, the end of the tunnel closer now, but still at a distance. "Where am I?" he asked himself, his whisper carrying along the stone walls.
A peculiar noise startled Stan, and he whirled around to investigate, his shoes creating a slamming sound on the floor with his sudden movement. He listened intently.
It sounded like whispering at first, but it grew louder until it almost sounded like a roar. And then Stan knew.
Rushing water. A river, maybe, but definitely a large amount of water.
Curious, Stan turned slowly about, but by the time he saw, it was too late.
A rush of cold water swept Stan off his feet and sent him barreling along with the current. He fought to keep his head above the water, coughing and spitting it out repeatedly. He strained to look back and saw the end of the tunnel, so close that he could see the sun—a fiery yellow ball rising beyond reddish cliffs. The next thing he knew, the darkness was gone, and he was suspended in mid-air. Below him was milky-white mist, above him was the blue sky, and all around him were mountains and tall mesas. But he worried most about what was beneath the mist. Now he was falling with the cataract of water, down into the unknown.