It's been hours. I have no way of proving how much time has passed, but I know I've been here a long time and I have not moved. It's cold, and the surface I'm on is hard and unyielding like concrete. The only sound beyond my breathing is the steady drip of a pipe leaking far from where I am. It smells like chemicals, the kind you use in a pool, but I don't think that's where I am. I think I'm somewhere underground. All I know is, there is nothing but darkness, all around me. Darkness is all I see. Darkness, and those eyes staring back at me. I haven't moved from this spot because there is something keeping me still. It grips me tight and refuses to let me escape my dark prison. I'm terrified of the dark and all that could ever be within it, every horror one can imagine and those beyond imagining like great dark gods whose burden is to one day devour the world. I have nothing to fight this darkness. With no knowledge of where I am and no memory of how I got here, I can’t imagine myself being able to put up much of a fight… if any at all. I keep my eyes fixed on the glowing eyes before me as I slowly and quietly feel around for something — anything — to use to my advantage. Suddenly, there is a single match, clutched between the fingers of my left hand, and a matchbox in my right. Where did they come from? Were they here before? They couldn’t have been… I don't want to light it. I want to, but I don't. It's my only match, and when I light it, it'll only show me where I am and show me the path to go once, and I have to be sure I'm ready to go, because as soon as that match goes out, I will never see the path again. There is also the problem of the eyes, still staring at me, as if waiting for me to strike that match against the cold floor. The eyes, level with mine, stare and wait, waiting to see my face. Like a predator, perhaps it will not attack unless it is sure I will be easy prey, for it is bound by the darkness as well. The silence and the darkness are starting to suffocate now, and I can't take anymore. My fear is building, my heart won't stop racing, my breathing won't even. I have to go. I have to go now. I strike the match with a trembling hand, and bring it quickly but carefully in front of me, throwing the sudden light on those eyes that watched me all this time and never told me where I was or who put me here. I was staring at my reflection in the mirror, those eyes staring back at me were my own. The match flickered, but remained still, much like me. I knew I should look around me, find a way out, get going, but I was fixated on the mirror and my reflection. Then, I saw a subtle movement, one I didn't make, come from the mirror, a change in the position of my reflections lip's. A blow of breath, and the match went out. I heard my own voice whisper to me from the mirror…’’RUN!’’ followed by a bloodcurdling cackle. And then I was running. Passed my reflection and through the darkness. That God awful never ending darkness