Shadowgate

You clatter hard on to your left shoulder as a faint ringing washes through you from the impact of your head against solid stone. Thrashing in the unforgiving darkness, the gate creaks and moans a melancholy tune.

Struggling to your hands and knees, you lift your head to witness the last sliver of moonlight eradicated as the gate thunders closed with an affirming reassurance of clockwork orchestra.

In the silence, your breathing mimics the hastening beat of your heart. Disoriented, you delve through your trouser pockets. Hunched over yourself on what feels like a finely woven carpet, you cringe as the few coins you have scatter to the uncharted floor. By sheer coincidence, and perhaps a deathly luck, you withdraw a moist packet of matches from the recesses of a compartment you had at a time forgotten.

After several attempts, with an outburst of glee you scramble to your feet as the room flares into sudden perspective.

A massive metal door leers at you from the end of the lengthy narrow hall. As your eyes adjust, you observe the details in the lavish red carpet. Two unlit torches sentry the opposing walls.