There were no real features on the surfaces around her, but there were curved openings that led to other places. After passing the first few (so very long, long ago it was for Mary, Mary, quite contrary), she’d learned not to look into those rooms. From the corner of her eyes, there seemed to be nothing but great, empty caverns through those doorways, as bland and featureless as the halls she ran down. But if one stopped and looked, places appeared. Places in which people did horrid things to other people, things that would make you scream and claw your eyes out if you watched too long. Things more hellish than that cute little legend of a lake of fire.