Sometimes the end is just the window to a new beginning.

The rough walls of the passageway felt cold to his fingertips as he stumbled against them, trying to recover the strength, the strength that so much emotion had drained from his body. His haggard breathing only reached his own ears and echoed off of the cold bricks which were slowly becoming his new prison.

No light could be seen, but water could be heard slowly trickling through cracks in the wall. It pooled on the ground, scattering when his feet moved forward.

"Move...move," a small voice resounded in his head, "just move forward. Don’t stop now, you’ve made it this far."