pain so hunger hard crushing to damned think agony

convulsion voices forward are twinge in starving my never head splitting

left saying dying things alone giving abyss directions insipid

where no spinning no only no silence no legion no help

sever i writhing am cry in hurting their never heads burning

many my disease mind please is step empty smash unused consuming

aberration cannot unbalance concentrate move swept delirium away frenzy

torment pain stitch pain afflict pain distress pain only pain help

Winning Vote:
Option 2 – “Snap...”

The aftermath of the sound is filled with an almost deafening silence. Not a shout rings out, not a claw scrapes across the floor, not a mote of dust falls. The floor has stopped shaking. Somehow this is even scarier.

The silence does give you a moment to pull yourself back together and examine yourself. Two eyes, ten fingers, and nine toes. Check, check, and check. You scrape a hand over your head and find no new damage beyond a raised bump.

“At least fate has not been a complete cock gobbler today,” you decide, pulling yourself to your feet. Stooping to avoid the now irritatingly low ceiling, you begin to move towards the scream you heard earlier. The lack of light slows your pace but at least keeping one hand to the wall will ensure you don't get turned around.

Despite the dust kicked up as you move, the air smells surprisingly fresh. Almost as if—

*krick*

You pull your foot back and reach down. As soon as your fingers touch it, you know what you've found: an empty candy wrapper. The kind of wrapper that makes eating candy in church so difficult to do.

You take another step forward.

*krick*

Another wrapper.

*krick*

Another step...

You pull your foot back and step again...

And again...

And to the side!

*krick*

Back to center and then to the other side!

*crrhk*

You kneel and feel for what you stepped on. A quick glance would be able to tell you what it is, but, without any light, you'll have to settle for tasting it...yup, thousand-year-old dirt...and peppermint! Hot damn!

Crawling forward, there's another wrapped peppermint—and another—and another. You shift to the right and find an empty wrapper and then another and another, all in a line. You take several steps further to the right before taking a dozen steps to the left. The walls are definitely moving further apart, though, whether they're widening to make a room or to split into new tunnels, you have no idea.

Since going back doesn't seem like much of an option, you...