Without any further deliberating, I take off down the steps of the cliff. Each step down is another step closer to the real land of Death. What appeared to be grassland from above is only grey, dead stalks of a thin reed. When I step into the grasslands, the stalks grasp at my legs like the hands of the dead. I try to ignore this thought and all the other creepy ideas making their way into my head. I just run. I pass the first of the houses, and I hear a stirring and a mumbling from inside. I ignore that too. None of these dead people matter. None of them have what I want. I run along the paths due west, avoiding any houses where there seems to be a lot of movement. I don't know what Death is capable of, but if he can dissolve someone into thin air, I have no doubt that he can spy on the eyes and minds of his dead subjects.
    Keeping this in mind, I increase my pace. Is it just my imagination, or do I hear footsteps behind me? I risk a single glance back and see nothing, but I am still not reassured. My feet and heart pound as I run. I don't notice anything around me, I only have one thought in mind until I trip and fall down a hill.
    When the ground gives out beneath me, I don't even have time to scream. As the scenery flashes past me I try to grab onto something, anything to stop my fall. It's not that I'm scared of the fall, after all I am already dead, but it's that I'm afraid of what might be waiting at the bottom. I've always had an impeccable sense of direction and distance, and from the maps I saw, I shouldn't be here yet.
    That is, if "here" is even where I am. Maybe Death has the terrain itself under his control, to move around and tilt as he wishes, to catch all unsuspecting trespassers and rebellious gifts.
    Finally I grab onto tree roots and haul myself to my feet. A single glance around confirms my fears. I just slid down the hill that leads into the darkest part of Death—the place that can only be called Hell.
    I don't want to think about what it means that I somehow got so confused that I missed the bridge. I don't want to think about what could be lurking around me even now. I focus only on my goal.
    Still nestled in the tree roots, I pull a book out of the sack I had packed. I had gotten up early this morning and stashed it where it would be easily accessible after "work," and I'm glad of my planning. I didn't expect to be here already, but maybe Death did me a favor. Now it's light, and I can only hope that means most monsters won't be out yet.
    I flip through the pages until I find what I need: an address, if it can even be called that.
The Sixth Circle of Hell, L2S1R8
    That is the inscription for the Place of Residence entry for the Black Heart I met on my first day. I have questions, and he's the only one who can answer them.
    I walk quickly, hoping I'm reading the maps correctly. If my calculations are correct, I need to proceed 2000 paces straight ahead, then I will reach the Sixth Circle. From there, his dwelling should be in the second "neighborhood"to the left, the first block to the south, and the eighth house on the right.
    I keep walking at a brisk pace, these directions pounding themselves out in my head. I reach the main intersection of the Sixth Circle, and stop, horrified. I read the books, but nothing could have prepared me for the actual sight. Instead of houses, there are just holes. From each hole comes scraping and banging, and I realize that these people are digging their own graves.
    I retch, a forgotten human movement. Even though there is no food in my stomach, I still feel the bile working its way up. I did this to these people, at least some of them. At least the one I'm going to see now. How could I ever have done this, how could I not have asked questions about what truly happened to the people? After all, they're still people, no matter what they did in Life!
    With this in mind, I stride forward. I'm indignant and upset. I'm about to do something drastic, try to rescue one of these people from their hole, when the hairs of my neck stand up. I look around to see a greasy man staring at me. He has dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, and wolfish eyes that roam shamelessly down my body. His lips curl into an evil smile, and I realize who the people here really are. The worst of the worst, the scum of the earth. And this man has the mark of a supervisor. I don't even want to know the things he's done to be in charge of all the evil in this place. He starts walking toward me menacingly, and for the second time today I break into a run. I dodge around holes and try to run away, but I know there's nowhere for me to go. This land is barren—no place to hide except...in the holes.
    I realize the holes must all connect, and that can be how I escape. I stop, look down a hole, and since it appears to be empty, I jump in. Thankfully, my suspicion is correct, and I see a tunnel. I hope the man didn't see me jump in here, and if he did, I can hope that he is too slow to catch me amidst the winding tunnels. I take off at a sprint, trying to navigate around holes with people in them while also trying to continue in the original direction I want to go. I think I am nearing the place where I want to be so I slow down. I haven't heard any footsteps after me, so I think I'm safe.
    Nervously, I peek out of the tunnel, and immediately jump back. I can see him there, right above me, as if he's waiting for me. His back is to me, but I recognize his greasy hair. My heart pounds even harder, and I press a hand to it, hoping that will calm it down so he doesn't hear it and come after me. Gingerly, I take two steps backward into the tunnel I just came from, and when I hear no sound from above, I take off running. As soon as I do, an alarm sounds.
    Panic grips me, but I don't stop running. I know stopping means a fate far worse than death, so I keep going. I turn around the first corner and hundreds of people slam into me.
    I'm caught up by a crowd, and at first I try to fight it, both to keep going the direction I'm trying to get: away, and also trying to avoid getting crushed. But after expending nearly all my energy in a few seconds and not getting anywhere, I change strategy. With this many people, I can hide. But the downside: with this many people, I have zero chance of finding the person I'm here for.
    I go along with the flow, even when we enter the sunlight. We shuffle into a line to receive some sort of slop, and I'm surprised to see that the people around me are actually eating it. I thought dead people didn't have to consume anything. This seems counterproductive to their work,  but I'm not going to question Death. He clearly has a plan for everything, I think bitterly.
    I take the slop and angle myself into a group of tall people, where I can keep watch for both the evil man and for the person I'm looking for. I don't see either, and I carefully maneuver around the tall people, who thankfully aren't looking at me, to try and get better look. Suddenly, a hand a closes over my wrist.
    My heart stops, and I turn quickly to try and escape, but I'm pushed back against someone's chest and a hand covers my mouth. Before I can bite it, he whispers in my ear. "I'm the one you're looking for. Come with me and I'll answer your questions." Without warning, he shoves me in front of him and we run together and jump into the nearest hole.
    "Now, ask me your questions. We don't have much time."
I turn and look at him. We're kneeling in a half-filled in tunnel, with dirt all around us. I should be scared talking with a Black Heart, but I'm not. "You don't look like a cold-hearted killer." I clap my hand over my mouth. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."
    He returns my gaze. "Don't worry, I'm not one. In fact, I'm like you."