Clancy, startled by the sight of the many hooded forms surrounding him, crossed one foot in front of the other and fell to the ground. He thought he was surely doomed but soon found that crawling on the ground flat on his stomach, the attackers were unable to find him, their knives slashing through empty space or one another. He continued that way pressing through the crowd and brushing against the cold, clammy flesh of their legs for what felt like hours. He suddenly noticed a thin line of light on the floor in front of him. He scrambled to it. There on the floor was a octagonal panel which Clancy lifted and flung aside revealing a ladder leading down into a chamber lit from within. As he mounted the ladder and began to descend he peered up into the room above. The hooded figures stood motionless now and encircled the ladder. Their heads seemed to be writhing and undulating beneath the black cloth that draped over them. The crowd parted and a new figure emerged from the mass of pale flesh. It was the headless body of the woman from the rest stop, now walking upright and purposefully to the center of the room. The corpse removed its clothing and stood nude in the glow of the chamber beneath. Clancy watched as a snake slithered out of the inky blackness and began to climb around and up the corpse's leg. The snake itself was bloated and covered with red scales the color of fresh blood. It made its way upward and coiled its fat rubbery body around the stump of the woman's severed neck forming a hideous counterfeit head. Clancy was too terrified to move. He hung from the ladder frozen, unable to look away from the nightmarish spectacle above. One of the other figures stepped forward carrying one of the long black hoods in its arms and draped it gently over the still squirming serpentine head. Another placed a long rusty knife into the woman's hand. The sight of the knife was enough to break Clancy's paralysis. He began descending the ladder at a feverish pace, slipping once and falling a few feet before catching hold of another rung and continuing his way down into the chamber below. Above him the figures had dispersed no longer interested in him perhaps. When he reached the bottom of the ladder he had to drop the final yard or so into the room. He landed on the floor in a bloody heap. He had received two fairly deep stab wounds and several smaller wounds; the loss of blood was beginning to make his head spin. He stood and for the first time surveyed the chamber. His heart nearly burst from his chest as he found himself staring into the sinister face of the dragon, and this time it was no drawing.