The Depth of The Roots

My throat is so dry that I can't even stick out my tongue; it feels as fragile as a weak, rough rock.

I can hear the voices and screams of others, and I know what I'm doing is wrong, but what other choice do I have?"

I turned the pages and stumbled upon another entry. "It has been almost a year since and I have been trapped in this place. I couldn't escape and I am slowly losing my sanity.

I wish a train could come so my suffering could be ended, but no train came."

I closed the book with a loud slap and wiped away my tears. "It's so painful," I muttered. "There's no map or directions, and it seems like there's no way out. But maybe, just maybe, there's a hidden path through this tunnel!"

"We should take this diary with us," I suggested. "The one who wrote it wanted to share his story, and perhaps we could find his weaknesses and other details that could help us in our fight against the immortals."

"Are you sure about this?" Jim asked, moving closer to the train tracks.

"I'm certain,"