Try to Cross the Chasm

"Well, alright," you say, looking back towards the path over the chasm, barely perceptible in the gloom. "I'll need some light please."

Several pairs of spidery arms emerge again from the shadows. They tickle up and down the bound man's sides with incredible speed. The man howls with laughter, bucking hopelessly against the heavy wooden stocks that restrain him. You turn away sheepishly. Better him than me, you think.

On the narrow path now, you can see it snakes crazily over and around the chasm, before coming to a ledge with a door on the far side.

The pitiful tickle slave behind you shrieks into an impossible register when more arms slither forward , dancing up and down his desperately clenching soles. You remember then, you've got to be judicial with the light.

"That's enough!" you call out once you've gotten several feet over the chasm. The ticklish laughter stops, but you can still here the man's labored breath over your shoulder.

The journey across the chasm is difficult, parts of the path are so narrow, it takes all your balance to cross them, even with the light. You're careful not to overtax the tickle slave, but the further out you travel the dimmer the light seems to be, and the faster it fades. What's worse, you think you see something (or some things) slithering through the inky darkness along the edges of the path when the light grows very dim.

You are more than half way to the door on the far side ...