Dice and Jonah
I’m leaning on the slime-slick walls for balance, and I swear that something just crawled over my hand. Dice thinks I’ve been making shit up this whole time. I almost didn’t want to follow him down the stairs, but then I’d be stuck by myself, with whatever’s behind us gaining ground.
This is the worst five tickets I’ve ever spent.
Dice pulls out his flask and takes a swig by torchlight. I don’t know where he got the torch. Probably neither does he.
“Something just crawled over my hand, man,” I tell him.
“Dude, stop making this shit up.”