(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

She didn't want it to end after all.
There was the cold, the thousand piercing blades, and then the darkness
claimed her.
~~~~~
My knees struck the floor and my chest heaved. It was too much... I felt like
I'd been cored like an apple, my innards ripped from my body. Trembling
limbs padded and knocked against the bare stone as I crawled. Those
cannons... both trigger and trap. Had I been killed each time I'd pulled the
levers? It made sense now if the master of the Fortress knew me well. If the
master studied my previous incarnation when he was last here, forged the
markings in mimicry of his hand... if each time I pulled a lever I'd been
committing suicide...
They died for each step I took: each fighter and companion snuffed out so I
could live. I grew weaker each time I fell here, the shadow swarms were
sapping even more of my energy to fight them off.
The master of the Fortress was whittling me down little by little. I couldn't
face him like this... had to flee...
But I'd died four times... and one of my friends still lived.
I clung to that thought like a handhold and lifted myself up, stumbling in the
direction of that roar. I recognized these halls...
It was a portal, hung beneath an arch of cruel spines. Was this another trap?
Was it escape, or would it lead to my end?
There was no choice. I closed my eyes, and stepped through.
A chill prickled my skin, and it was like stepping through a veil. In an instant
the grim chambers of collective regrets vanished, replaced by gray-green
cobbles and twisted symbols, and ancient statues that stood silent. The
forest of stone sentinels was quiet save for the thud of my boots, the air dry
and cold. Now and again something seemed to catch my eye in the corner of
my vision, but when I turned nothing was there. Just the statues.
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