The trapdoor had been shattered and rubble was piled up in the stairwell below. A haze of dust and vaporized plaster gave the depths the impression, indeed, of some macabre Victorian underground labyrinth or prison straight from a Fuseli drawing. The twin flashlights of Geraint and Streak lit the gloom. They showed the first of the bodies at the foot of the steps. Stepping carefully over it, Streak led them on.