You're at the mouth of a tight, cramped tunnel that positively reeks of blood, meat and hot metal. The light is dim and red. The walls all around you are fleshy, pulsing and throbbing; you can hear the loud rush of blood through them. The skin on them also seems to writhe, if you look at it out of the corners of your eye: never still, in a process of constant change.

A wave of primal, animal fear rolls over you, thick, making it even harder to breathe: this is what a prey animal might feel, looking into the eyes of a predator. This is not safe.