….The heavens open up, and the rain begins to pour down upon Turner. He casts a fevered look across to Cathy and the others before taking another step forward. The ground trembles with renewed vigour as fissures open up before him. He sucks breath after breath in, chocking on the river that washes down his face. He takes another step, and the ground before him open up, creating a cavalcade of disjointed steps that leads down into a pit of lava.

He casts another wayward glance back over to the others before leaping from step to step as if he was a character from a computer game. As he reaches the plateau, he lands awkwardly and tumbles helplessly forward, somehow narrowly avoiding the scorching sea of molten earth and ending up sprawled out at the base of a throne built from the bones of countless victims.

“The final step is always the trickiest,” a sinister voice snarls before him.

He bites down upon his bottom lip and looks with wide panicked eyes towards the ground below him. He clenches his hands into tightly wound fists, gripping handfuls of the scarred earth as he does. “Is that it?” he spits…..