I left the bathroom/save point with an air of determination. I can't explain how or why, exactly, but the maze seemed strangely familiar; so familiar that I knew most of it by heart.
I fearlessly led the group North, North, West, North, and East, in that order, and encountered no problems whatsoever (besides the dificulties associated with trying to walk in chain-covered bondage pants). As I journied down this last passage, the familiarity of the place seemed to fade away. We came to a tunnel leading North, while the Eastward path we had been walking down continued further in the same direction. My confidence left me; I was no longer certain that I knew the way. I'd heard the echoing of undead voices throughout the entire maze, but had yet to actually encounter any zombies. Still, it sounded like there were a few close by. I readied my gun, in case some fiend should leap from the shadows and latch onto my jugular. I wasn't sure why I was so paranoid about my jugular; it just seemed like the kind of thing a cyborg zombie would enjoy latching onto.
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