All was in complete darkness. Only the echoing sounds of his own footsteps accompanied the stalwart hero down into the inky blackness. Gilligans lantern illuminated the stairwell only a couple of meters in front of him. The limestone walls and stairs were perfectly smooth and cool to the touch. Immaculately clean without a trace of moisture. 

It didn't take long for the darkness and quiet to get to Gilligan. Paranoid thoughts and feelings swirled in his head like a hurricane. Filling the the gaps that his sensory deprivation left in his mind. Gilligan had no way of telling the time. Whether he traversed down the stairs for several minutes to a couple of hours, he knew not. For all Gilligan knew, these stairs could very well lead him to the gates of hell itself.

And so he continued, barely keeping his courage intact. Down into the heart of darkness. The very essence of mystery itself made the air tingle.