The ascent up the winding staircase was as long as before. Gilligans fear and trepidation were replaced with annoyance and frustration. He no longer cared about the possible dangers he may face. As long as something happened. Anything at all. Gilligan couldn't fathom a worse fate than being lost and slowly starved to death, especially in a place like that. So cold, so dark.

Gilligan finally reached the top of the staircase. He discovered a very familiar ladder that rose up into a trapdoor that he was very well acquaintanced with at that point. 

Two obvious choices awaited Gilligan, though he was free to do whatever he wished. One was to climb out of the trapdoor. The other was to descend the stairs back down into the dark hall. In such a strange and magical environment, who's to say what's real and what's not? Especially if the magic was powerful enough to bend reality.