You come across a mangled corpse.

Upon further inspection of the body, you can see that it was attempting to crawl somewhere while it lay dying. Somewhere – or away from something. In its hand it grasps a crumpled, fragile sheet of paper.

You carefully smooth the paper over, and what appears to be a map unfolds. As you look closer, the map seems to be of the labyrinth in which you find yourself now. The map is of no further use at to you this time. As you start to carefully fold it into a more manageable size, you see writing.

The back, of course. You hadn't thought to turn the map over. Unfolding what you had folded, you begin to read the hastily written passages.

"There is no escape… no escape. I have searched for what seems to me months, looking to find a way out of this forsaken labyrinth, to no avail. I always seem to keep ahead of them, but I know that the hour will come when I can run no longer. The hope I once held of escaping is just a faint trace of what it once was. I have stopped to write my final words on this old map, with which I so confidently entered with ridiculous dreams of treasures, fame, and glory. I have often wondered if I would die of the unrelenting cold, the lack of nourishment, or the demonic beings that wander this Hell. Now, in my current status and state of mind, I no longer care."

“I cannot, nor dare to get a minute of sleep. The screams that echo through this satanic place are more often than not inhuman, and I can merely wonder if they are so much unlike that which the Devil himself might utter. They penetrate into my very being, sapping all courage and hope from me, driving me to madness. Many a time, I have been spared by the seemingly more intelligent denizens that wander the lengths of this maze. It brings joy to them to see my suffering. Although I am spared by them, the more primitive and unthinking inhabitants lunge at me from every corner. It is a trap."

"My weapon is now the only tangible and reliable thing in this sad existence that is now mine. Their constant attacks have not left me unmarked, but they have suffered the worst of our encounters. However, I begin to wonder if they truly have. I will not deny I have often had thoughts of taking my own life, just to escape forever these tangled and twisted passages. I cannot bring myself to do it. The mind is a strange thing that way. Pride before will, and will before sense."

“In uncommon moments of relative calmness, my troubled mind recalls a time before the day I wandered into the labyrinth. It has proven quite difficult for me to remember, but pieces of my previous existence do come back to me on occasion. So determined and so driven to make a life for myself, but so unappreciative of life, itself, as well. Though, I’m not sure of exactly why I take comfort in these thoughts or why I bother to think of the man that I formerly was. That man is dead. Realizing this, I continue on in the procession to my inevitable doom.”

"I have surrendered myself entirely. It wasn’t a conscious decision; what is left of me simply would not allow myself to move forward any longer. The eye is always upon me, directing them to me. I have forgotten the taste of food and the cool relief of water. I will run no longer. I will sit here, the place where I entered, but cannot escape from. This cruel new reality is my home, where I shall let fate run its course. It should not be long before they are upon me. I can hear their defiled and gruesome ranks more clearly as they draw nearer. I know not what fate they have chosen for me, as I have never let them catch me. I can picture them coming from every direction. I – "

That is the last of the entries. You look back in the direction you came from, with a frightened glance. The way is shut.