The hallway twisted and turned at random, disrupted every so often with a door or two that each led to the same street. At least from a glance they were completely identical but as soon as ones eyes began to wander, the differences leapt out and unease settled in.
In one door, the windows of the closest house on the right had sigils carved into every glass window pane.
In another, there were thin spiderweb covering the sky as if to mimic the clouds in the others.
But every street, every door and every turn within the corridor there was one constant.
One shared misery.
One dead child's body, being made to follow at a distance.