Connection terminated.

I'm sorry to interrupt you, Elizabeth, if you still remember that name. But I'm afraid you've been misinformed. You're not here to receive a gift, nor has the person you think called you. Although you have.

You've all been called here. To a labyrinth of sounds and smells, of deceit and misfortune. A labyrinth with no way out, a labyrinth with no reward. You don't even realize you're trapped. Your thirst for blood has sent you circling endlessly, chasing the cries of children in some invisible chamber, always so close, and yet just out of reach.

But you'll never find them, none of you. Your story ends here.

And to you, my brave volunteer, who somehow found this job offer that wasn't meant for you. Although there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. I have a feeling you're right where you want to be. I'm staying too, I'm close.

This place will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally fade. As the agony of every tragedy should fade. And to you, monsters trapped in the corridors: be still and relinquish your spirits, they do not belong to you.

For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more waiting for you after the smoke clears. Though, for one of you, the darkest pit of hell has opened to swallow you whole, so don't keep the devil waiting, old friend.

My daughter, if you can hear me, knew you would return too. It is in your nature to protect the innocent. I am sorry that on that day, the day they closed the door on you and left you to die, no one was there to lift you in their arms as you lifted others in yours. And then, what became of you?

I should have known you would not be content to disappear, not my daughter. I could not save you then, so let me save you now.

It is time to rest. For you, and for those you've carried in your arms.

This ends for all of us.

End of communication.