The Spiral

1916:

The world was at war but Ralph Ford didn't know that. How long have we been observing him now? Why are you and I even here to witness this? The answer might become clear a bit later.

The stairs showed no sign of changing as he makes his descent. Darkness above. Darkness below. Onward and downward.

The only light was offered by his eyes whose pupils had diluted completely for what seemed so long ago. Had they'd just grown so accustomed to the darkness or was he just hallucinating? Ralph didn't know. And neither do we.

The only feeling is the sharp pain that Ralph's heels feel as they register the ache to his indifferent mind.

One sound was the sound of Ralph's ruined sandals as they hit the broad, lightly-sanded stairway. The second is not quite so obvious. We as observers can already tell by Mr. Ford's rapid descent. He hears someone beckoning him down those lonely steps, but as you can tell already, our ears are quite deaf to his summoners.

Now we observe Ralph doing what he has been doing every fifteen minutes. He pauses with one hand on the rough wall, sweat pouring from his temples. And we hear him make the only final sound we have heard in this place. He yells "I'm trying! I'm coming!" and continues his trek downward.

We know he must be making progress down this strange stairway because although it seems Ralph has been running for days, weeks, years without any sustenance to speak of, we can see that he indeed is descending. You see, we have a point of reference here. There is a rough line (that Mr. Ford's fevered head doesn't notice) in the wall next to Mr. Ford's head that has been slightly above his head until a few days ago. Now the line that has been our point of reference is easily one inch above his head as he still makes his way down that lonely stretch.

1956:

We inexplicably find ourselves exactly forty years later to the day and find our friend, Ralph Ford, still maintaining his routine. The world went to war again, but of course Mr. Ford doesn't know that. He only knows what we have already seen. Apparently. We observers notice no change in anything we have observed all those years ago except that line that has been his only companion (besides us) showing that he is about a foot closer to reaching the destination that only he knows. That and it appears he isn't moving quite so quickly.

So, having those clues we can deduce that Mr. Ford will reach his destination in roughly 150 years. It means that that is the point that we will cease to see him and that he has gotten to his destination based on his height and accounting for the difference in speed. And since it appears he has been fine for at least these past forty years, without further ado, let's fast-forward to the year...

2106:

We now only see Mr. Ford's head toppling perfectly down the middle of the staircase. Onward and downward. A non-bloody thing rolling end-over-end, still pausing every 15 minutes to proclaim that he is on his way.

22??:

The scalp drifted to the ash-covered ground like a leaf on a blustery, early-winter day. Ashes from millions of species blow through the air and gave the final touch to the bleak, wintry landscape. The lowly janklordemon picked it up and sniffed it with his broad nose. He glanced up at the cyan-colored sky, looking for any more. He saw none. With a marrow-curdling scream, he began to run back toward the Fortress of Bio-Structural Study that loomed to dizzying heights on the horizon.

The higher-ups would not be pleased that their calculations were off again. It probably had something to do with the strange shape of a human head hitting The Spiral's many stairs at such odd times. Or maybe it was the way their bodies slowed down so much as their limbs and extremities were ground away over the years. Either way, it was ingenious how the Arch-Dukes increased the suffering by making them come down here, via the intricate design of The Spiral, themselves.

All this mattered little to the dim-witted janklordemon as he made his way across the infinite and lonely expanse. The reward would be great. It had to be.

Or his name wasn't "Ralph Ford".