Personal Inferno

Screams permeated the cavern through which he moved; some of the voices sounded familiar.
The air, if you could call it that, was dank with the smell of rotting flesh; he could taste the coppery blood that seemed suspended about him.
'This is a strange dream, to say the least,' he thought to himself, as the cacophony ebbed and flowed like a tide of despair.
Blistering needles of pain seared his skin as he moved inexorably further along this infernal path.
Mortally frightened, he tried to resist, but unseen forces urged him forward, like the wretched, clawed hands of doom.