Thank god, Wanda thought, or Tony. It was close enough, as far as she was concerned. She'd risen upwards when the door opened to watch the blood draining away and to keep out of its current, still unsure how it had even happened, just that Tony had done it and they had survived. "We're alive," she said aloud and then gave a breathless laugh that ended in a sob. She descended again to land with a splash and pressed her fingers against her eyes, sucking in a deep breath. They weren't out yet, she had to keep it together if she wanted to escape this place and end that terrible drumming in her head.
With a glance over her shoulder at Iron Man she sloshed towards the opening in the wall and ducked through into more darkness, what was left of the fiery oil swept away down the corridor she stepped into. She held up a glowing hand to survey the blood slick stone floor, the walls with torches set into recesses on either side of the entry. These she lit and from their light she saw two more further down so she went and lit those two and carried this on all the way along the hallway, waiting for the next horror to leap out of the shadows. Distantly she wondered what had happened to all that blood, where it had gone, and the question was answered when the floor abruptly stopped and plunged into a dark chasm. Plucking one of the torches from the wall (and hoping that didn't trigger something) she held the fire high, its light bouncing across the gap in the floor to reveal a staircase upwards. The crevice wasn't wide but it looked deep and Wanda didn't care to know just how far down it went.
Crossing the abyss was easy, which did little to ease her mind, and the trek up the stairs was long but uninterrupted. The further up they got the harder it was to focus; the pounding in her mind was louder and more painful and she wanted to scream and scream just to drown it out. Anything to make it stop. Halfway up she collapsed and it took an effort to haul herself to her knees. "We're close," she croaked. "It's somewhere close."