Anna and Ariel, Gingers to the Death
Any sense of time had been lost to them, the longer they spent trapped. Every clock had arms pointed to different numbers, nothing was consistent, all windows and exits sealed shut to smother any hope of escape. They had no choice but to wait it out, but there was no idle sitting and peaceful state of mind while they waited for the time the Sleepy Hollow would finally burst open those doors so they could finally leave.
Hidden doors, hidden corridors. Smell of decay so prominent in the air that Ariel finally had gotten used to it. It still felt icy cold, and they'd been able to salvage some blankets from the rooms to carry with them - but whatever spirits that lingered in the dark made sure they wouldn't have them for long, and would tear it all away and dragged it to whatever depth of hell this place hid. Eventually the flashlight's batteries died, leaving them only with candles and the smallest flickering flames, but any gust of wind or upset ghost would snuff it out after awhile.
Ariel didn't know what floor they were on anymore, what dark crevice of this damn place they were stranded in. But she did know she was exhausted, the chill in her bones making limbs numb, and while they should probably stop and find their way back to the restaurant to grab something for food, her appetite had been nonexistent. "We've been run out of every normal looking area," she muttered sourly, eyes squinting angrily through the dim hall, lit with fired lanterns. "When do you think this place is going to let us get some sleep?"