plane. At once I lost all of the instruments, excepting the actual
control of the plane in manual, meaning that the radar and all the
guidance systems were crippled, and I could see nothing. Not knowing
what to do, and not being able to radio for help, I pulled down and
slowed until I was just barely remaining airborne, and began looking for
an island to land on.

Once below 200 feet, the clouds gave way and I saw an island. I aimed
for it and slowed more, preparing to land on it. I did, though just
barely, for it was extremely small, being one of those inconsistent
volcanic islands. Getting out of the plane, I was greeted by a strong
blast of wind that was dripping water from its cold grip, and I was
instantly chilled to the bone. There was nothing on the island at all,
except for the hole in its center, from which, no doubt, came the lava
that had formed it. It was on a slightly elevated hill, and looked as if
it had not erupted for many thousands of years. With nothing to do at
that moment except to get an idea of the island that I had landed on, I
walked over to it and knelt down beside it, peering blankly into its
depths. It seemed to be absolutely devoid of light, and, as often
happens, its darkness was mysterious to me, for I wondered what lay
hidden in it, and my curiosity got the better of my common sense. I
leaned slowly forward. Then, as I did so, I heard a loud and terrible
voice, personified in the crashing of the waves and the moaning of the
wind, and it said in a monotonous and unending refrain, "Enter." Nothing
more nor less than the continual repetition of that word. This alarmed
me, and as I did not want to do that, I began to stand upright and back
away from it, to return to my plane. But as I raised my knee from the
ground in order to stand, my other knee slipped under the increased
pressure, and in the ensuing instability, I completely lost my balance
and fell forward into the hole.