You grab a green-flamed torch from the wall before creeping cautiously down the left side of the hallway.

You peek through the bars of various cells as you pass them. You don't see much, at first: a bed frame in one cell, a full bed but with tattered, dirty sheets in another, an entirely empty cell, another with a huge leak in it... etc. You check a few of the doors, and they all seem to open with no issue; yours may have been the only one actually locked.

However, the fourth door on your right manages to grab your full attention. Waiting just past another huge crack in the ceiling where sludge continues to pour, beyond its bars--sitting against the back wall of the cell--is a dead body.

At least, you assume it's dead.

You hope they're dead, because something has happened to them and whatever the hell that is, you're not sure you're comfortable with the prospect of living through it. The person's face is so bloated up with... tumors? With bulbous growths that you can't even see a face anymore.

Embedded in their... chest, probably, wedged in between the folds of bloated tissue is a long knife. Its handle is wrapped in what vaguely (from this distance) resembles police tape.