Let It Surge
After sitting there for a minute, trying to outlast the taunts from the walls that suddenly grew mouths, he found the annoyance not to dull, bringing him to sit up again.
…It's not real. Of course. Walls don't talk and laugh! Obviously! He told himself.
With that in mind, he drew in a large breath of air into his lungs before slapping his own cheeks in an attempt to correct his diluted perception.
"Gya-ha-ha!"
"Foolish, boy! Foolish, boy!"
–It did not help; in fact, the taunts from the walls only seemed to grow worse as a result of his failure to drag himself out of these delusions.
Merely accepting the fact that what surrounded him with belittling laughter were illusions forged of whatever substance he had touched didn't much help to dwindle how incredibly gnawing it was.
Worse, it only amplified as he crawled through the narrow, claustrophobic corridor, forced to continue touching the mysterious substance.
Just keep going, he told himself, push past it.