Black Ink on the Wall

My joints clicked. One, two... I actually moved my arm! Wait, where am I? Directly above me, towering dark lines formed jagged letters—M-i-s-s-i-n-g. My pulse spiked. Was this an unstable structure or a warning perimeter? I calculated my escape route, planted my feet firmly, and cautiously raised one curved hand to touch the nearest black line trailing down beside me. It was dry ink, flat against the backdrop, not a falling steel girder. I let out a breath, keeping my stance balanced and watchful.