Taking
inspiration this week from the photo prompt of Miranda Kate’s MidWeekFlash.
“Hello Darkness,
my old friend.” The opening line from “The Sound of Silence” did nothing to quell
her fears.
Maddie hated the
dark, and the way the shadows seeped into her soul. Shutting her eyes didn’t
help. She trailed her fingers along the wall, hoping to find her way out of the
caves. Her cell battery died an hour ago. No signal anyway. Thankfully, she had
a pack of matches in her bag from last night’s campfire. Every few feet, she struck
a match but with only a few left it was time to conserve.
It was supposed
to be a low-risk excursion. Overhead lights illuminated the intricate tunnels for
those wishing for a little adventure without too much roughing it. Until the
tremor hit, and left her in dark darker than dark. She held her hand in front
of her face, and saw nothing. Not even a pale outline.
A drip-drip-drip
echoed through her head, and each step choreographed in unison. To hell with her
friend Amy who stayed behind with a hangover. Maddie wanted to prove something,
that she possessed the courage to go alone.
“Great proof if
you’re dead!” The sound of her voice reverberated.
Shuffle-shuffle-shuffle.
Her foot hit something solid. She picked it up and tried again. Crunch, and
stuck. She tried to pull it, and her foot slipped inside the boot. Great. She
shifted her weight to her back foot, and caught her balance. She’d have to
waste another match to see what was impeding her.
But how to free
her foot and hold the match at the same time? She’d figure it out when it came
to that point. Her stomach churned before releasing a growl.
Flick. Nothing.
Flick. Nothing. “Dammit. Come on.” She’d worn down the flint on the box. Flick.
The red-orange
glow from the match created a halo of light that fought the darkness. Maddie
let out a deep breath. “Everything’s going to be all right.”
She bent,
bringing the light closer to her foot. Something shiny and white reflected, and
she attempted to process the horror.
Skulls. Stacks
and stacks of skulls. Like from fucking dead people. Stripped to the bone –
hollowed eyes gaped at her, screaming for help.
Help that never
came.
Her foot had
sunk through a crevice between a few chins and she didn’t want to think what
else. Panic flared and she yelled, the echoes ringing in her ears and she
yanked with all her might. Nothing. She hadn’t passed the gruesome sculpture on
the way in. Where was she?
The flame
reached the end of the wood, singeing her fingertips. She dropped it. Now, she’d
have to reach into the remains to free herself.
Maybe it was
better not to see this part. She fumbled with the slick surfaces, doing her
best to ignore every crack and creak.
Who had stacked these?
Was that person or beast coming back?
A sharp edge
sliced the tender pad of her index finger, and she kicked with her free boot
and hollered, until something slid and she tumbled backward. Her elbow and palm
scraped against the rock floor, and she scrambled away from the skulls until
her shoulder hit a wall.
Chest heaving,
she worked to control the increasing dread. Tears flowed over her cheeks and
she wiped at them, feeling more wetness. Fuck! She pressed her bleeding finger
against the side of her jeans.
A spark charged
through the air, like static electricity and then light flooded to her left.
“Thank God.”
She pushed
against the wall to a stand. Somehow, she’d worked her way into a small chamber
off the main tunnel system. A chamber of the dead.
No reason to
wait for answers! An unseen force pushed her.
“Go!”
Fresh air
greeted her as she ran toward the front of the caverns. Waning sunlight greeted
her. Enough bravery for a lifetime. Hopefully, enough to get through the night.
View the original photo inspiration on MidWeekFlash.
