Of Cookies And Terrible Beasts.

the light at the end of the tunnel is your dreams set aflame

It was dark and musty and the air was so humid I could almost feel my hair puff up like some kind of threatened lizard. I was silently contemplating to just turn around and leave, until I realised that it wasn't even an option.

After I entered the cave, there was nothing but moist stone walls for a while, and I thought that maybe I was in the wrong place after all. That wasn't the case however, for I found a tiny red door at what seemed like the end. It's paint was peeling and the handle looked rusty and ready to give away at a moments notice.

My heart was beating in my throat and my fight-or-flight instinct was causing my breathing pattern to act like I just ran a marathon in half an hour.

The door was so small I had to get to my knees and crawl to get through the damned thing. I wasn't completely sure what I was expecting, but this wasn't it. It was just more cave, a lot narrower this time too, and I could barely fit through. I half wished I hadn't eaten that cookie, then maybe this would be a little easier.

I had been crawling like this for what felt like days, but was probably only ten minutes. My hand were bleeding at this point, tiny red streaks of blood decorating the floor. I was painfully awair of the probability of me getting stuck in this narrow tunnel. If that happened, the chance of my demise would increase tenfold.

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I never had much trouble with narrow spaces, and I could't say I had claustrophobia without lying, but I was pretty sure I was developing it right this moment. Room to turn around was a luxury this place couldn't afford, so there was no way for me to go but forward.

Things didn't really get much better as time went on either. The light that guided me from behind was starting to fade. The adrenaline in my body mimicking a formula-one race made it difficult for me to be patient and take this step by step. It was ironic really, that after all my hard work I was crawling away from the light at the end of the tunnel, opting to torture myself to discover something I was getting less and less sure I even wanted to find on the other end of it. The dark end. But then again, turning back wasn't even an option anymore.

Thirst was sinking its vicious claws in my throat as I pushed my backpack in front of me again, and shuffled forward a little. My intention to repeat this endless cycle of pushing and following, was disrupted. My bag would not move. It was either stuck or-

If I had any water left in me I would be crying of joy right about now. The thing that was blocking my weathered ranger pack was not the walls of this seemingly never ending cave, oh no, thank the gods, it was another door. It was identical to the first door at the beginning of this hellhole and when I reached my arm out, around my bag to the handle, I could feel the rusting iron of the doorhandle.

I didn't think I was ever this happy to be standing upright and having the space to move my arms and legs more than just a few inches. Sure, it was still pitch-black in here, and the air was still damp enough to singlehandedly stop all forest fires, but things were looking up.

After I practically ripped my backpack in half to find a waterbottle, I finally took the time to look around and assess my whereabouts.

You have three guesses.

Bingo! You're right! A cave. I was in a cave. The ceiling was higher than my waist now, which I was silently thanking all that was sacred for, and it was still just a path leading in the same direction as before, just slightly bending to the left.

There was one thing that peaked my interest though.

There was an unlit torch hanging on the wall.

And no, no, I don't need some hooligan to trow a dictionary at my head. I know perfect well what a torch is. It's just, how on earth did it get here? Now that I think about it, how did those wreched doors get here as well?

Suddenly, everything felt off. The air just felt wrong. The darkness around me swirled and twirled, like it had a mind of its own. Like it was alive. The hairs on in my neck stood upright and it felt like the silence I only just got aware of was splintering my skull and crushing my brain. The only sound in this place was my own breathing that got more ragged and forced as time went on.

I wanted to get out. I needed to get out. I needed fresh air in my lungs and the hot sun on my face and the cold rain on my skin and the refreshing wind in my hair. I needed the outside.

But I was absolutely NOT going to go back through that cursed little red door that led to what I was sure my nightmares were going to be about and spend another lifetime and a half crawling in a tunnel that was not made to be used by anything lager than a rat.

I took a deep breath and filled my greedy lungs with a mouthful of that musty air that made me want to cough it all out again. Just a little longer for eternal glory. Just a little longer and every minute in this place -I wouldn't be surprised if a copy of it was in the seventh ring of hell- was worth it and I would be carried on their shoulders as their hero. That dream to be acknowledged was so close yet just out of my reach, slipping through my fingers like sand in an hourglass.

I racked through my backpack and ultimately found a lighter. Taking the torch off the wall and setting it aflame, beautifully detailed shadows began to dance an unknown pattern on the rough walls of this godforsaken place and I spoke words of courage to myself. I wasn't about to give up now.

Oh wittle beast of eternal damnation, come out, come out, where ever you are~

Get ready. I'm here for you and I'm not turning back.