This Was A Bad Idea

chapter 28 - trial by fire

I stare out beyond the doorway we came through, at Sam curled up near the far wall. An uneasy silence settles upon us like a dirt encrusted blanket. Like the severity of the situation has finally emerged like a bloodred sunrise.

The wisps of enthralled excitement we came down here with have completely dissipated. This isn't some fun adventure, the exploration of an abandoned place just for fun. Not musings of boredom to push past and hours to twist. This is desperation and fear and the sensation of invisible walls slowly closing in on us.

"Start looking around," Elliot announces. Fear sharpens his face, darkening the lines of his words. "Anything that could help us get out. Any doors with locks or interesting objects- literally anything." He bends down and cups one of the less burnt candles in his palm. We echo his action, our hands now curled around old wax and thin flames.

I step out of the room, the greasy surface of the candle grating against my palms. I glance over at the second doorway set into the far side of the wall.

Xen reaches it before me, practically throwing themself past the threshold. Inside is dark, no flames except for the ones in our hands.

My foot catches on something hard, my knees nearly buckling with the hollow thunk.

The bottom of my shoe slides off an upturned human skull. Empty sockets that once held eyes glare placidly up at me. A garish slice of mouth reveals broken teeth. The stench of mildew and decay hits me hard, like a punch. Like a crumbling forest laced with blood.

"Shit," I exclaim. I bring the candle down closer.

There's more bones. More people. Scattered across the damp ground, stained with age and shriveled remnants of flesh. There's bodies here. They're not child sized though- they belonged to adults. Nubs of bone poke through dried husks and garish expressions are carved on the faces that still remain. Time and the damp confines of the tunnel have aided in their deterioration, but I can make out scraps of charred fabric clinging to what's left. The color is faded but still visible if one's deliberately trying to look. A washed out red, once the rich color of crimson. There are more old candles in this room, but most of them had burnt a long time ago to the very last nubs of wax.

"Do you think they get stuck down here?" Xen exhales. Our faces are carved with twin grimaces. I feel my hands curl into fist, nails digging into my palms. Fear beads down my spine, spreading through my limbs.

"I don't know. Maybe. There's no shackles or anything, so they weren't confined to this room. It doesn't make sense why they would all die in one place."

I can't make out much detail through the dim light of our candles. But I see scorch marks on the walls, and old stains on the ground. The remaining chunks of skin are the color of overcooked steak.

They died by fire. They choked and burned until they were consumed by smoke. Then their skin broiled until it became a brittle husk. Time and decomposition took care of the rest.

"There's more weird symbols here," Xen observes. Their hand points to patches on the ground where faded paint marks cryptid shapes in random intervals. They look similar to the ones that were in the large circle surrounded by candles.

My body feels disturbingly light, like my limbs aren't attached to my torso. I stumble backwards, trying to keep down the bile that threatens to spill past my teeth. I can feel the air pressing against me, feel the last gasps of oxygen hanging like ash.

"Orion?" Xen exclaims, stumbling to reach me. Their arm lands on my shoulder. We stand in the dim twilight, the tangled mass of bones and rotten flesh flashing through my head over and over again. Suddenly, I feel the same way I did last summer. Small. Lost. When after a year of hell I'd finally reached my breaking point. When I couldn't stifle my sobs any longer. When the bad thoughts crested like a wave and dragged me down to unfathomable depths.