SHADOW

Change

Sha opened her eyes, and darkness embraced her. Panic tightened its grip on her heart and gut, her throat constricted by the thick, humid air. She drew in a gulp of air, tasting its rancid flavor on her tongue. Cold sweat formed beads on her brow as she patted the bare stone around her. A dull ache reverberated through her ribs, and her back felt raw, as if she had been struck by a bat or a broom. She gasped, on the verge of screaming, but then abruptly stopped, her mouth hanging open foolishly like a fish, suppressing the shameful noise echoing within her gut. To scream now was foolish; escaping from the dreadful woman only to be devoured by her wretched dog was not the destiny she sought. "No, I will survive," Sha thought resolutely, and commenced patting the surrounding wall, her fingers searching for a latch, a crevice—anything to push against the unyielding stone. She clung to the belief that every secret door must have two ways, it was only logical.

An attempt to stand proved futile, her head colliding painfully with the low stone ceiling. She bit her tongue slightly, pain reverberating from her skull to her neck and spine. Sha cursed her misfortune. Suddenly, a movement nearby, something small and furry near her foot, caught her attention. The memory of the rat between the jaws of the enormous dog silenced her urge to scream. Instead, she clicked her tongue, urging the rat away, and it scurried off. A thought crossed her mind—would prolonged confinement in this chamber eventually force her to resort to eating rats due to her inability to escape?

A rattling noise emanated from her pocket, reminding her of the matches. The matches could bring firelight. "How foolish I am," Sha muttered to herself as she retrieved the cardboard box from the bottom of her oversized pocket. She attempted to ignite several matches, each sparking briefly before fizzling out. Frustration nearly brought her to tears by the fourth attempt. However, a match finally caught, the flame staring back at her like the greatest marvel she had ever beheld. Collecting the other discarded matches, she lit them one by one.

Proceeding with caution this time, she tried to stand again, her gaze landing on sharp glass shards from the fallen lantern that littered the floor. Her grin returned as she lit the candle, a glimmer of luck remaining on her side. "And now?" Sha wondered aloud, surveying the chamber. At the room's center lay an exquisite black marble tomb adorned with beautifully carved stone roses. Intrigued, she approached it, tracing her finger along the intricate patterns. The lid displayed no statue's likeness; instead, thorny vines and roses crept around the ebony surface. A layer of dust coated the once-golden engravings, prompting Sha to blow upon them—only to regret it instantly as a cloud of dust engulfed her eyes, filling the chamber and her mouth. The thickness of it on her tongue compelled her to wipe it against the sleeve of her bathrobe.

"'Here sleeps darkness. May it rest in peace so we could live in peace,'" Sha recited the inscription aloud. Her gaze shifted to the opposite wall, where she noticed an urn placed within a small alcove.

"I don't have much time—the air in this chamber will deplete soon, and I'm just idling," Sha realized. She redirected her focus toward the task of locating a means to open the secret door from which she had fallen. She ran her fingers over every patch of stone, each engraving, growing more desperate and panicked with each fruitless attempt. She then turned her attention to the nearest walls, scanning for a crevice or handle. Could it be that this chamber had only one entrance and exit? The logic of a tomb designed for the departed to remain undisturbed gnawed at her.

An endeavor to push open the tomb's lid yielded no success—the stone was too heavy. She managed to crack it slightly, sweat droplets falling onto the dusty, polished marble. The air grew denser, the candle shorter. In a moment of despair, Sha screamed, the sound raw, her nails broken. Seizing the beautiful urn, she hurled it against the wall, releasing more dust and shards to scatter across the floor. Amid the thick gray dust lay a vial, glimmering ominously in the dim light. She approached it, her fingers tracing its contours. The same style of writing as on the urn caught her eye, embossed in fading golden letters: "Use only if death is the only path ahead." She gulped at the portentous message. 

"Could this be poison?" Sha wondered. "Damn it all! It is better to die of poison then starve or suffocate in a closed tomb!" she shouted, her frustration culminating as she ingested the enigmatic liquid. To her surprise, nothing occurred. Sha sighed deeply.

 "Perhaps after a gazillion years, even poison loses its potency," she mused. Lying down on the cool floor, she surrendered herself to the pleasant, numbing sensation enveloping her. Her stomach growled loudly, and she closed her eyes, conjuring detailed images of sinking her teeth into a succulent apple pie, or at the very least, a pretzel.

 "Universe, grant me something to eat," she murmured softly.