The Cave

"Everyone knows monsters don't exist."

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The mist was particularly heavy the day I first heard of the creatures beneath the cliffs. It was the type of mist that billowed up from the sea and puddled in the cove, its wispy white fingers stretching up the jagged rocks towards the sky. And it was on these cold, misty days that Mum would pull out the wool blanket and tell me one of her stories. I remember legends of fairy kings and royal weddings, tales of mermaids and dragons. The details have long escaped my memory, but one thing about them lingers in my mind- the happy ending. The story always ended with "and they all lived happily ever after." Until this one.

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I shivered, pulling my scarf tighter around my neck. The mist was thick today, almost covering the beaches below. The wind, too, was whipping across the cliff tops, trying to drag me with it on its wild skyward journey. My steps quickened; I had no desire to linger outside on such a melancholy day. I shoved my hands in my pockets and hurried along the path, almost running. Suddenly, I was yanked backward by the gale, my scarf tugging fiercely against my throat. Coughing, I loosened its death grip on me, letting it hang loosely against my shoulders. A wild gust swept along the cliff top, pulling the scarf from my collar. It soared across the windswept sky, evading my grasping fingers.

"Hey!" I gasped, scrambling after it. Its yellow tail flickered on the rocks for a moment before it disappeared. I peered over the edge, trying to catch of a glimpse of it, but the mist covered almost everything. Shivering again, missing the scarf's familiar warmth, I jogged along the cliff's edge.

"It's here somewhere...." I muttered, scanning the rocks for a break where the old path began. I almost stumbled past it, blinded by the white fog. The path looked treacherous, but I had to get the scarf back. I couldn't let Mum's last gift disappear forever. She'd promised me, with her last, disease-ridden breath, that it would protect me. I had to get it back.

Pebbles clattered down the path as I inched towards the bottom. The wind whistled in my ears, making a hollow sort of melody. I stopped and listened. It wasn't just the wind.

Music. I could hear music.

A tremor passed through my body that had nothing to do with the cold. The melody was drifting up from one of the caves, echoing off the rocks. It reverberated in my skull, with the haunting sound of something long forgotten. My feet stalled beneath me and I nearly fell, grazing my palm on one of the sharp, ebony-colored rocks.

The sound was both beautiful and eerie. It hung in the air like a feather, twisting and curling in the wind. The melody wove through my thoughts, ensnaring them in its soft grasp, the scarf soon driven from my mind. Cradling my bruised hand, I teetered down the slope until my rain boots sank into the gritty, gray sand. The fog was even thicker on the beach, and it covered my eyes like a silky white blindfold. I followed the noise, using the wet rocks of the cliff to guide me. My hand soon ran off the wall, grasping only at open air. I shuffled forward and the fog dissipated, leaving me in darkness.

The cave was pitch black. Something was dripping further on into the tunnel, filling the space with its echoing plip-plop, plip-plop. I shuffled forward, edging closer to the source of the melody. My foot knocked against something, sending it skittering across the floor. The music stopped abruptly, a hush falling upon the cave like a heavy woolen blanket. I froze, trying not to breathe. To my left, a shadow slithered across the rocks. I stumbled backwards and slipped to the lichen-covered floor. Pressed against the wall, I curled my knees to my chest.

The sound of ragged breathing filled my ears- only, it wasn't mine. I squeezed my eyes shut and fumbled through my jacket, searching for my phone. My fingers wrapped around something hard and I whipped it out, turning on the flashlight and shining it into the blackness. The creature snarled and I caught a glimpse of something fleeing to the back of the cave. My breath hitched in my heaving chest as I sprinted out of the cave into the mist.