Buried

When I awoke, my sight was immediately met with darkness. I repeatedly blinked my eyes, and as my vision began to clear, I could perceive a pale yellow-orange blur that swayed alone in the shadows. Gradually, my vision had returned to normal, and I found myself staring up at a dilapidated ceiling. My body was severely stiff and ached in agony. I was also cold —no, I was freezing , rather — and forced myself to sit up with a struggled groan. I then raised my arms over my head, pulled them up into a stretch, and released a pleasant sigh as my spine cracked back into place with a loud snap. When I had felt relieved, I stood up and began to gaze upon the room with curiosity.
The room was dimly lit, and I could only decipher a few of its features. Ornate wooden chairs painted with dust were scattered around the room, both toppled over and straightened. Loose pieces of crumpled paper littered the jumbled stone floor. The dull walls were conquered by years worth of cobwebs, and were sprinkled with a thick blanket of niter. A titled painting, so ancient that some of the paint had begun to peel back from the canvas, of a fearsome raven hung solitary on one of the walls.
I allowed the setting of the room soak into me, trying to recall how I had gotten here in the first place. My mind was clueless, and I continued to stare dumbfoundedly at the raven. I shook my head, snapping back into reality. My gaze shifted over to the right of the painting, where the room's only source of light hung: a small flambeaux. Without noticing it, my feet took control, and I found myself marching toward the flambeaux. I unlatched it from the wall and turned around, the flames of the flambeaux dancing in return. To my side, I spotted a door, in which I had mentally prayed that it was unlocked.
Before I vacated the room, I inspected it once more, in hope that I would find something that could assist me in my escape from, well, wherever I am.
Unfortunately, I hadn't found anything that could be of any succor, but I indeed had found something that had engrossed me. As I searched the room, something lustrous had caught my eye. I crouched down, bringing the flambeaux down with me, to observe. A small, yet exquisite wooden plaque with a silver metal plating was hidden underneath a chair. I pulled the chair away, and plucked the plaque up from the ground. From a closer view I could see that in the plating, a name and two dates were embedded.
Vivien L. Perkins 1850-1870
A dose of familiarity flooded throughout me. Vivien. I couldn't quite recall it, but I somehow knew that I have heard that name before.
Vivien. . . Perkins. . . Vivien Perkins. . .
Suddenly, the air around me became heavy. I could feel my throat closing in and my lungs begged for mercy. My heart began to fail. The nitre, I thought. Instantly abandoning the plaque and the familiarity of the name with it, I got up and sprinted toward the door. I turned the rusty knob, swung the door open, and fled from the room through a tunnel before the nitre smothered me.
At first the tunnel was exceedingly narrow, but as I went on, the tunnel began to transform. Not only had the walls began to shift apart, but instead of being built by stone, the walls were now constructed of bones. Human bones. It wasn't until then when I came to realization that I was traveling through an underground labyrinth. Catacombs , I thought. The collection of bones went on for what seemed like a lifetime.
The tunnel was silent, except for the noisy thumps of my footsteps, and the occasional crackle from the flambeaux. As I continued to wander down the tunnel, it seemed as if the eyeless sockets of the skulls were watching me as I went past them. An eerie feeling caressed my back, and I felt icy chills run down my arms and legs. I ventured on, and a new fear unexpectedly crossed through my thoughts. I began to wonder if someone or something really was watching me, hiding in the shadows of the tunnel, like a vulture stalking its prey.
As if on cue, I heard a peculiar sound echo down the tunnel, and I froze.
I dared to turn around as the sound approached closer within every second. Emerging from the shadows, a slender figure with long arms and deformed fingers floated towards me. It's body was horribly putrescent, with maggots crawling in and out, feasting on the rotted flesh. The lower lip was entirely torn off, revealing a crooked row of chipped, browned teeth and bloody gums. It's eyes resembled milky white orbs that faintly glowed in the dark tunnel. Tuffs of torn and tangled ghostly white hair hung loose around its head. Around its neck, a series of rusty chains hung down, so far down that they brushed against the ground, which produced the ear-splitting sound.
I attempted to turn and run, but I failed. My feet were cemented into the ground. My legs turned into jelly, goosebumps swam across my arms. Frost licked my spine, causing the hairs to rise on the back of my neck. I was hyperventilating and my heart was beating at a rhythmic pace, like a hammer pounding against a nail. My body was trembling like an earthquake. A scream formed in my throat, but I choked on shock and fear instead. It was coming closer, it's arm now stretched out in attempt to grab me.
A boost of adrenaline filled my veins, and I turned and hurtled down the tunnel without looking back. It wasn't long before I came across a different tunnel, which was pitch-black compared to the tunnel I was currently in. Without hesitation, I made a sharp turn into the tunnel, hoping that I would fool the infernal figure that chased after me.
The flames of the flambeaux instantly casted it's light upon the tunnel as soon as I entered it. Slowing my pace to calm my breath, I quickly scanned the tunnel. The air was much thicker, possibly because this tunnel was much narrower than the previous tunnel. The tunnel was so narrow that I had to squeeze my shoulders in to avoid touching the walls, which were still constructed by bones. I thanked God that the tunnel was short, and I could detect a different light glowing at the other end. I began to carefully saunter through the tunnel.
I had only traveled halfway through the tunnel when something powerful and clammy wrapped around my ankle. I felt myself being forcefully yanked back. Slowly, I looked down at my feet and shrieked. A skeletal hand, stained a pale yellow from decades of being buried in dirt, was pulling me back toward the entrance of the tunnel. At the same time that I had managed to yank my foot away from it's firm grip, several more skinless arms stretched out from the walls. Their greasy hands grabbed my feet, legs, and shoulders, and began to slowly pull me back to the entrance of the tunnel. I screamed, I growled, I even swore as I clawed and slapped at the hand latched onto me. Despite me actions, the hands never lost their sturdy grips.
Turn back. . .
A whisper caught my ears, and I suddenly became puzzled. It was as if one of the bones were trying to inform me of something significant. I couldn't quite tell.
Turn back. . . turn back. . .
Frowning, I ignored the infuriating whisper, and I continued to yank and pull myself from their hold. My eyes were confidently locked on the faint glow at the end of the tunnel.
Almost there. . . just a few more steps. . .
A familiar noise pierced through my ears, and I glanced over my shoulder. The sinister-looking spirit was now floating swiftly down the tunnel. Both of its arms were outstretched and the chains scraped against the bones. The arms remained their strong grips on me, and began to pull me toward the spirit.
"No," I screeched.
"RELEASE ME!" Anger seethed inside of me, and I felt like a volcano that was about to erupt. Anger was molded into strength, and with one final pull, I had escaped from the web of skeletal hands. I then dashed down the tunnel, towards to the light.
When I reached the end of the tunnel, I could see a corner that reflected the bizarre light. Without slowing down, I briskly turned the corner. The light was no longer a faint flow, but a bright ray of pure light. I could see a new tunnel lying ahead of me. I ran towards it, and I was relieved that the tunnel was not only much wider, but other than my flambeaux lighting it, it was already pre-lit. However, my relief was washed away when I began to notice that some of the tunnels features were abnormal.
Unlike the other tunnels, this tunnel was much more sanitized and the bones were neatly organized within the wall. The light was produced by tiny round bulbs that hung from a thin wire on the wall. What on Earth are these, I thought as I continued to stare at the exotic bulbs, their light dangerously alluring. Viciously shaking my head, I analyzed the tunnel once more and a small sign caught my attention. I peered at it, and saw that the sign had and arrow that pointed to a stairwell. The word "Exit" was engraved in it.
My heart leaped with triumph. I've done it! I have found the key to my victory, and was about to unlock the door to my freedom. I gleefully pranced towards the exit, already smelling the saccharine crisp of fresh air.
Just as I reached out to touch the railing of the stairwell, something blocked my way. The force shoved my body back, and I stood, dumbfounded, staring at the exit. I laughed, but it was humorless. I tried again, stretching my arm out toward the railing. Maybe I was a bit too excited and tripped over the hem of my dress. Yes — yes, that's what happened. Just a silly little misstep. My hand laid flat against something just as I was about to touch the railing. It was as if an invisible wall separated the catacombs and I from the exit.
Panic engulfed me. Was this a mirage? Am I completely losing my mind and seeing things? I once again slapped my hand against the exit, only for it to fall flat again. Dread and confusion deluged my system. My vision became dark and fuzzy. I felt the teasing sensation of fainting.
Shadows were casted down the stairwell, accompanied by loud footsteps. I frantically looked around for a close hiding spot. A dark isolated corner was located only a few steps away. I hurried across the tunnel, and hid within the corner,certain that the it would conceal me completely. From my hiding space, I could see a group of thee walk down the stairwell.
Two of them were men, one a few inches shorter than the other, and the third, a woman. They wore uncanny clothing, and the woman held an odd rectangular device in her hands. Then, the most unexplainable thing had happened. Without difficulty, the group walked right through the exit. My eyebrows scrunched in bewilderment. But how could that even be possible, I thought. I watched them as the traveled down the tunnel.
They stopped in front of my hiding spot and stood in admiration of the neatly arranged bones that made up the wall. The woman lifted up the stange dievie and pointed it towards the wall. A blinding flash of light twinkeed on the wall for a mere second, and then vanished. I suddenly felt the audacity to speak to them. I demanded to receive answers, and to find out if there was another way out. Hesitant, I left the comforting shield of the corner, and dawdled behind the woman. Her back was facing me, but I cleared my throat in order to gain her attention.
"Excuse me, ma'am," I said. She did not turn around. Instead, she continued to point her device at the wall, the light once again briefly splattering against it. I spoke again, a little louder this time.
"Excuse me, ma'am? Would you mind informing me of where —" My voice was replaced with a gasp. The woman had indeed turned around, but she walked right through me instead of addressing me. She hadn't heard me, nor did she see me. It was as if I were a supernatural being, invisible to the world. My jaw hanging, I continued to watch her, and saw her shiver. She looked back at the very spot where I stood. Her companions were already traveling deeper down into the tunnel, but stopped and turned. They saw her gently rub her arms to calm the spread of goosebumps. They then looked at each other with a curious glint in their eyes.
"You're looking pretty worked up there, Jen. Everything alright?" One of the short men, I believe the shorter one, had asked. The woman, or Jen, I suppose, gazed at her companions with eyes full of alarm.
"I think I felt something. . . I was warm at first, but when I went to follow your guys, I felt like I passed through something. Something cold. That tourist guide wasn't joking. Maybe this place really is haunted. I don't know about this, guys. Maybe we should go." Her companions looked at each other, and burst into peels of laughter. Their faces began to change into different shades of red as they fought for breath. Tears streamed down their faces.
" Ohhhh! Look out y'all Jen's startin' to see ghosts! Bhahahaha!" The taller man almost died of laughter from his little jest. The shorter man joined him, and together they continued their vigorous laughter as they wandered down a different tunnel. Jen, whose face was scratched with vexation, growled and stomped off after them.
"You two idiots know damn well that I don't believe in any of that made up crap!" Their laughter and footsteps echoed down the tunnel. Eventually, the echos subsided, and I was left alone in silence. Still petrified at the fact that Jen had walked through me, I stared at the wall. At all of the bones. So many bones. . .
As if the bones had unlocked the door to my past, I now understood why Jen hadn't heard or saw me. Why I couldn't leave the catacombs. I remembered the cause of my death. The disease. . .yes, it was that! It had quickly traveled throughout the country, claiming the lives of thousands. The government had the catacombs built because all of the graveyards were overflowing with corpses. The disease had taken my friends away. . . my family. . . and finally, it took me.
A sound of chains interrupted my thoughts and I whipped my attention over my shoulder. My heart began to pound faster. The spirit was there, but it peacefully levitated in front of me. It's arms weren't outstretched in attempt to grab me. It just stared at me, as if it was waiting patiently for me to do or say something. I returned the favor by staring daggers at it. Peering deep within it's glowing eyes, a faint red dot barely stood out. I grew impatient and felt lava flowing through my veins.
"Who are you?" Silence. My anger grew.
"What do you want?" It didn't move. It only looked at me with pity. If it really wanted to slaughter me , I thought, it would of done so by now. The spirit sighed, causing me to jump back.
"I am the Keeper." It's voice was quiet and mellow, like the wind on a tranquil summer evening.
"Come." The Keeper made a gesture for me to follow as it turned and floated back down the tunnel. I slowly followed behind the Keeper as we traveled back throughout the tunnels. We traveled back through the narrow tunnel were I had been attacked. The bones were now back into place, as if they hadn't moved at all. We went back through the tunnel when I first encountered the Keeper, which seemed like many hours ago. We reached the end of the tunnel and I saw the door, which led into the room where I woke up in. The Keeper nonchalantly waed it's hand over the door, and it opened with a loud squeak.
The room remained just how I had remembered it. Except for one thing. Hidden within the shadows of a dark, dusty corner layed a large wooden coffin, it's cap wide open. The Keeper ushered me closer to it, and I could see that the wood had began to gradually rot away. The once snow white satin lining inside was now stained a dark yellowish-brown from years of mold. The Keeper gently took the flambeaux out of my hand, and gestured toward the coffin.
"Rest," it whispered.
"You will not be disturbed here." I nodded, for I now understood that I belonged here. I stepped into the coffin, sat down, and laid back onto the torn yet silky lining. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked up at the Keeper. It's other hand was on the cap to the coffin, looking down at me, waiting until I was ready.
I nodded, and closed my eyes. The loud creak of the cap closing pierced through my ears. The glow from the flambeaux began to fade away.
Before the cap was fully secured onto the coffin, the very last thing that I ever heard was the Keeper's final farewell to me.
Rest in peace, Vivien Perkins.