The Horror In Time

Arthur's Letter - Part 2

I landed face first on what felt to me like dirt. Then rose quickly at the thought of the shadow coming down after me. I held my arms out to try and reach for a wall and found purchase on a dirt wall to my right. The absolute darkness disoriented me. The only directions I was sure of was up and down, but only because I was standing. Even then, the longer I lingered in the darkness the more my perception of up and down started to fade. At the tip of my fingers I felt a vertical slice of damp soil and an occasional protruding root as I walked along it. I sidled along the left wall for a few minutes before I realized the trap door did not lead to a room, but a long earthly corridor. As I kept walking, my sensen began to gain perception of more than just the dirt along my fingers and the sound of my footsteps. I began to feel a subtle draft coming from behind me. Faint long tones could be heard at a distance before me at the same time that my eyes began to register flickering orange light reflecting on the newly visible dirt corridor walls. I began to pick up the pace now that I was fully reoriented. The flickering orange light grew slightly brighter as I neared the end of the corridor. The long tones revealed themselves to be vocal in nature. A chant of some sort. I paused and crouched as I reached the end of the corridor. From my position, I hid behind the right side corridor wall and peeked my head out to see where the corridor had led me.

Eight figures in dark robes stood in a half circle. Their chants were directed at a wooden totem pole in front of them, but I could not identify any distinguishing features by the lighting provided by the orange flame light. The light came from four fires which sat on what appeared to be four cauldrons that formed a square around the chanting hooded figures. I looked all around to try and figure out which way to go next. Heading back was not an option, so I figured I'd try to find egress on the other side of the room.

I started to inch along the right wall, careful not to detract the hooded figures from the totem pole. The room seemed to go from wide to narrow the closer I got to the center. This hindered my ability to stealth along the wall, but the hooded figures seemed to be completely unaware of my presence. The shortening of distance between me and the totem allowed me to better see just what the carving was. Even then, the only part of it I could conceptualize was the head. It had the appearance of an animal skull with large branching antlers.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I paused to examine it a little while longer. The flickering strokes of flame confirmed my initial suspicion. The antlers were actual antlers which sat on top of the totem. I felt my gaze fixed on the totem as if something held my head in place, unable to redirect my attention at will.

I tried to look away, but I had no control over my movement. A faint sense of panic began to creep in from the deepest recesses of my will. I stared at the totem for what could have been anywhere between thirty seconds to six hours. Suddenly, from my left peripheral, I noticed that the hooded figures began to shift position. My heartbeat began to race. Their chanting remained unchanged, but I watched as they surrounded me. Dread began to set in as my effort to run away was met with futility. Not one single muscle moved. my eyes still fixed on the totem. I watched through my peripherals as they marched in a straight line around my left side then my right. Despite no verbal cues, the hooded figures moved in synchronicity as they lifted and began to move me back in my frozen state to where they originally stood at the center of the room in front of the totem. I knew I was being carried, but I felt no hands ever holding me. My sense of tact was completely gone. Every second stretched into an eternity in which I  could do nothing more but dread my existence. By the time I was placed down I felt on the verge of lunacy. How is this happening? Why is this happening? Maybe I truly was going crazy, I thought. I did just run from a shadow, after all. My eyes still fixed on the totem, I saw now that the center mass of the figure stood on eight pillars. In my visual inspection of the totem, I lost track of the eight hooded figures. It was impossible to tell if they had left the room, but I felt complete isolation.