Cursed Hearts | ATEEZ

040 TEARS OF GOLD

I had lost count of the steps as I slowly descended the spiraling staircase leading underground, squinting slightly in the evergrowing darkness as it deepened with every hesitant step of my feet, clinging to my legs and the very air I breathed as it invited the cold into my lungs.

The sound of stones and rubble underneath my feet as I finally made it to the bottom of the stairs seemed far-away and unreal as I felt my breath catch and claustrophobia slowly well up within me, closing off my throat as I tried to adjust my eyes to the dim light which offered me a somewhat clear space.

I carefully headed down the dirt pathway, suddenly feeling so very alone only to once again halt in my steps as I found myself in front of a large, imposing room marking the official entrance of the catacombs, forcing my eyes to meet the crude, black letters above the doorway rather than what lurked beyond it, reading the warning, 'Arrete! C'est ici l'empire de la morte'

"Stop. Beyond here lies the empire of death," I whispered, clenching my fists at my sides as I reluctantly lowered my gaze to the arched doorway and looked into the morbid scene it opened up into; a maze with walls made from femurs and bones in neat rows, stacked on top of each other.

I swallowed thickly, "Even the doorway thinks it's a bad idea so who the hell came up with the idea of sending us into a mass grave?" I mumbled, slowly taking a step backwards as I felt fear well up inside me, mixing with the claustrophobia from the low ceiling and the very sight of the narrow hallways beyond the door.

They had been people once, I thought to myself, taken-aback by the realization of the sheer number of bones it must have taken to build these catacombs, thousands, no, at least millions.

"I can't," I breathed, feeling my heartbeat hammering against my ribs despite already having calmed down from the run earlier. "I can't," I mouthed, feeling short of breath and lightheaded only to flinch as I moved out of the way the moment a shadow passed me and flickered into the darkness beyond the door where it disappeared.

I straightened myself a little, moving closer to the entrance as I stared after it, reluctant to follow it despite knowing that it was the only way to get through today's trial.

I carefully placed my hand on the cold, dirty stones marking the edge of the doorway, trying to calm my breathing as I reminded myself that, for once, I was in the lead. I could be the first to return, to survive, today if I just fought, fought, to get through this.

And so, with one last shaky breath leaving my lips, I let go of the wall and made my way into the dimly lit corridor of bones and death; a striking contrast to the beautiful and bright City of Lights, Sector 7, looming overhead, untouched by the darkness, decay, and dry air which caused me to shiver.

The mud-lined passageways were, looking past the morbidity of the overall impression of the walls constructed from femurs stacked on top of each other in neat layers, their repetitive texture only broken by lines of brown, weathered skulls, well-made and impressive as I silently, carefully, began my quest into the catacombs.

I followed the shadows which occasionally flickered to life ahead of me only to disappear again as they turned corner after corner and guided me further into the maze, trying not to mind the low ceilings and feeling of intruding, of trespassing on the millions of people's graves, their stories, their secrets.

I was so focused that, when a sudden flare of pain exploded in my lower back sent me stumbling forwards, I was momentarily left stunned as the air was forced out of my lungs and I tried to regain my balance, frowning at the dull pain left by the hit as I whipped my head back to stare down the corridor but finding nothing but darkness behind me.