A/N: ...And here we have number three! :) In case you didn't know, I've challenged myself to write five stories inspired by one of Edgar Allen Poe's poems or short stories. This is the third; number one was Usher (The Fall of the House of Usher) and two is Annabel Lee (poem of the same name), which is still in progress. This one is inspired by The Pit and the Pendulum. If you've read it, you probably know what's coming. ;)

A short note: I have a story request from the wonderful Agent LastWish that I'd like to devote my attention to, so I don't plan on updating this until I have that written. I never know when the muse is going to strike, of course, so if I get a burst of irresistible inspiration for this, I'll get it down, but I'd really like to work on this request, so don't expect anything, like, tomorrow or something.

Anyway, please review! You have no idea how much it would mean to me.

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or Edgar Allen Poe's short story The Pit and the Pendulum. Wish I did? Yes. Actually own? Me? Sadly, no.

XXX

In Virginia, there is a field. It is a green field with a stone wall on one side and a large tree beside it. On the other side of this field is an abandoned church, made of the same stone and in surprisingly good shape for its age.

If you enter the church, you will see a piece of history, preserved from modern day technologies. Its only Bible is on the podium at the minister's place, and the sanctuary is divided in half, down the middle, by wooden beams in the faded pews. You can almost hear the pastor leading the congregation in prayer, a much longer ritual then, and then settling easily into his Sunday message. There are cracks in the walls where golden sunlight drifts lazily through and reflects off of the floating particles of dust. The stained glass windows, while chipped, are still colorful and beautiful.

Below the church, however, is a much less holy place.

There is a place deep underground that would cause demons to stir uneasily in their sleep. It was a place of torture when the church was first built in 1839; it is black, and no dust dares rise from the ground. Its walls are inches thick, to disguise the screams, and its entrance well hidden, to prevent well-meaning clergy from discovering the room and its use.

Recently, someone has been coming to this church. They have found the room and converted it to their purposes.

Now, their first victim – or guest, as they would refer – wakes. He is bound to a table by chains he finds he cannot break. There is an eerie glow in the room, the source of which he cannot locate. He realizes he is alone, and without weapon. There is no sign of his kidnapper and no telling if or when they would return. He is stuck.

He rests his head on the table, his neck aching from straining to see. As his eyes focus upwards, he notices with interest and then horror the object protruding from the ceiling.

A pendulum.

It is unlike any pendulum he has ever seen before, in that the end, instead of a round teardrop-shaped piece, is instead flat and sharp, much like an axe with the blade on sideways. It is very slowly working its way down, from the top of the room to the bottom. It is positioned above the table he is strapped to, and, when it reaches the bottom, is positioned to cause a relatively quick death, while taking long enough to descend the room above to drive a man insane by the time it reaches him.

The man takes all of this in, fighting panic as he does so. He estimates he has several hours before it reaches him, and his always-analytical mind processes the information. It is unlikely at this point that whoever brought him here will return while he is alive, which leaves him to escape on his own.

He can't help but wonder if he can do it in time.

XXX

A/N: So, tell me what you think. *slyly* If you review, I'll be more inspired, which will make me write the other story faster so I can get back to this one! :D lol