Chapter I: A Bed of Bones
There was nothing.
No-one.
Only darkness.
Her senses were muddled, she was only certain of the wall's cool pressure against her back. The smell of damp earth and stone clung to the musty air she inhaled with each short breath. Her sobs had quieted a while ago, the slow, silent tears that rolled down her flushed face were the sole proof of her terror. The natural chill of these tunnels now a piercing ache that sank into her bones. The woman lay huddled against the rough stone, staring blindly into the pitch black that had swallowed her up.
She struggled in vain to soothe the pain of her freezing limbs, anxiously blowing what little hot air she had left onto her stiff fingers. Even if she could manage to stand in her disoriented state, her body would not respond properly enough for her to look for a way out.
The girl pressed her forehead against her knees. Then she laughed, and soon, the laughter was indistinguishable from her cries. She would die here, asleep in this womb of death, taking nothing with her but the sour taste of disappointment. Her bones would form part of the ossuaries she had been so mesmerized by. There would be no body to bury if it was not found. Her eyes widened. How would her family visit her grave if she was never found? It was here that narrow hazel eyes came to mind, set in a weathered face. At this, she shook her head. No, this was best. She didn't want those eyes to gaze dismally at her grave.
She had, had enough of that in life. She didn't want it in death.
Pain bubbled up inside her breast, remembering the fury reflected in those bright eyes years ago as she slammed that door shut. Never looking back. Not once. Despite the flood of tears she'd shed while doing so. Her mother's cries as she ran behind her, struggling to reach her fleeing child. If she could move her fingers she would have clutched at her chest. How many nights did her poor mother stare up at the ceiling in the dead of night? Did she weep? Or did she even think of her at all? Regret struck her, closing her eyes as shame overwhelmed her soul.
All her life would amount to one great, suffering sigh of regret.
Sleep crept over her slowly, like a snake coiling its cold, scaly body around a dying rodent. She was too far gone to fight it any longer. No one would come for her.
Why hadn't she listened back then? Those searing words flung at her over and over again were piercing her being time and time again. Shouted at her as she ran through that mahogany door.
'Don't throw your life away for a pipe dream!'
Her heart fluttered every now and then, each breath fainter than her last. Violet lips parting to exhale the quietest of whimpers.
She had naught but a dull, gold ring to hold when she sank deep into the icy sleep of the catacombs.