Faithful Pebble:
Part Twenty-Two
He could see,
Tick
Though it was dark, clear and crisp like it was morning, mid-day there feet below the surface of the earth.
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Tick
He licked his lips and looked around, simultaneously ensuring that the watch hadn't fallen,
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That it was safe
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And secure.
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With a gentle pat over the hidden pocket nestled somewhere in his trousers,
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Tick
His glowing cyan eyes shifted with the movement.
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Swaying left, right then left again, He spied many things
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As he turned a tight circle at the bottom of that abandoned,
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Crumbling,
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Overgrown sewer of a well. Yes, He noticed many things,
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Multiple things that expressly surprised him.
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Tick
Tock.
Forget that.
Just like the smallest child of that monstrous gang, who was quick to discover that the wanderer foiled his attempt at stealing by substituting his wallet for a piece of cheese (Yes, it did happen. The kid had cried for an hour after that.) he was simply floored.
The first thing that he noticed was that the rock lined walls no longer existed.
Tock
He looked up noticing the place where the vined masonry lines ended. Their boulders dangled dangerously high like yellow crooked teeth in the smile of an old man, or more specifically, the one who had warned him of the well's deteriorating condition in the first place.
"One of the last things I heard her say was that it was getting deeper. It's why you can't see the bottom."
The bottom? He thought.
"That's what she used to say. Would say it all the time, but now it's just silent."
The wanderer snorted. Silent, eh?
Tock.
The Woodcutter was right… partially. No, he had been lied to. The well had gotten deeper but the reason which the girl implied, a natural occurrence, a random occurrence, was far from the truth. The man looked down viewing the dirt crusted floor with the claw like gouge marks that blatantly gave her away… like the tunnels.
Where walls should have been four tunnels sprouted and grew, wandering into deep places, dark places seeping like veins into the flesh of the earth.
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The wanderer let his wonder overwhelm him. Had she dug these?
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Where did they lead to? To rooms, to traps, to…? How long had she been down here? And more importantly, which way did she go?
Tock
Tock
For a second, a minute, a moment, the man considered his options before taking off into the western bound tunnel. Headed towards the village, only one thought plagued his mind pulsing like the steady steps of the second-hand marching down, prancing down, counting down somewhere deep in his pocket.
Tick
Tick
Tock
Where are you?
Not the greatest, but hey. Enjoy. - Calla