Among The Shadows
The splinters jump painfully with the throbbing of your bruised hand. Dry blood threatens to drip again, causing each step to become lighter and lighter. Staggering along the corridor, you look back to see the mess you had made, a crumbling pile of rocks and wood. Suddenly you remember, the separation, the fright, the shriek of the tour guide. It took only a minute for everything to go haywire, and for you to be left with no way out, and no knowledge of the specific routes allowed to the tourists.
The delicately painted walls had shown no sign of age, though the castle was older than old. The intricate patterns coursed its pale fingers through the many grooves in the wooden panels. Every few minutes you cross by an old picture frame with an unfamiliar face on it, or a small table with elegant candles displayed on top. Then an old, worn scribe comes into view. It's proudly displayed upon the wall, wrapped tightly in a sleek, velvet cover. Curiously, you reach up to feel the soft lace against your own skin, hoping to gain some hope of a miracle. Watching with hopeful eyes, you study the scroll. Everything about it - the look, the feel, the faint scent of the dusty leather, for you feel that somehow, someway, this item has the potential power to lead you to your own sanctuary, a safe haven. After a few moments, the hope drains from your mind, and you turn away, displeased and deceived. Suddenly, the scroll falls from its perch and tumbles down upon the mosaic tile. The delicate paper became separated from the glistening silk, and landed face-up at your feet. Gazing down at the beautiful, calligraphic art, you start to make out the words carved into the treasure. It read,
"Clutching a crystal rose in a dusty courtyard, the red rays of sunset sparking fire through its facets, and making the auburn curl within glow as my own voice rose from everlasting darkness."
Beautiful as it was, the mysterious message it was trying to conceal, hid a dark secret as to what evil was bonded to this very structure. Leaving the ancient scroll behind, you continue on to find that some of the white frosted candles on the tables remain lit and alive. The ambiance was a soft, romantic feel and the shadows didn't seem so scary at first. Then the smooth, flawless tile turned to gravel, then to dirt, and still, the tunnel continued on.
Then all hope fades immediately whilst noticing the scorch marks on the walls. The speckles of ember still glowed with their fiery, unpredictable self. The fire had burned holes in the walls, where the darkness bled through. Amidst the smoke, you can see where fire had formed a distorted, but recognizable arch. Beneath the display of waving flames was an old, toasted door with a missing handle. The mysterious glow from under the door appeared to beckon you inside. Hesitantly, you step forward, and noiselessly push the charred door open.
A rancid smell unexpectedly swept up your nose. It instantaneously suspected death, decay, and fear. Though you are aware you came alone, you can hear faint whispers and feel the sorrow roaming the air around you. Walking by a rusty, chained cell door, you can sense the pain and misery of those who were once imprisoned and left to rot. Piercing cries, howls and screams, bounce off the walls and echo back to your ears. Shuffling through the thick layer of dust on the floor, the snap of crisp bones beneath your feet make you flinch, causing your pace to quicken in search of an exit from the horror that surrounds you. The clinking and clanging of chains on cold concrete freezes you in mid-step, as you peer inside a cell to see a sprawled out skeleton. The creepiest thing it was; a long chain wrapped around the ankles, a spider nestled in the eye socket, and in its bony, wicked fingers, a key.