I laugh as the others explore ahead, having left the rest of the guided group oblivious of their new thrilling (and illegal) detour. After an hour of walking through stalagmites and stagnant puddles, the tunnel's jagged edges are cast in the warm glow of flashlights, Tim and Diana's silhouettes bumping shoulders in the tight space that leads down towards a supposedly haunted cavern. It's said to be inhabited by the souls of a couple who had chosen to commit suicide rather than be torn apart by their warring tribes. Tourists have romanticized the story over the last 300 years, dressing as the ghostly couple for Halloween, getting engaged in front of the lichen covered cavern, and even naming their children after the Nestic Cave, but no one remembers who the couple was or how they'd chosen to end their lives.
"You think this place is actually haunted?"
Jolting, I turn to smack Luke, his deep, teasing voice echoing like a gong to break my thoughts. "Don't do that! Of course it's not haunted! Ghosts aren't real!" My words are a harsh whisper, even as I glance at the shadowed recesses to search for ethereal glows or flickers of movement. But Luke steps in front of me, snagging my hand as he leans smugly against the uneven stone. "Then they won't mind if I do this." He pulls just enough to get me off-balance, my boots scuffing the floor as I'm falling into his arms and the mischievous embrace of his lips. Rolling my eyes, I don't fight it, enjoying the distant light that frames his handsome face, the quiet trickle of water, the racing of my heart. It's enough to have me leaning in, enticed by the scandal and high of the adventure.
I feel his fingers creep against my lower back and I arch into it, running my greedy hand down his chest. Luke chuckles a soft, wet huff of breath that makes me smirk, deepening the damp kiss for just a moment longer, knowing the others will make fun of us any minute, laughing about the couple who can't keep their hands or saliva to themselves. I know they're just jealous of our newer relationship and the rush that comes with falling in love.
A sharp pain shoots through my lip and I jerk back, shoving Luke in the chest. "Hey!" My eyes shoot open, ready to scold and reprimand for breaking the moment with his sharp teeth; but Luke's already looking at me. I can barely make out the dark brown of his eyes, wide with fear - and just beginning to glaze over.
"Luke, what - " The question is cut off by a scream, watching as a pair of massive, black mandibles snap out of his mouth. They're larger than my fingers, sharp at the ends and spined along the edges, glistening with something too dark to see. My hand goes to my mouth, muffling the scream that lodges when I see the blood trickling from Luke's nose, taste the copper on my tongue.
He's dead.
Oh God, he's dead.
The creature is clicking so softly that I almost miss it in the trickling of water. It creeps farther forward, reaching, hungry. I reel back, suddenly noticing that the walls aren't just uneven, they're covered in dark holes, hundreds, thousands, millions. They reach deep into the rock, too far to see except the shine of things moving. And now the walls are too close, the air running along my skin like an army of centipedes, every shadow shifting towards me. Muscles snap and convulse to rid the feeling, hoping it's just my mind playing tricks in my hysteria, but a soft thud sounds behind me as something falls from my back, another scream ripping from my chest.
I don't look at it.
No, my eyes scan, panicked, looking for my friends, for an exit, for an escape from the creatures beginning to stir. The light ahead has faded, hidden behind two mounds moving unnaturally along the floor - no - the entire tunnel is moving, rippling like oil set to devour me. It moves slowly closer, the clicking of mandibles snapping together, legs scraping across rocks, my ragged last breaths stuttering in response.
I let out a sob, stumbling back as the path before me constricts, suffocating it of light and hope.
This place isn't haunted.
It's infested.
"You think this place is actually haunted?"
Jolting, I turn to smack Luke, his deep, teasing voice echoing like a gong to break my thoughts. "Don't do that! Of course it's not haunted! Ghosts aren't real!" My words are a harsh whisper, even as I glance at the shadowed recesses to search for ethereal glows or flickers of movement. But Luke steps in front of me, snagging my hand as he leans smugly against the uneven stone. "Then they won't mind if I do this." He pulls just enough to get me off-balance, my boots scuffing the floor as I'm falling into his arms and the mischievous embrace of his lips. Rolling my eyes, I don't fight it, enjoying the distant light that frames his handsome face, the quiet trickle of water, the racing of my heart. It's enough to have me leaning in, enticed by the scandal and high of the adventure.
I feel his fingers creep against my lower back and I arch into it, running my greedy hand down his chest. Luke chuckles a soft, wet huff of breath that makes me smirk, deepening the damp kiss for just a moment longer, knowing the others will make fun of us any minute, laughing about the couple who can't keep their hands or saliva to themselves. I know they're just jealous of our newer relationship and the rush that comes with falling in love.
A sharp pain shoots through my lip and I jerk back, shoving Luke in the chest. "Hey!" My eyes shoot open, ready to scold and reprimand for breaking the moment with his sharp teeth; but Luke's already looking at me. I can barely make out the dark brown of his eyes, wide with fear - and just beginning to glaze over.
"Luke, what - " The question is cut off by a scream, watching as a pair of massive, black mandibles snap out of his mouth. They're larger than my fingers, sharp at the ends and spined along the edges, glistening with something too dark to see. My hand goes to my mouth, muffling the scream that lodges when I see the blood trickling from Luke's nose, taste the copper on my tongue.
He's dead.
Oh God, he's dead.
The creature is clicking so softly that I almost miss it in the trickling of water. It creeps farther forward, reaching, hungry. I reel back, suddenly noticing that the walls aren't just uneven, they're covered in dark holes, hundreds, thousands, millions. They reach deep into the rock, too far to see except the shine of things moving. And now the walls are too close, the air running along my skin like an army of centipedes, every shadow shifting towards me. Muscles snap and convulse to rid the feeling, hoping it's just my mind playing tricks in my hysteria, but a soft thud sounds behind me as something falls from my back, another scream ripping from my chest.
I don't look at it.
No, my eyes scan, panicked, looking for my friends, for an exit, for an escape from the creatures beginning to stir. The light ahead has faded, hidden behind two mounds moving unnaturally along the floor - no - the entire tunnel is moving, rippling like oil set to devour me. It moves slowly closer, the clicking of mandibles snapping together, legs scraping across rocks, my ragged last breaths stuttering in response.
I let out a sob, stumbling back as the path before me constricts, suffocating it of light and hope.
This place isn't haunted.
It's infested.
