Page 146 of Monsters in Love

If only the charm could do its magic now!

Vicky squinted against the gloom, looking for any semblance of a game trail that could possibly lead her back out. It was unlikely that she would end up anywhere near where she had started, but animals frequently carved distinct paths through their territory to its outer edges. If she could just find one, there was a chance of getting out. There was also a chance of going even deeper into the forest, but she quieted that fear. Seeing how she had no other resources to aid her, she had to take the chance.

The dark foliage around her didn’t make it easy. It seemed to converge and blend together in a daunting mass that reached out for her with gnarled fingers. Shuddering at the thought—since, apparently, she was determined to spook herself—she continued to scan her surroundings until her breath whooshed out in relief.There!Among the bushes, she could see the faint passage cutting through the trees and undergrowth.

Quickening her pace in excitement, she stumbled over an uplifted edge of rock. Thrown off-balance, she instinctively stretched out a hand and was surprised when it smacked against a rough, unyielding surface. Brushing her fingers over the numerous tendrils of vines and leaves, in the gaps between them she could feel the rough scrape of stone. Curious, she peered closer, pulling out an old Zippo from her pocket. She rarely used it outside of starting campfires to preserve her scavenged fuel, but times like this made her grateful to have it. Its flame flickered as she drew it closer to the surface, and her eyebrows rose at the sight of an overgrown stone wall.

“What in the world?” she whispered.

Despite being covered in enough vines to suggest that it had been in that condition for a while, the sight of the wall, though surprising, gave her some hope that it was perhaps an outer perimeter wall of someone’s property and a stone walkway. With the darkness settling even thicker through the forest, she hoped that it led to an abandoned house with four walls to protect her from whatever strange wildlife that was living in the forest.

“Please, please let there be a house.” The faint sound of her voice breaking through the silence was startling to her ears, but some prayers needed to be said aloud. She flicked her Zippo shut and gave the stone surface a grim smile. “I guess there’s only one way I’m going to find out.”

Keeping one hand on the wall, Vicky walked along its side, relieved when it didn’t immediately terminate into broken rubble. That allayed one concern. She only hoped that it would lead her to something fast. The last remnants of sunlight were fading fast, far faster than her plodding progress.

She wasn’t the least bit surprised when, minutes later, she was totally encapsulated within inky darkness. She let out a frustrated sigh. She could flick on her Zippo again, but without some kind of rudimentary torch, she didn’t relish the idea of burning through all her fuel for so little light. She curled her fingers slightly, feeling the tips scrape against stone reassuringly. As long as she could feel the wall, she should be okay.

Taking a fortifying breath, she continued forward, the sound of her steps on stone, interrupted and muffled in places by the overgrowth, providing disconcerting fuel for her imagination. Her fingers trailed along the rock, lifting every so often when she was forced to skirt a cluster of large rocks or heavy growth of tangled plants. Those moments left her feeling suspended in darkness—walled in by nothingness—until her hand flattened against the wall once more.

Every scuff of her boots dredged up memories of watching ghoulishNight of the Living Dead-type creatures rising out of ruins until she forcibly quieted them by focusing on the sound of her breathing. She was alive. She was just lost. She wasn’t some wandering dead thing or spirit caught in the dark underworld. It was just the dark, unnatural silence in the forest playing with her imagination.

Unbidden, she recalled hearing that the underworld had a section that was a vast forest full of wailing spirits. She shivered and drew in a huge, gulping breath.

She was alive. She breathed, in and out. Nice and steady.

Every breath was calming, reminding her that she was alive, keeping her focused as she walked rather than feeling like some wraith gliding through nothingness. No wraith would make such gusty sounds. Was she breathing too loudly? It sounded loud. She felt certain that something was listening, tracking every breath. She gulped in a breath and held it as she came to a stop, her ears straining for any trace of sound trailing after her.

Nothing.

A weak giggle escaped her and bounced back at her at a startling volume. Vicky froze, her eyes roving helplessly in the dark.

An echo? That couldn’t be right.

Stretching out her opposite hand. She slowly side-stepped until her hand flattened on another wall at her other side. Her blood chilled. Digging out her Zippo once more, Vicky ignited the flame and slowly raised her hand, her head tipping back.

Her eyes widened. Above, she could see the perfectly wedged-together blocks of stone. Lichen clung in some parts with clumps of moss, no doubt receiving meager light from some of the larger cracks between the rocks. Some of the gaps she would even wager were cut slits to allow in air and sunlight. They were so frequent and evenly spaced that she imagined that it would be lit well enough to see by if the sun hadn’t already set.

None of the gaps, however, were large enough to allow anything of any substantial size in or out. That meant that they were designed to keep dangerous creatures out… or something dangerous within.

Licking her lips, she stepped back a pace. And then another.

“I think… I think I’d better go back.”

She winced. Speaking to herself was a bad habit she’d developed after her father passed, driven by some need to be reassured by the sound of her voice, but it was one that was bound to get her killed wherever she now was.

With her small light held in front of her, she spun around and raced forward several steps only to come to a skidding stop. Frustrated tears sprung to her eyes as she stared at three different branches of the corridor, each one barely visible in her weak light but enough so that her heart dropped. She had no idea which one it was. She had been forced to release her hand from the wall so many times that it could be any of them.

Tears blurred her vision as she looked from one to the other, contemplating each path until a skittering sound made her draw up short. Turning her head back toward the direction she had been heading, she turned the light that way too, her heart hammering louder in her ears as she listened. Rocks fell somewhere in the distance from the direction she had been heading and her stomach pitched.

Lifting her light to the right, the passage closest to the wall, she bolted down the corridor, the shimmer of her lighter’s flame bouncing off the nearest stones, its fuel spending recklessly in her terror. Her stomach continued to roll with nausea as she plunged forward into the darkness, the vines seemingly lifting up from the walls, slowing her progress—taunting her.

From a distance, she could hear a skittering scrape of something in pursuit. The sound was an ominous combination of clicking, like something striking the stones repeatedly, layered with excited chittering and deep growling.

It didn’t sound like anything she wanted to encounter in the dark tunnel. Especially as the long corridor seemed to be stretching out, continuing without end ahead of her. Her chest burned as she sprinted, dodging unfamiliar fallen stone that she hadn’t recalled being in the path. Her brow furrowed at the sight of them, many coming so close to her that she would have been aware of their presence before.

Her lips parted in horror as understanding sank in.

Oh, fuck! She had gone the wrong way! This wasn’t the way she came! Vicky veered right, hoping that it would empty out onto a familiar path in addition to aiding in her escape from whatever creature was pursuing her. Or creatures. There was no way of knowing what was hunting her, much less how many of its number.

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