damp and musty, fungal, and faintly oceanic. The tang of brine was in the air, and so was the pungent smell of rotten fish. The deeper I went, the more I felt as if I was wandering through one of my nightmares again. These black tunnels seemed endless. With every step, I feared my flickering flame would illuminate something in the dark. With every breath, I feared I wouldn’t be able to get enough oxygen as I went deeper, and deeper.
The tunnel narrowed, and sloped steeply downward. I edged myself down the slope, slipping to a halt as my boot touched water. The way ahead was flooded, the water too murky to see how deep it was. If I wanted to go on, I’d have to swim, and completely submerge my head.
I had no idea how long this tunnel was, or when I’d be able to surface again. If it kept leading deeper, then there was a chance the rest of the way was entirely underwater. It wasn’t worth the risk, it would be too dark to see. I’d have to double back, take the other branching tunnel and hope it led me further up instead of down.
I turned to go back, and abruptly stopped. I could hear something moving in the tunnel behind me. Sniffing the air, walking slowly — stalking.
I held my breath, too frightened to make a sound, and held out my light. It barely penetrated the dark, the blackness beyond its glow utterly complete. But slowly, a long, thin, boney limb stepped into the light. A skeletal canine head. A rotten, fur-covered body.
The monster opened its mouth and howled, and I had no choice. I shoved my lighter into my pocket, and plunged into the water.
The water was freezing, seizing up my already cold body. I had to fight the painful cramping as I swam, my flailing arms and kicking feet bumping against the narrow tunnel walls. When I opened my eyes, only darkness greeted me. My lungs were aching, and I released a little air. I had to swim faster.
Something brushed against my foot and was gone when I frantically kicked out at it. Shit, shit, shit! My heart beat harder and my lungs began to scream for air. I couldn’t turn back now. The tunnel had narrowed so much that I was crawling more than swimming, unable to spread my arms because the walls and ceiling were so close. Claustrophobia set in as I frantically wiggled my way forward, terrified that at any moment the tunnel would grow to narrow to move at all. My lungs were begging for air, burning to release the carbon dioxide sitting stagnant in them.
Come to me.
Panic made me release the last of my oxygen. It felt like a weight had been set on my lungs, slowly crushing them under the pressure. I was frantic now. I had to dig my nails into the dirt to pull myself along, because the tunnel was too narrow to kick my feet to propel myself.
Come...come…
The voice was a whisper in my ear, a vibration in the water, an invasive, pervading thought that echoed in my head. I pushed it away, trying to wall my thoughts with a determined internal mantra: Just keep going. Go. Go. Go.
The tunnel opened. I swam up through open water toward a faint silvery glow. I burst to the surface gasping, coughing, my lungs frantically taking in every bit of oxygen they could. It was dim, but there was light here: everything was gray and pale. I could see a dark shore and swam for it, hauling myself up onto the damp stone where I lay on my back, staring at the stalactites high above as they dripped icy water onto my face.
Only when my lungs stopped aching did I sit up. The chamber I found myself in was large, the source of the pale gray light impossible to determine. There were old wooden boxes stacked against the far wall, and in the center of the room was another pool. It was perfectly black, like spilled ink. Beyond that, a pile of rubble had collapsed out of another tunnel entrance.
There was no way out. Only back, through the water, toward the monster that waited on the other side.
There was no way out.
I sat there in silence, staring at the dark pool until my eyes ached. My stomach growled, and my mouth was so dry that I sipped some of the murky water from the tunnel I’d just swam