A damp, dank odor wafted out. I stared at the opening; I’m sure my mouth hung open as I tried to take in what had happened. A tunnel? In my snug little home? Why?
Hesitantly, I stepped closer and shone the flashlight’s beam into the dark, cobwebby space. I could see no end to it, so I didn’t know how long it was or where it went.
Curiosity was always one of my strong points, or weaknesses, depending on how you look at it. I certainly couldn’t continue with my day until I knew why the tunnel was there. There was only one thing to do. Grasping my light like a lifeline, I stepped inside. Immediately, the noise of the storm faded. Silence pervaded, a silence born of the ages.
The tunnel was so small that I had to stoop to keep my head from banging against the rocks above me. So, bent sort of like a pretzel, I inched a little farther in. Was I crazy to do such a thing? I had no idea what lay ahead of me, or what, besides dust and spider webs called this dark place home.
I shouldn’t have continued. I should have backed out and waited until I could get help from town. But, with each sliding step, I hoped I’d come to the end of this thing and see what its purpose was. The rocky path slanted downward. I had to slide my hand along the wall to keep my footing. And, I noticed something else. No longer was the tunnel dusty. Moisture beaded the sides and floor. Still, I kept walking.
Surely I hadn’t been inside this space more than ten minutes, when I became aware that the silence had fled. A soft roar came to my ears. My heart hammered. It was the sea! This shaft was bringing me closer to the ocean. My legs gave way and I dropped onto the floor. Not comfortable, those rocks beneath me, but fear had robbed my legs of the ability to stand. Where was I? Would this subterranean path suddenly end, dropping me into that frothing expanse that pounded outside?
Taking several deep breaths, I tried to swallow the panic that rose in my throat. I wanted out of here. I wanted to be back inside the comforting walls of my cottage, safe from unknown dangers and sudden death. But, how could I go back without knowing why I had discovered this tunnel? How could I feel secure any more, when the entry to this dark pathway was in my own house?
Bracing my free hand against the wet wall, I pulled myself to my feet, standing as upright as I could under the low ceiling. My other hand grasped the flashlight with a death grip. Inch by inch, I slid my feet farther along, downward, ever downward. Then, the path ended–not in the stormy water, which by now was a deafening roar above me, but in a small, circular room. The room was empty except for some sort of box or trunk. I gasped and rubbed my eyes. Something lay beside the trunk, something that gleamed white in the beam of my flashlight. Surely, it couldn’t be, but it was. The skeletal remains of a person lay on the rocky floor.
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