We were out of fresh oil and my dad asked me to go quickly down there since it was rush hour. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear.
“If the torch fails, throw a bottle of oil”.
He said nothing after that and simply pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and put it in my hands along with the key.
My family consists of my sister and father. My mother disappeared a year ago from the crypt. My sister barely comes out of her room and my dad is not the cheerful happy man I once knew.
As if his very mind were washed clean with discomfort, anger, and dread. I had been panic eating as a result to try and cope.
My father is a farmer who likes to sell fresh chips and oil to the locals. They adore him and his products. While he makes the chips in front of the customers above ground, he keeps the machinery in an old crypt.
The underground crypt belonging to a church that was shut down due to a string of murders and the church was subsequently demolished. After a minute of thinking in my head I made it to the front.
The hairs on my body stood up as I gulped. I took a step back and got nauseous. It felt like an oppressive force was trying to swallow me whole.
I took a deep breath and clenched the key I had to the crypt hard. I bit my lip and opened the door. The stench of rot, blood, dust, and other fowl smells hits me in the face like a gust of wind.
I cup my hands over my mouth as my cheeks puff out.
Once I calmed down I made my slow descent. I shined the area with the flashlight my father had given me before. The ray of protection I had was faint and overcome by the darkness.
I would only be able to see from a few feet away, not even. I looked out for cobwebs and spiders, yet I found none. Not even an ant or bug. I felt my hand against the damp cold stone walls of the crypt.
At the bottom of the stairs I slowly scanned the area and peaked around corners. It was cold and lifeless. I walk through the series of halls. The glowing of torch light leading my way to the main hub.
I heard scratching from many areas. I stopped silently, not uttering a word. I gripped my flashlight and slowly took steps down the gloomy corridor. I made it inside the main lobby area.
It was massive and open. There were around 50 or more pillars dotting the room. But it was dark. So dark. The only relief I had was the many torches lining each pillar. Before I could walk over to the machinery on the left I checked the darkness.
On the ground was a pile of glass shards and a broken torch. My body shook lightly as I tried to keep myself together. I ran and grabbed the sack of fresh oil bottles.
The clacking inside made me even more tense as my flight response kicked in. Before I could turn I heard quick stepping.
The slapping of hands and feet echoed throughout the entire crypt. Pillars were slashed and scrapped. Stone bits fell to the ground with a pitter patter. I turned to my left in front of the machines and kept a torch close to me.
I was paralyzed. I realized that I wasn’t alone. I stared at the darkness for a couple minutes as I dragged the sac slowly to the exit. One of the bags on the right side of the machinery, cloaked in shadow, was taken in an instant.
The clunking and smashing of glass made me scream. I stood there in shock with my hands up. I heard a sickening rip and then quiet.
Nothing.
I heard nothing.
I shined in every direction around with my flashlight. I held it with one hand. I looked more and more excessively. My mind conjured every possible scenario were something would come to get me.
Maybe from behind me. Maybe from behind the nearest pillar.
But then it happened.
I heard a crash and a torch at the far right end went out.
Then another.
Then another.
It kept going until I could see two piercing white orbs inside the darkness. Little dots amongst the mass of shadow that consumed me and the room. I tipped and tapped in the darkness. I held the torch in my hand and swung it.
I heard a slight whimper.
Followed by the sound of crawling backwards.
I started to run out of there.
A multitude of glass bottles came out of the darkness and hit the doorway, shattering.
Thousands of jagged glimmering shards rained down on me. I shielded my eyes with my only open hand. I turned back.
The white eyes were close.
The eyes rose until I had to lean my head way back to look upwards.
Until the ceiling shook releasing some dirt and dust from cracks in the ceiling.
My eyes shook rapidly as if I were sleeping.
The foggy shine of little stars glaring at me from within the dark.
It watched my every move.
I felt a gust of wind. All the torches were out, including the one in my hand. I paused in disbelief and blew on it hoping it would start again. But to no avail.
I heard my voice from the darkness.
“Huchard! Huchard! Come here boy!”.
It boomed and echoed, causing me to cover my ears.
I heard jingling down the hall. Huchard came to me and started licking me happily. I felt relieved and got up. Huchard growled at the glowing eyes. It didn’t matter what it looked like, my dog Huchard was brave as can be.
But it was just for a moment. I swear it was just one split second. A massive pale hand with pointed fingers grabbed huchard and pulled him into the darkness. The screams and whimpers of my dog were soon replaced with crunching.
The eyes glowing within the darkness remained still, the silence being broken by a sloshy dripping that made my blood curdle. My body sweated as the goosebumps arrived on my skin. I weakly shined my flashlight at the area and my heart started pounding instantly.
I wanted to puke and cry, it was heart wrenching. Huchard’s head and collar were lying on the crypts cold floor in a puddle of red. I heard a ghostly snarl from inside the darkness which echoed throughout the crypt. I reached into my bag quickly and took out a bottle of fresh olive oil, the rest clacking inside. I reached my arm back like a pitcher and chucked it at the eyes.
I ditched the bag and bolted towards the exit hall. My eyes were wide and I didn’t even have time to scream. The blood coursing through my veins went hot with the sporadic pumping, the adrenaline fueling my flight.
I expected to hear a smash, rather an echo of spilling and delighted coo’s thrashed my eardrums.
My mothers voice echoed throughout the halls behind me. I stopped immediately.
“Bill! Bill! Where are you Bill! Don’t leave me down here!”.
I clenched my shirt and ran away. I heard it scream in her voice. Something I could never forget.
“Bill! Come back!”
Once I got to the steps I skipped every other until I collapsed on the grass and shut the crypts doors. I took this time to catch my breath.
My lungs expanded and pounded as I greedily gulped air. The sweat poured down my back as my eyes rapidly blinked. I ran back to the stand and fell into my dad’s arms crying excessively.
All I remember saying in the panicked state was.
“It got huchard! There is something down there dad!”
My dad grabbed my shoulders and said.
“Close down the shop, I’m going to go get the shotgun”.
My dad ran inside as quickly as he ran outside with the family shotgun. I saw him make way to the crypt and go downstairs. It took everything I had to concentrate on cleaning up the area. Every minute I looked back again and again.
Yet he didn’t return.
I feared for the worst and dialed up my grandparents. After 30 minutes they came to pick me and my sister up. I lied to them. I told them that dad said we could go see them. When we got there I cried for hours on the couch.
They asked me why but I said it was because of a break up. Another lie. I heard a knocking at the door and I went to go get it.
It was my dad. He was all bandaged up and one of his eyes was covered with a patch. In his right hand he clutched Huchard’s bloody collar. In his left was a cellphone.