I had gone too far and gotten too close to not make the trek. It would be a rather annoying hike, but a good excuse to escape society for a while. The good news was that after a half day’s trip you could reach the old tracks, overgrown and ruined for certain, but a very easy path to follow directly into the heart of the old town. There were three of us in total, all of us experienced enough that we felt comfortable making the trip. We set off early Sunday morning and found the old tracks after about 6 or 7 hours. We nearly passed right over them as the bushes and ivy had all but taken them. I knew and expected to find it, but something about seeing the tracks first hand and knowing where it led was surreal.
We made our way down, following the ghostly rail straight into a den of hell. Some sections of the old track were more visible than others but overall it was a path of rusted and forgotten metal, we may have been the only people on Earth to set foot there in nearly 150 years, and that thought wasn’t lost on us. It was mostly devoid of any interesting sights, save a small bridge that had long collapsed into a small river. We made it through the first day with no delay and few issues. As the sun dropped around our campsite I felt the events were weighing heavily on all our minds, it was for me. I could hear the screams of the families in the winds weaving through the thick forest, it was haunting.
While we prepared to call it a night a large owl swooped overhead and stood on the branches above us, it was the first sign of wildlife we had actually seen since we began. Its huge eyes peered at us for a while, and at some point in the night it fled. I took it as a positive omen and we slept through the night without incident. We picked up along the tracks again, momentarily breaking to stick to a river that ran parallel to break the monotony. And about halfway through that second day we reached the final stretch. Looking around brought back the words of the officer, the forestry seemed to thin out greatly at a point, as if it struggled to grow here, tall withered reeds in large clearing. The area had become more akin to a swamp than the thick northern forest we were used to. The sun shone brighter here due to the limited treeline and the humidity became visible as it lifted slowly into the air. Bright and angelic, completely at odds with the strangely sparse land and oppressive air. We were close, very close, the weight of it all growing heavier, thicker as we pushed on.
There was a unanimous pause as we reached the outer rim of the town, as if we all knew where we stood. The tracks were gone now, cut off completely where the workers had stopped stripping the metal. The tall, dead grass stood exactly as described, the place hadn’t changed in over a century. Light seemed to dim here, and the air grew unnaturally still. We could see the large rocky hill that the mine was dug into beyond the clearing. We cautiously pushed through the grass, and the other end revealed a large, partially cobbled patch of dirt. Nothing had grown back, there was no sign of the town that used to be there, but one could easily picture where everything stood, there was a chill that ran down my spine looking at it.
I envisioned where the towns sign might have been, and where the house of Mrs Leblance could have resided. And then I thought of the fire, and it seemed as if I could still smell the smoke hanging in the air. And at the far end of it all, a collapsed mine shaft entrance. Two large makeshift hooks, rusted and beaten by the weather still remained above it where the bodies were hung. I didn’t blame the others for wanting to leave right then and there, it was unreal, like wandering into a place you thought only existed in your nightmares.
At first we weren’t sure what to do, and we realized we never knew what it was that we planned to do, we simply took it all in. It was as if the place was frozen in time, operating in its own little universe. We paid our respects and pressed forward again, walking around the large hill to investigate further. On the opposite end we found quite a sight, the old gallows frame almost totally collapsed, something the workers never bothered to clean up. We looked upon it as if an ancient structure from a bygone era, the massive heap of rusted and twisted metal folding in on itself. We approached it, examining the intricacies of it, when I spotted something that changed the entire goal of the trip, a hole.
Not just any hole, a hole directly into the shaft. One shine of the flashlight and we could see the wooden bracing far below, it was remarkable. In all honesty I didn’t expect anything of this sort, I had hoped to simply make this place a reality in my mind, but it offered so much more. Unsurprisingly I was the only one interested in going in. sure it was dangerous, but not difficult. About a hundred foot drop and you would find yourself on solid ground, only the entrance and deep ends of the mine were collapsed, the structural integrity should remain intact. There was still rope attached, mostly rotten but strong enough for my weight, there was no give on it whatsoever.
Against all better judgment of my friends and of myself I decided I would descend down. I gripped the rope and slung around my carabiner, I took one look at the others and saw pure terror on their face, but I assured them I would be fine. I couldn’t explain why I did it but I felt I had to. It was an opportunity given on a silver platter and one I knew I would regret not taking, and so I held on, and lowered down. “You have an hour and a half in there, max and then your ass better be back here.” They yelled, although I failed to see what the consequence would be exactly. It was a long drop, I took extra precaution with every movement but the rope held better than one could ever hope and I made it to the bottom unscathed. First thing I felt was a cold draft, It felt good in comparison to the hefty humidity I had been dealing with. It was dark as well, absolutely pitch black and even with the light my visibility was limited as the mine made sudden twists and turns all around me. I made a decision early on to only stick to the main path, any deviations into a side tunnel would be no more than a few feet, otherwise it would be far, far too easy to get lost. I kept a roll of reflective tape in my pack and occasionally left them on pieces of the bracing, just as a precaution.
It didn’t take long for the isolation to get to me, I don’t believe in ghosts or cryptids or really anything supernatural, but there was a feeling in that cave I could not explain. The breeze felt ancient, the walls unsecure. I had to question what the hell I was doing and I was no more than a few minutes in. The fear eventually subsided as I was met with nothing but plain walls and silence. After some time the tracks ended and I was following a stone path, I could see the makeshift bracing now, the terrible old and rusted train tracks propped against the walls, I was hesitant to continue on, but I figured if it hadn’t collapsed in this long what would cause it to now and I pressed forward. Then I started to smell something, a rotting stale odor in the dark air. There was a steep and sudden drop in elevation and it became difficult to keep my footing.
As I descended I started seeing white writings on the walls, symbols of unknown origin placed without thought or pattern, faded with time. This is what I was looking for, for better or worse to see the madness with my own eyes. They were everywhere, all along the ceiling, scribbled on the metal and floor. One in particular stuck with me, an elongated one that vaguely resembled a deranged laughing face, it was larger than the others and placed center on the wall. I followed these to a dead end, I had made it to the second collapsed entrance. The chills down my back were indescribable, on the other end was the horrid room described by the officers, perhaps the sick effigies were still there on the other side, the horrible smell of rot in the air only strengthened the gut wrenching feeling I had. I stopped and sat with my legs crossed on the floor and I closed my eyes, a moment of respect for the lives lost.
I meditated on it for a bit, it was calm at first, peaceful even. I took in the stale air and the atmosphere and the longer I sat the more I could envision. The poor people drug down this hall, their last moments seen in a dining light in a cave sent straight from hell. To be murdered, eaten and discarded. Women, young young children, after a moment I didn’t like thinking about it. And the more I thought about it, the more I didn’t like being there. However I felt compelled to stay, strange shapes seemed to form in dark blotches in my eye lids. The face from the wall seemed to creep its way in, regardless of my attempts to avoid it, such a disgusting and twisted image, I could see how it was never even mentioned, I could see why they wanted it buried. And the realization hit me, just beyond this wall and straight down below was that pit, that massive empty cavern.
Is that where the workers went? Why? What was down there… Why was I here? Then I noticed the cool breeze come to a sudden stop and I opened my eyes, shocked for a moment by the darkness. I had enough, there was nothing else to gain in here so I grabbed my flashlight and gathered my things and turned to head back. The distance back to the main shaft seemed much longer, I didn’t remember walking this far from it. I continued until I was met with a shocking sight, the symbols, scattered about as they were, had now… moved. They all seemed to have moved, it was subtle, subtle enough to make me doubt myself but enough for my brain to tell me something was wrong. My eyes grew wide and I immediately began to head back. But the further I went back the more obvious the change was, the symbols became clustered together, eventually forming what I could only describe as a path on the ground. I followed it, awestruck and in disbelief as it led down the corridor.
It winded and twisted some but stayed to the main path, I followed almost blindly, only barely checking to make sure I was on the right path. I was mesmerized by the terror of it, was I hallucinating? At the time it didn’t seem to matter to me, I just kept at it. God only knows how long I was walking, staring down and following the rearranged symbols with some kind of blind obedience. And then they came to a stop, a sharp left into one of the side shafts and it was here I finally caught my breath and put thought to the situation. This was madness, there was no way I was seeing what I was seeing or doing what I was doing. Every gut instinct would tell you to panic, to not go down that shaft and to desperately maintain a way of leaving that instant. But I didn’t, I took a long hard stare into that dark abyss, closed my eyes and breathed and walked right in.
The symbols stayed as they were for a moment, a few minutes of walking, and they scattered about again as they had before. Randomly placed all over the walls and floor, without any rhythm or reason now. I approached things more cautiously now, I shined my light slowly across the tunnel walls. First thing I noticed was the color of the letters began to change, the white letters becoming darker, crimson and a much deeper and less faded coloring. It became difficult for my flashlight to illuminate the rock hall, my vision dropping significantly. I don’t believe I even blinked once I stepped in, my eyes remaining furiously focused on the apex of the light as I slowly panned around. The light moved over a large patch of red on the wall, and I stared deeply at it, trying to make sense of the shape and as I finally reached it I dropped the flashlight in shock.
The light hit the floor and shined up at the figure on the wall. It was the symbol of the face again, much larger and much, much more detailed. It spread across the wall, and stared back at me with what I could only describe as sickening amusement. Like rotting flesh posed for viewing. I thought my heart had stopped completely and in a cold sweat I snatched the flashlight and stepped back. It was hideous, an absolutely twisted drawing that belonged in Dante’s depiction of hell itself. And then I noticed another shape beside it, larger and black. As I panned the light again the shape took form, and I saw an expansive mural.
In its center was a large cloaked figure, arms spread beneath cloth like wings and a face hidden by a bone mask. The skull of a large grizzly bear placed upon an unseen face and hands partially draped at the side with faded gray skin. At its sides were silhouetted figures, all bowed and praying in twisted and unnatural ways, some appeared to be begging in desperation. Beneath it was a woman, more detailed than the others and she laid upon a rock slab, surrounded by the praying figures. Two of them stood over her and one had plunged a jagged knife directly into her stomach and appeared to be sliding it down. The woman’s face was most shocking, not in pain but in orgasm, her arms caressing her gutted body.
The sight of it made me sick, my gut twisted and turned but I couldn’t look away. I stepped forward, looking at the sick painting deeply, following the great visage slowly with my eyes until I locked them with the black sockets of the animal skull. I felt it was staring back at me, like it was alive and speaking to me through my eyes. I thought I heard whispering, coming from both ends of the mine shaft around me but I ignored it, I couldn’t look away. I laid my hand on it, never breaking eye contact and I could see through the dark eyes, I could see pupils and they looked alive, they looked evil. As I lifted back my hand I felt something on them, they were covered in ink… it was fresh. The shock of it finally snapped me out of the trance, I had to leave, now.
I took off, almost running back the way I came after moments of darting back. Then I came to a terrible realization, I should have come upon the exit by now. I didn’t go far into the shaft, there was no way I walked that far in but the more I ran the less and less likely it seemed I would find it. This had become a nightmare, I panicked and the deeper breaths I took the harder it was to draw another, like I was being suffocated by something, like it was grasping at my throat. I stopped, grabbing my knees out of exhaustion despite barely exerting myself.
A breeze came in, more chilling than any before and I stared back into the darkness behind me. I felt something coming, and I heard something walking in the distance, my heart was pounding out of my chest but I didn’t have the energy to run. And suddenly I saw it, I swear to you I saw it, a speck of white slowly emerging from the pit, the sheen of skull gleaming from the pitch darkness. I ran, I ran as fast as I ever have, every upswing from the light in my hands flashing the horrible symbols, all of which had changed into dozens and dozens of faces, twisted in various ways. I heard echoes of chanting behind me and I felt the thing getting closer, the cold air now icy and unbearable. Where the fuck was the exit, this goddamn tunnel wasn’t this long I had only barely walked off the path, I was in full sprint for minutes and it wasn’t changing.
This wasn’t right, this wasn’t right at all, this is a nightmare and I can’t wake up. Thoughts raced through my head, I was lightheaded, the blood pumping so intensely I felt like I would have a heart attack. This wasn’t real, this couldn’t be real, how could this be happening? My legs finally gave out, I felt myself flying across the air and landing face first into the rock. I was knocked out, for how long I couldn’t say but as I was coming to I felt something coming to me in the darkness. I didn’t have the strength to scream or move and I felt its touch grabbing onto me, caressing me. And then I heard “Here! He’s right here, he’s ok.” A familiar voice.
I felt a hand slapping me awake, and I opened my eyes to see my friend looking down at me in utter horror. I couldn’t imagine the sight of me there, he was absolutely terrified at what he saw. “You’re ok, you’re ok! It’s going to be ok, we’re here. Just breathe, we’re gonna get you out of here. Christ alive man, what the hell happened down here? What were you thinking?”
I had no answer, I was shaking uncontrollably and was beyond relieved to see a familiar face and voice. I was carried out on their shoulders, I barely made it back up the rope. Never was I so happy to see sunlight. My skin was pale white and bags had formed under my eyes, I felt clinical for hours after. Apparently I was gone for well over an hour, and they heard my screams from the surface. They found me at the end of the tunnel, screeching and squirming in total darkness, I couldn’t imagine what was going through their heads. We wasted no time leaving. We stopped and took a final look at the place before turning our heads and walking away in silence. It was a quiet trip back, I didn’t explain anything I saw until the second day out, and I didn’t even feel like speaking about it then.
The trip would end here, we had seen enough. We made it back to the hotel and packed up and set out the same day. I don’t think any of us shared a single conversation the entire time. When we finally arrived home we went our separate ways and I poured over my journals and copies of the archives. I didn’t feel any satisfaction from the whole thing, no questions were answered. I reached out to local universities and various online sources, the only theory that seemed worth a damn was a potential natural gas leak in the cavern. But even that felt like a deflated attempt at explanation, and I have found absolutely nothing similar to compare it to.
I’ve had nightmares on a weekly basis since I left, waking in cold sweats desperate to escape the visions. That mural has never left my mind, and that face appears in the corner of the darkness when I’m alone. Perhaps I’ll never recover fully from it all, it’s certainly taken its toll. I review my notes daily, and I read the harrowing accounts nightly. It just doesn’t sit right, none of it. The images of the dead forestry, the rotting smell, the symbols all burned into my vision and my dreams. A nightmare is recurring, the skull figure sits at the end of my room and watches over me, and I stare back unable to move, unable to breathe as it looks down. Sometimes I see it in the day, sitting far away and staring down at me. I almost crashed my car seeing it in the road, and it’s gotten worse since I’ve cut back on sleep.
The others try to reach out, but I don’t tell anyone about it, how could I? It’s been weeks now, all I can think about is the mine, all I can think about is going back. I need answers, and it knows I need answers and I think it has them. It’s always had them, it wants me to know, it chooses me to know. It must be a call, it wants me to know what happened, it wants me to know why. It sits, waiting for me to hear it and to answer it and… I think I have to answer it, it won’t leave me alone until I answer it. It wouldn’t be hard to find it again, only a couple days drive back to town, and a couple days trip back to the mine. There is more there, I left too quickly and I didn’t get what I wanted, I didn’t get what it wanted. I’m going back, it’s the only way, I have to do it for the people who died there, I have to do it for myself. I’m… I’m going back, I have to go again and I have to do it right. I’m coming back, I have to come back.