The human mind–specifically, the memory within, is a phenomenal thing to behold. Over the course of our objectively short lives, countless names, dates, and faces can be recognized instantaneously, with virtually no strain. We fondly cling to the memories and ambitions from our childhoods, which inevitably influence the way we grow and develop. Some memories work in the opposite way, instilling us with distinct phobias and aversions for years to come. Others are so traumatic that we push them deep within the blackened corners of our psyche, only to resurface when an outside stimulus provokes it. Yet there is another layer, just under the fragile veil of our conscious minds and physical memory. Here lie the faint echoes of aeons past, a bygone age when we used nought but sticks and stones, and firelight brought our only salvation when the dark, ceaseless night would envelop the earth; An archaic era when we were prey.
The first time I saw the hole, I was twelve and was right at the age when my mother and father had started letting me explore our 46 acre property by myself. One warm summer day, I had wandered deep into the woods, admittedly much further than my parents would have wanted. I had just broken through a clearing and had come to the base of an incredibly vast and beautiful swamp. Fallen trees littered the still water like dominos, many providing a perch for the myriad of marsh birds I observed. The bright green algae that coated the water like a thick blanket seemed to be even more vibrant as the midday sun reached its zenith in the cloudless sky. As I gazed in awe upon the clusters of decaying trees and the occasional beaver dam, I was reminded of a story my father once told me; of how a century before a horse-drawn carriage, it’s horses, and the rider, got lost in a nearby swamp, never to return. Now, taking purchase on one of several large rocks overlooking the stagnant water, I wondered if this was the very swamp from the old tale. This thought only reinforced the sheer sense of momentousness and reverence I felt sitting at the mouth of this antiquitous place.
As I began to unpack and eat my lunch, I scanned my surroundings. While I did, a queer feeling washed over me;
See, as we observe our environment, our brains undergo a series of checks, scanning for uniformity, and making us more aware of anything out of the ordinary.
It was almost immediately clear what my brain was alerting me to; to my left was a craggy, man-sized hole, a few feet in diameter, tucked in a hollow among the cluster of rocks. Try as I might, I could not get a look at what was below, as the darkness of this mysterious cavity seemed to restrict any light from passing within its confines. Had I just stumbled upon a cave? From all the documentaries and movies I had watched, I surmised that there must be something of great value there. Would I find dinosaur bones? A casket full of gold? A passage to a foreign and fantastical land? As a young boy, I dared not climb down, in fear of wild animals or boogeymen, but I knew that if I were to work up the courage to explore it, I would discover a cache of earthen treasures beyond my wildest dreams. Sadly, I would never come to find out what secrets my new discovery held, as just a few weeks later my parents announced that we were moving to the next town over, and shortly after sold our house and property.
The sudden change of lifestyle succeeding our move had left me with an unrivaled appetite for adventure that resonated with me long after I departed that forest. I took every chance I could to explore my new surroundings, albeit they were very mundane and ill-suited as compared to my 46-acre sovereignty. My mind, however, would always creep back to that curious crevice. What had been just beyond the black veil I had dared not pierce? Eventually I grew older, and as I did, the memories of the hole faded with the passage of time. The years flew by, I graduated high school and went to college, but still, my desire to seek out the unknown remained unchanged. More recently, I had taken up caving with my university’s outing club. Though each expedition brought new adventures and experiences for me, I longed to venture where others had not dared.
Then came the summer of my 21st birthday. For the first time in three years since starting at college I was working from home for the summer. This put me in a very unique position to revisit my old haunts during the weekends. I would go hiking, metal-detecting, and hunting for arrowheads along the banks of the nearby river which I had learned to call my home. With a recently acquired car and well paying job, it seemed as if the limits to my escapades were endless.
One morning, as I was debating what I should do for the day, my mother suggested I check out the new “Frisbee Golf” course that had opened in a nearby town park. Frisbee Golf? I could barely golf with regular clubs, let alone throw a frisbee, so this endeavor would likely not end well. Impassioned, but with no viable alternatives, I fished my phone from out of my pocket and loaded up my GPS to find the address. When the small satellite image loaded on my screen, my eyes immediately lit up. The town park was directly connected to my old property! Memories of my youth began rushing back to me as I zoomed in to get a better look. A warm feeling of nostalgia encompassed me, and I couldn’t help but grin as I examined the land around my childhood home; The foundation of the old chicken coup, the endless sea of trees, and…something else. My fingers slowly traced the outline of a familiar green and black mass at the edge of the property, and suddenly, I remembered.
The Swamp…the Hole. How could I have forgotten?
I looked closer. The ancient myre was just as titanic as I remembered. The fallen trees resembled broken matchsticks from the air against their gentle lime-green backdrop. On the Southern end, by the swamp’s mouth, I could detect several grey shapes, no doubt the boulders that harbored the discovery I had all but forgotten until now.
I should go back.
I almost laughed out loud; the thought seemed so absurd the more I considered it. I was so young, naive, and full of pipe-dreams when I had come across the hole. I’m sure I only saw what I wanted to see, since stumbling upon a legitimate cave was not an everyday affair. Moreover, the old property must be presently occupied, and it’s current owners may not take kindly to a lone caver wandering their land. Still, I entertained the idea a bit longer; I could park my car at the Disc Golf course, and bushwhack my way into the forest until I had reached the swamp. Sure, it was trespassing, but no one would be the wiser, and as I always said, “It’s better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission”. I had quickly made up my mind; Without a moment’s hesitation, I informed my mother I would be “disc golfing” all day, and frantically set about digging out my caving gear.
The trek through the forest took fewer than twenty minutes even with a backpack full of equipment, and with the approximate location marked on my GPS, it was no time at all until I reached a break in the trees. Before me sprawled the swamp, just as I remembered it–or at least, mostly. The dead trees looked a little more gnarled, the water just a little more putrid and stagnant. The muted green algae now seemed to choke out the once vibrant flora I so fondly recalled.
Maybe it was the overcast sky, or maybe it was the lost carriage and long deceased rider on my mind again, but my beloved swamp looked much more ominous than memory served. None of that mattered now though, because I had returned at last, and shortly I would have the answers I had long since sought after. My eyes scanned the bank of the swamp until they fixed upon the large rock I remembered sitting on all those years ago. I don’t remember the exact instant I started towards it, but as if in a trance, moments later I found myself standing atop of it, staring out into the limitless sea of moss-covered stumps and murky obsidian water.
My gaze fell to the hollow beside the rock, and there it was; the hole, just as I remembered it. Just as mysterious, and just as dark. It was as if all light bent around it’s blackened maw in fear of illuminating what lies below. The longer I stared into the endless void, the more it seemed to stare right back, beckoning me forward. I guardedly approached the opening and fumbled for my flashlight. I hesitated; I thought about the little boy who had been here almost a decade prior. I thought about how he dreamed of discovery, of priceless treasure, of fame and fortune following his exploration of “Swamp’s Mouth Cave”. Now, I would be putting his nine-year obsession to rest, for better or for worse. For a few moments, I stood, silently mourning my childhood. I thought about how I might preserve a sliver of my innocence still, should I turn around now. No. I had never been one to leave a mystery unsolved. I flicked on the flashlight. A sharp beam of light flooded the darkness, and revealed what appeared to be a five foot drop onto a stone ledge.
“No way”, I breathlessly whispered to myself.
I shrugged off my backpack and sat at the edge of the hole, and with flashlight clenched between my teeth, I carefully hoisted myself down. Before my feet even made contact with the stone, I was hit with a sudden blast of cool air. The stench of dirt, decaying leaves, and moss began to pervade my nostrils. It was then that I knew, before my eyes could even scan the surrounding area, just what I had found. I dropped to the ledge and eagerly surveyed my new discovery.
As I suspected, the great boulders at the mouth of the swamp had cracked and relented long ago to reveal a shaft, which, via a cascade of colossal stones, opened into a sizable chamber below, around 15 feet in height.
Deciding this warranted a better look, I carefully descended the stones until my boots met the ground with a resounding splash. The chamber floor was flooded in an inch of water, and it was likely that more was too; echoing from the dark tunnel ahead, I could recognize the faint drip-drip-drop of some unknown water source. Just how far would this passage go? Fifty feet? More? It was impossible to tell, since the impenetrable darkness greedily swallowed what little light I gave off. I had seen enough to know that I would have to don my caving gear which I had brought in the premature notion that I would find a cave.
Excitement getting the better of me, I hastily threw on my helmet and affixed both my primary and backup headlamp to it. I could hardly believe it; I was standing on the precipice of a long-delayed discovery. I was climbing my own Everest, fulfilling my lifelong delusions of exploration into uncharted territory. I wasn’t certain what marvels lie ahead for me, but I was prepared to investigate them all.
The tunnel system was the most fascinating one I had ever seen in my several years of consistent caving. As I sloshed forward, I took scrupulous note of my new treasures; Fossils from long dead aquatic creatures adorned the cave walls, many so fully preserved that it was a wonder none had leapt from the stone and into the water below. Stalactites clung to the ceiling, like craggy chandeliers in my newfound palace. Delicate droplets of water shimmered in the light of my headlamp, like thousands of tiny jewels, all to claim as my own. With every exhale, my short, heavy breaths escaped in clouds of hazy mist that danced and swirled about the passages.
As I shuffled further into the chamber, my boots were uncharacteristically loud against the stark silence of the cave, churning up murky water and debris every time I attempted to take a step. I placed my hand on the sodden wall as I went, delicately brushing past each individual cobweb as not to disturb the arachnoid denizens who had dwelled here long before my arrival. The water had eroded the stone passage gradually, lending a ribbed appearance to the tunnel. This gave the illusion that I was inside the belly of some serpentine behemoth, much to my juvenile delight. The chamber seemed to veer off to the right, deeper into the earth. I turned the corner and as I looked back, I saw the last wisp of daylight fade before plunging into the inky abyss.
Eventually, the passageway narrowed and corralled me into a compact room with a small stone overhang. I crawled up onto the ledge and found myself exiting into a miniature canyon, around four feet in width, and around twenty feet in height. Protruding from the walls like black, misshapen teeth were hundreds of fist-sized stones, long leftover from the erosion process. Like the other passageways, this too, was flooded with a few inches of water. I strained my eyes, attempting to see where this new path would lead me. My headlamp was just bright enough to illuminate another ledge at the very end of the canyon. I started forward, but as I did it became increasingly clear that the water was getting deeper; At a quarter of the way through it was nearly to the top of my knee-high boots. Deep water is one of the many hazards present while traversing a cave, and since I was alone, one misstep could bring about dire consequences. Curiosity trumping all regard for personal safety, I opted to continue my trek forward.
Carefully maintaining three points of contact between my body and the stone walls at all times, I hoisted myself up the canyon wall and began to shimmy forward over the water. The process was tedious and I could only clear a few inches at a time. After a few minutes of carefully moving, I had made enough progress to get within fifteen feet of the passage. As I attempted to gain footing on a nearby outcrop, my headlamp slipped off my helmet and plunged into the black water with a sickening splash, reverberating throughout the dark chamber. Dammit–why hadn’t I taken more care to secure my light?? In my initial bliss, I had forgotten just how dangerous caves could be. I watched helplessly as my primary light source drifted down into the murky depths, until I was left in total blackness.
In the vacuum of space there are stars. In a dark bedroom there is a sliver of light under the door. Underground, there is nothing, no light to speak of. There is nothing on the surface to compare it to, as below the earth there is truly an absence of all but darkness and silence. This was my current reality as I grasped onto the cold, damp walls for dear life, unable to see even an inch in front of me. As I clung there in the darkness, desperately wedged into the cave wall over an unknown depth of water, I became cognizant of each and every sound around me; or in this case, lack of sound. Aside from the occasional drip-drip-drop of water and the pounding of my heart in my chest, it was silent as a crypt. In that moment it became clear just how astronomically alone I was. If something were to happen to me down here, no one would be able to come to my rescue, or potentially, find my body. After what seemed like forever I was finally able to catch my breath. Still mildly shaken, I slowly brought a hand up in preparation of activating my backup lamp.
From deep within the passage ahead, I heard a stone clattering across the floor.
I froze. What the hell was that? My heart began to beat faster and a lump started to form in my throat. For a moment, I let my imagination run unchecked; frantic thoughts of wild animals–or worse–were churned up; I could hear the vicious snarls of a startled pack of coyotes. I imagined the bellowing roar of an angry, charging bear. But as quickly as they came, these thoughts were swiftly dismissed. After all, this was deep enough underground that coyotes and bear would not make a den, and moreover, the water acted as a natural barrier from the outside world. In fact, it now occurred to me that I may be about to step into a place where no living creature had existed in hundreds of thousands of years. This was an important discovery, and I wouldn’t let the fear of boogeymen from my childhood carry over with my fantasies of discovery. I stayed put for a few more minutes, straining my ears for any semblance of sound. When I determined it was safe, I resumed switching on my backup headlamp.
Though not nearly as bright as my main lamp, I felt at immediate ease as the warm light flooded back into the chamber around me. I reluctantly chalked up the disquieting sound to a stray rock falling loose from the ceiling, and deemed it safe to continue my journey. I resumed my ascent over the water until I reached the ledge at the end of the chamber. For the first time since entering the cave, my boots touched dry land, a minor victory after the setback I had just encountered.
I took a moment to inspect my new surroundings. The new passage was unlike the ones before; no more were there magnificent earthen formations or crystalline droplets of water. There was only cold, suffocating stone and a tunnel descending further down than my feeble light could reach. This sudden change in scenery dampened the mood and filled me with chilling apprehension. Still, I’d not come all this way just to turn around.
The way down was not easy–it was cramped and rather steep toward the latter part of my five minute descent. The passage coiled and twisted deeper into the earth to a depth I had not expected for such a cave system. Then, the small tunnel seemed to stop, abruptly. What were once enclosed walls now opened up to a depth and height my fairly weak light could not reach.
I gingerly stepped out into the massive room, my light illuminating only a small area around me. Strewn about the stone floor were sticks and other debris, presumably washed in from the last heavy storm. Boulders the size of compact cars were scattered about the cavern, and spanned as far as my light could touch. As incredible as this chamber was, a distinct feeling of discomfort began to creep into the back of my mind. The hairs began to stand up on the nape of my neck. I felt vulnerable, and ultimately decided it would be more secure if I stayed close to a wall. Quickly I found one, and gingerly began to walk the expanse of the cavern. As I did, I was able to get a closer look at all the debris.
These weren’t sticks. The ground was littered with bones.
They looked centuries, even millennia old; some had even taken on a dull brown patina as they began to fossilize. Many bones appeared to be from livestock and other large mammals, but some I definitely recognized as human. Cautiously, I approached the remains of what looked to be a very dated human skeleton. The fur cloak it had once wore had all but rotted into dessicated scraps, and a primitive hunting spear was lying only a few feet away. It’s skull was violently fractured in several places and many of the bones had been severely splintered. Had I come upon some antiquated burial chamber?
Rather than the sheer ecstasy of discovery I should have felt, I was choked up with a staggering feeling of unease. I was somewhere I did not belong, somewhere incredibly ancient and powerful. The unease turned to mild fear, when I began to detect a putrid odor emanating deeper within the cavern.
I pleaded with myself; I could leave now, and return with a team of professionals. Surely that would calm my nerves? No. This was my discovery. After years of restlessness, I was finally here, and had earned every shred of credit for it by braving the present darkness alone. This was my destiny. My body fought my brain with every step, but I pressed on further into the darkness, all the while, the foul stench beginning to grow. I shielded my face from the intensifying malodor, and as I did, my boots collided with something soft with a sickening thud. I gradually lowered my gaze to the ground before me;
When I was home for winter break from college a few years ago, I was charged with caring for several quails my roommates and I had kept as pets over the semester. One evening, I neglected to return their cage to my garage before nightfall. When I awoke, I discovered a ghastly scene; what remained of my pets was a ghastly mess of blood, intestines, and feathers. Being non-native birds, I always found it unpleasant to think about how my pets met their grisly fate by a ravenous predator they did not so much as recognize. Though ultimately the whole scene would turn my stomach, it would pale in comparison to what lay before me.
At my feet was the carcass of what remained of a large stag, lying in a pool of deep crimson viscera. What little fur it had left was patchy and caked in blood. The skin around it’s face and snout had been torn away, exposing chunks of rotting meat and slivers of bone. The body cavity had been all but hollowed out, with entrails scattered about the floor like an atrocious mural, the blank stone being its gruesome canvas. I averted my gaze from the macabre sight as I began to wretch. My knees buckled under me as I crumpled to the cavern floor, covered in my own sick. The foul stench of rot permeating through my nostrils subdued me with a feeling of overwhelming dread. I needed to leave–now. With adrenaline coursing through me, I was able to shakily rise to my feet and scan my surroundings for the exit. Discovery or not, it was time to find my way out of this abominable place. I glanced back at the mutilated stag. In my initial repulsion and confusion, I had not noticed it before; Trailing off into the darkness were several pairs of deformed bloody prints.
“Oh God…”, I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes. There was something down here with me.
I began carefully retreating to the exit, never once turning my back to the gore in front of me, or the endless darkness that seemed to swell with every passing moment. I felt violently ill and my heart was pounding so hard in my chest that I was becoming dizzy. My light fell across a massive boulder that had collapsed from the cavern ceiling millennia before. It stood, looming over me, like a great stone beast, preparing to pounce.Why had I come down here? Why couldn’t I just let the past die? As I scanned the room once more, my head snapped back to the large rock, now just beyond the edge of the light. My head was pounding, and my brain was screaming as to alert me to the scene before me; something was horribly wrong, but what? At last, I saw it;
A hand. A pale and gnarled hand was wrapped around the side of the boulder. The malformed, pallid digits seemed to reflect light in a way that made them seem glossy and slick. I must have let out an audible gasp, because suddenly, from behind the rock there came a low, malicious hissing, like gas escaping a balloon, followed by a slow and rhythmic clicking. The two sounds seemed to overlay one another, creating a sinister symphony seemingly impossible for any natural creature to produce. Then, as if in slow motion I watched as the source of the odious din emerged from concealment and into view. I found myself face to face with something I could not quite comprehend.
At first glance, it appeared to be human; It lacked all forms of hair, and possessed perversely long forelimbs, which contorted unnaturally in front of its pale, skeletal body. I was unable to move, breathe, or scream as I gazed upon its ungodly visage.
“The eyes. My God, where were its eyes?”
Aside from a gaping black maw, the abomination had no features to speak of. Furrowed folds of deadened and sagging skin now resided where eyes once must have been. The nose was no more than a cavernous socket in the center of its twisted face. It hunched at the edge of the darkness, cocking its head from side to side, gnashing together its jaws, which were lined with rows of sharp, yellowing, and jagged teeth.
Then, on all fours, the creature began to crawl toward me, keeping just outside the cone of light my headlamp created, all the while making the loathsome clicking noise. As it skulked forward I was made aware of several more twisted silhouettes slinking out from the darkness, their warped and jerky movements casting abhorrent shadows across the cavern walls and floor. Though their grotesque forms seemed alien, a sense of sickening familiarity seemed to smother me. I may not have recognized these abominations, but something buried deep within my primordial brain did, and it instilled me with a terror older than humanity itself.
I turned and fled into the darkness, frantically seeking my path to escape. A cacophony of unnatural bellows erupted around me, shaking the cavern walls as I ran. I passed the remains of prey from a bygone era, the brittle bones rendering to dust under my heavy footfall. Would I suffer the same gruesome fate as them? Thrusting myself up into the tunnel, I felt the course stones lacerate my bare hands as I wildly attempted to scrambled up the passage, bizarre and twisted cries echoing behind me all the while.
I reached the small canyon and jumped, plunging headfirst into the icy black water, jagged rocks piercing and tearing my flesh as I fell. I felt a particularly sharp rock catch me right below my hairline as I thrashed about in the murky pool. From behind me, I could hear several more splashes and the horrible sound of clicking, as stagnant, bitter water stung my mouth and nose. I desperately grasped at the protruding rocks to propel myself from the water and away from whatever those monstrosities were. I felt helpless as I ran, like a wounded animal waiting to be torn apart by the beasts which quarried me. My ears rang and my vision blurred from the freshly bleeding wound on my head, but I staggered forward through the tunnels in despondent hope that I would escape with my life.
I thrust my broken body past the stalactites, now hanging menacingly like the fangs of some massive beast. The once alluring sparkle of water on the ceiling now reflected a deep crimson in the light, foreshadowing what was to come. No longer was this place my life’s calling, it was my tomb. The hissing grew closer. How could I have been so naive? For almost a decade I thought of this cave as mine. My own discovery, my own little contribution to the world, my subterranean kingdom. But it wasn’t mine, it never had been–it was theirs. It was theirs long before me, and it would be theirs long after my bones had turned to dust in this wretched place. My pursuers were close behind: I could feel their fevered, rancid breath on the nape of my neck. I imagined their malformed, decrepit hands outstretched, poised to grab my legs and drag me back into the sunless chasm below. I turned a corner, and for the first time in hours, I saw a glint of sunlight, sparkling just out of reach. I barreled toward my literal “light at the end of the tunnel” as the ravenous hissing and clicking thundered close behind. I scrambled up the mound of stones and to my freedom.
At last, I burst to the surface; the earlier clouds had broken and the warm light of day bathed me in a brilliant halo of temporary relief. I had begun hoisting myself to freedom when I felt a searing pain in my left calf. I found myself being wrenched back into the hole, to my presumably bloody and disturbing demise. Frantically plunging my fingers into the soil above I thrashed about until my boot met flesh with a loud clunk! The creature let out an unearthly shriek, and loosened its grasp long enough for me to jettison myself out of the foul pit and onto my feet.
Though I did not dare to glance back as I sprinted to the treeline, I knew They could not pursue me under the blazing afternoon sun. Mankind ruled the day, while these abominations lived and hunted in ancient darkness. Completely abandoning my gear, I crashed through the forest until I reached my car. I jammed my keys into the ignition and peeled out of the parking lot, away from that horrible swamp and the monsters that lurked below.
I don’t remember getting home that evening, or collapsing on my front porch as my mother came out to greet me. I don’t remember being rushed to the emergency room, but when I awoke in the hospital bed, my wounds had all been treated. I received nine stitches in my head and fifteen on my upper back. Upon further examination, it was discovered that besides my miscellaneous cuts and bruises I had two cracked ribs and three deep gashes on my left calf, origin unknown.
When the examiners asked just what happened to me I lied and stated I’d startled a coyote while exploring its den. After a stern lecture from both the doctors and my mother on the dangers of caving alone, I was released, and we were able to return home. The medical report was concluded as an “Animal Attack”.
As we pulled into my driveway I watched the last crimson rays of sunlight sink below the trees. I thought of our ancestors, from aeons ago, and the abysmal terrors they faced in the endless obsidian night.
We claim absolute dominion over the earth, labelling discoveries and landmarks as our own. We strip the land bare, and pollute the sky with our artificial light, but we have it very wrong– we are not the dominant species. There are unspeakable horrors in the darkness below, all but forgotten to the races of man. The longer we drive them deeper into the earth, the more restless they become. Someday, when we have drained mother nature for all she can give us and our lights are inevitably extinguished, we will become prey once again.