The new employees of The Righteous Anglian Mining Company of Our Lady’s Hallowed Earth were left alone on the cavern floor, holding their pickaxes, shovels and lamps. They watched as the lift rose up out of sight and left them in the heavy shadow of the cave. Other than the steady glow of their lamps, the only light was the weird bluish glow beyond the chapel that turned the dark into a twilit gloom.

One girl, at about the age of seventeen or eighteen years old, appeared to be one of the eldest of the group. She shut her eyes and muttered a prayer while she hugged a younger, smaller girl who wept into her shoulder.

The oldest looking boy struck a match and lit another lantern. He passed it to the girl who prayed and patted her shoulder.

‘Here, take a light,’ he said in a kind voice. The other three miners took up their lanterns and looked about with fearful expressions at the cavern about them.

‘What did she mean about things that go bump in the night?’ asked one miner as he looked about with apprehension.

They listened to the sound of water that trickled down the rock face, or pattered down like rain. There were scuttles and scratches of what they hoped were merely rodents, the occasional echo of loose pebbles falling, and the noise of an underground river that thundered somewhere.

The area in which they were left had a damp-rotted bridge that crossed an unfathomable, black chasm. There were derelict shacks that leaned-to or had collapsed and a well-trodden pathway marked out by whitewashed rails that could barely be seen in the shadow. There were heaps of discarded litter, scree and broken tools. Timber scaffolding on some cavern walls had become host to a range of plant and fungal life that fed on its remains.

‘When we arrived at the Company we were in the same training, but as we weren’t allowed to speak, I still don’t know anyone’s name,’ the older looking boy said. ‘I’m Dale, who are you?’

Dale held up his lamp to look around the rest of the group. He was the only one among them who could possibly be considered a young adult. He was old enough to have a developing moustache, and was the second tallest beside the girl next to him.

‘Aisling,’ the tall girl gave a curt, surly reply. She had a strong build, short, straw-coloured hair and freckles around her nose and cheeks.

‘I’m Irene,’ the older girl stopped praying to make her reply. She still comforted the younger girl, who wept into her shoulder. Irene’s accent sounded strange to the others, and hard to place. She had lively, flowing hair that seemed to want to break free from the bun that reined it in. In her almond-shaped face, Irene had bright, almost wild looking eyes, which seemed to shine with each movement in the dark.

‘This is Flora. We weren’t supposed to talk before, but we worked around that,’ Irene gestured to the girl she cradled.

The girl introduced as Flora nodded, sniffed and wiped a tear. She trembled as she hung on to Irene. Flora had a young, childlike appearance and long, bright blonde hair.

‘My name’s Zachary,’ a short, slender boy said. It was hard to place his age, but the first wisps of facial hair were beginning to show on his upper lip and chin. ‘I can’t believe this is happening to us. How can this wicked company get away with it? This is criminal!’ Zachary’s voice was high, with a sing-song, theatrical tone.

‘Percy. I-I’m Percy,’ the next boy stammered as attention turned to him. Like Zachary, he too was small and skinny. Percy had a head of large, dark curls and intense, restless eyes that seemed to scan every detail around him without pause, but would not meet the others’ gaze.

‘Good to meet you, shame about the circumstances,’ Dale said. He looked at each of the group in turn and spoke in a reasonable, matter-of-fact kind of way that gave some reassurance. ‘Anyone done any mining before? Can’t say I have either. Before I was picked up by the workhouse I was a groundkeeper’s assistant for a stately home. Until it burnt down.’

‘I was a theatre stage hand,’ said Zachary. ‘The acting lead was a pompous swine and he always picked on me. Until one of my counterweights dropped on him. Oops!’ Zachary rolled his eyes.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

‘I was a housekeeper, until I got caught pocketing leftover food that I was supposed to throw away. They gave me the sack,’ said Irene, with a sad, bitter voice.

‘I tended plants in a politician’s greenhouse,’ Flora said, in a small, choked voice.

‘One day he was convicted of embezzlement and fraud and was voted out. All the staff were laid off, because he couldn’t pay us no more.’

‘I was a chimney sweep,’ said Jack. ‘The other boys bullied me out of the street I worked so they didn’t have to share, and stole my equipment. I was near starved when the Company picked me up.’

The group looked round to Aisling, the only one left who hadn’t shared her story.

‘What’s it to you?’ Aisling growled.

‘Alright, how about we shift this stuff to the chapel?’ Dale suggested.

Together, they loaded supplies onto a mossy, damp-slimed cart. They discovered that the wheels wouldn’t move, rotted together as they were, so, they had to unload it again and haul the goods by hand.

When they came to it, they saw that the chapel was a crumbling ruin.

A rough dry stone wall stood in a tumble down mess around the central building. Most tiles were missing from the building’s roof, and cracks ran down its walls.

For the most part, the chapel seemed to be held together by the ivy that wrapped itself around the stones, along with much moss and lichen.

‘Oh no!’ Irene exclaimed, at the sight of the filthy interior. ‘We can’t live like this. It’s filled with old broken things! There’s coal, bones, bits of wood… and so many spider webs! There’s creepy-crawlies everywhere!’

Aisling ran a hand through her hair and swore in dismay.

‘There’s weeds, fungus and potatoes on the floor. They’ve even sprouted! Oh it smells awful,’ Flora cried, with her hands over her nose.

‘This won’t do! This won’t do at all! I’ll demand that they let us back up. I refuse to live like this!’ Zachary proclaimed.

Zachary threw down his supplies and made as if to storm out. Dale caught his arm and held Zachary back.

Percy tip-toed around the debris inside the building.

Percy muttered in disgust as he brushed cobwebs from his face. ‘Look at this,’ he remarked. He crouched low to illuminate the floor with his lamp.

‘There’s tracks going through the dust, and here’s a turnip head that’s been sliced; it’s still fresh; someone’s just been here. The ashes are still warm, but they’ve been doused in some kind of stew, or soup,’ Percy muttered.

With hesitation, the others came in to look.

‘Maybe they’re still here,’ said Flora with a trembling voice. The others listened, but there was only the sound of dripping water, the scratching of rodents and other things with many more legs.

The workers circled the outside of the building. The chapel itself was on a section of rock that was raised from the rest of the cavern floor, like a hillock. It had a full view of the shimmering light, and now they were this close, they could see the cranes that reached up into it.

Irene gave an exclamation of surprise. ‘My God, I thought that was a body handing from a gallows over there!’

Hand holding her chest, Irene pointed at the sack hanging from a crane. She closed her eyes and began to pray again.

The new workers made a tour around the chapel, and inspected the disintegrating stone wall. Within the boundary of the wall was a collection of rough gravestones.

‘I don’t like the look of this. I count half a dozen of these poor wretches. I dread to think what happened to them!’ said Zachary, as he peered at each stone piece.

‘I can barely read the names. They must be only memorial stones. There aren’t any bodies buried here,’ Percy replied.

From the chapel were pathways that led back to the dropping point of the lift. They led off to the cranes or on other routes that were signposted as iron ore pits.

Flora yelped in surprise as a large rat dashed into the shadows from under her foot. She screamed as she turned a corner and came face to face with Zachary.

Zachary screamed alike and dropped his lamp.

‘Flora, you scared the daylights out of me!’ Zachary scolded. ‘Help me find this lamp. It’s gone out. I think it’s broken.’

After a while, with all the chapel grounds investigated, the workers gathered at the doorway to report back what they saw.

‘Nothing,’ said Irene.

‘Whoever it was, they’re not here anymore,’ said Dale.

‘Must’ve been a ghost,’ said Percy, with a dry, sarcastic tone.

‘Don’t say such daft bloody things! Aisling snapped at him.

‘I don’t think ghosts eat turnip stew,’ said Irene in a scathing voice, also. ‘Also, now’s not the time to joke about stuff like that.’

‘Maybe it’s what they meant, when they said things go bump in the night,’ Percy said. ‘

Percy placed both hands together in prayer. ‘Our father, who art in heaven…’

‘That’s not helpful, Percy. Knock it off,’ Dale retorted.

At that point, a movement caught the group’s eye from beyond the stone wall, as a shadow separated from between two stalagmites.

A collective gasp went around the group as the shadow rose from a crouch to a standing position.

The dim lights illuminated a lifeless, metal face with an uneven, black-eyed glare. The workers were rooted to the spot; speechless; at the sight of the apparition that moved towards them. It then it took a breath and addressed the group.

‘It’s alright, you can settle down.’ The figure’s voice was rough and cracked in tone. It was muffled by the iron helmet but felt aggressive, and ominous.

‘I’ve been watching you since you arrived.’ The figure intoned. ‘I wanted to see who the Company sent down,’ the figure said, and rolled its shoulders. Several cracks could be heard throughout the air.

‘I’m Henry.’ The figure’s statement was less of an introduction, and more of a challenge.