The shadows roiled. Stretched and coiled. They reached out for Autumn, devouring her whole as she crawled through their gloom. Lantern light spilled from Autumn’s outstretched hand like an anglerfish's lure. It illuminated the tunnel of stone harshly, casting the sand and rocky walls in a stark glow.

Autumn crawled through the dust and sand, hand over hand, in a search of the lost key. She hoped it was here. That a mountain of stone hadn’t buried it. That it’d lead her through the labyrinth of time to vaunted safety.

Silence cut like a knife. It sliced through the membrane of thought, cutting its razor-edge along her mind. The skittering bite of paranoia and shadow-borne delusions gnawed at her mind like an animal. Was it just her imagination that birthed the writhing darkness? Or something more? Did something lurk in the shadows with her? Something that crawled? Devoured? Gnawed and bit?

Naught spake in silence’s wake. Only the breathing of a witch sounded in the dark. Harsh and rough, her struggles through the tight corridor echoed through the crumbling tunnel.

Heartbeats resounded. Thunder in the deep. They boomed loud in her ears, in her throat, her mind, her soul. Rapid and frightful, like a rabbit. All around her, the cage of stone pressed. Heavy weight to press her mind beneath dread. Still, she continued deeper.

Tighter, the walls crept. Far too close. Too suffocating.

Autumn hadn’t thought herself easily frightened by enclosed spaces. Claustrophobia had never soured her mind before now. In her grief and heartbreak, she’d sought such spaces. Let the comfort of warm blankets and secluded nooks whisk her away from the world and all its torment, even for a moment. A gift of ignorance to drive away the hauntings of death. However, here proved her comfort false. For there was no soothing to be found in the rocky, dust and sand-filled passage.

It was but a lure to the dread-beat in her heart.

Her hat drank greedily.

As her heart flooded her magical reserves with supple terror, Autumn calmed herself with shallow breaths, mindful of the dust cloying the air. It swirled in great handfuls every time she moved. Rocks scratched at her clothed skin as she delved. Light pale flooded the passage. Under its glow, her flesh twisted beneath her snowy skin.

Revulsion surged at the sight. Autumn’s throat soured, but she steeled herself, fighting through the nausea and twisting sensations with arguable success. It was not the first time. As soon as she’d passed through the doorway into this collapsed chamber, magic broken and sundered had settled upon her body most foul. Outwardly, she appeared fine, and her mind lay unburdened, but beneath the surface, her guts twisted like writhing snakes.

The sooner Autumn fled this place, the better.

Hopefully, the magic left her as well.

Autumn shook off the dreadful sensations as best she could, focusing back on her crawl. It felt like hours passed her by. The tunnel weaved through the fallen rock randomly. At some points, Autumn ended up having to squeeze herself through gaps just barely larger than herself, or take tight U-turns that left her facing back the way she’d come, only to do so again in another direction. She felt rather disorientated. All the while, the stones pressed heavier and heavier on her mind.

Sometimes, Autumn lamented her bravery. Or at least her selflessness. As she squeezed through the tight gaps that pinched her, she wondered if someone else, someone smaller than her, would’ve been a better pick to traverse this claustrophobia. Maybe Pyre? Or Eme?

The idea sat poorly in her gut. Of sending either into this place, potentially never to be seen again. Perhaps it was better that she braved it. For her anxiety, at the very least.

Autumn breathed out a sigh; the things she did for friendship.

Further into the tunnel, she traveled. And after great struggle, and much swearing, Autumn arrived near where she thought the center of the room lay. There, an obstacle barred her path — a great stone ponderously blocked her way like a cork in a wine bottle.

“Fuck,” Autumn swore. Her hot, ragged breath heated the air. Sweat dripped down her brow.

Leaning forward, she pressed her face to the cold stone and put her eye to a gap between it and the tunnel’s wall. Light from her ring spilled into the hollow beyond. Something within glinted. The key? Backing away from the blocking stone, Autumn peered at the obstruction.

“I hope it’s not load-bearing or something.”

A shiver rolled down her spine at the thought. Too bad her black water portal was out of action. It’d make this so much easier.

Autumn placed her hands upon the stone and buried her feet in the sand, catching the stone beneath with her leather boots. She heaved. Sweat poured down her back as she pushed upon the stone. Her shoulder found its way to the rock as she moved forward, pushing with great heaves.

Inch by inch, the capstone moved.

Small rocks tumbled loose as the rock moved to fall upon the witch’s back. Despite the ache and discomfort, she continued pushing. Slowly but surely, the dark-eyed witch heaved the rock out of the tunnel and rolled it aside. Her arms shook. Her body gasped for stale air. As she regained herself, Autumn looked up and out into the hollow she found before her.

She froze. Her heart leapt into her throat. Before her, inches from her face, sat a black scorpion. Its stinger’d tail held high. Pincers snipped at the hot breaths that disturbed the cool sand before it.

Autumn swallowed tightly, paling as the scorpion raised its tail higher. Lowly, she spoke.

“Go away, you blasted thing. Leave me alone.”

It cared little for her words. Higher rose its venom sting.

Dark eyes narrowed.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Autumn said quietly.

With eyes locked upon the lone invertebrate, she drew from her well of magic. Like she’d done once before to fend off the bite of a rainforest’s insects, Autumn cloaked herself in a small veil of fear. Just enough to scare the tiny creature’s tiny mind. It drew back instinctively as the shallow wave of terror washed over it. On spindly legs, it skittered away across the hidden dunes, disappearing deeper in the gloom.

Autumn watched it go with a smirk. “Heh, serves you right.” Looking back to the chamber, she let out a swear as her eyes fell upon a grinning skull that the scorpion had hidden from her sight. “Motherfuck!”

Thankfully, this one seemed to neither move nor talk.

Placing a hand on her racing heart, Autumn glowered at the skull. “Jerk. Scaring me like that. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

It didn’t reply. Ivory white, it rested in the sand.

Autumn examined the skeleton in full. Fallen stones had crushed the tomb robber long ago, entombing it within this tomb within a tomb. Its lower half lay pinned beneath a section of the ceiling. Moldy leathers clad the skeletal frame. Atop its bare crown sat a hat, wide of brim like that of a cowboy’s. A jacket, equally frayed and decayed, girded their empty ribcage. At their hip sat an old, weather-worn whip.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

The skeleton’s arms were outstretched, reaching towards a broken, empty pillar before it. No. Not a pillar; an altar. In one hand, it held a bag of sand while the other clutched tightly around that which glimmered in the dark. A key. The key.

Peering closer, Autumn saw it was a necklace. A silver chain and setting wound around a black gemstone; an onyx.

The sight buoyed Autumn’s mood. Hurriedly, she scrambled her way out of the tight tunnel and into the larger hollow. Her good mood quickly soured as the gritty grains of sand swiftly found their way into her mouth. She spat and cursed as she staggered to her feet, brushing the clinging grains from herself. She hated sand; it got everywhere.

Rudely, the skeleton ignored her plight.

Finishing her complaining, Autumn looked around the chamber she found herself with greater interest. It was rather grand, in a natural disaster kinda way. Rubble loomed overhead, compacted into a broken dome that looked rather unstable to Autumn’s eye. Every so often, a loose stone of a stream of sand would fall from the ceiling down into the hollow. If she listened closely, she could hear the storm raging outside as it sent its tendrils of wind whistling through the cracks. Haunting wails from a world beyond.

Once more, Autumn swallowed tightly. She cast her gaze away from the ceiling and glanced around the room, looking for any other passages out. There were none.

A dead end.

Autumn looked back to the behatted skeleton. She strode over gently, boots slipping in the sand. Upon reaching it, she knelt before the dead tomb robber and reached out for the silvery necklace glittering in her lantern light. The skeleton’s bony fingers broke like dry kindling as she tore her prize free from its clutches.

“Sorry,” Autumn said with a wince. “But I, and my friends, need this more than you.”

Under the glow of her light, Autumn turned the key over in her fingers, admiring the onyx gemstone. Too bad she couldn’t keep it; the necklace looked rather pretty. And expensive. As she sat on her heels, a sound began to build. Louder and louder, it grew, until it drowned out the wail of the wind.

It sounded like thousands of chitinous legs scrambling against stone.

Autumn tucked the key away in her pouch quickly as she spun around. Before her eyes, a tide of black poured out of the walls, spilling over the sand like oil, staining the canvas black. Sharp pincers snipped the air. Tails bedecked in curved stingers stabbed. While they were no larger than her foot, there had to be thousands, tens of thousands of them.

The scorpion she’d frightened away had returned. And it brought friends. A lot of friends.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” Autumn cursed.

Autumn scrambled back towards the tunnel, heart thundering in her chest. Her boots slipped through the sand and stones as she ran. From within the sheath hidden in her vambrace, she withdrew her ivory wand and brandished it towards the oncoming tide. Her own tide of violence lashed out towards them, cascading down the amassed lines. Skittering limbs and pinching pincers were torn asunder.

Grand holes appeared amidst the black-army. But the arachnids reformed swiftly, closing the gaps. Through her hellish barrage, they pushed. Soldiers with bayonets in hand. The dread-swarm rushed, raging towards the intruder in their domain of lightlessness.

Like a blot of ink spilled upon a page, the swarm stained the ground further.

Autumn’s heart continued to thunder in chest like a drum. A rhythm of dread. Haste filled her limbs as she crossed the sands, urging her on. Her boots slipped on the loose sand. Ahead of her, a cadre of scorpions rose from the sand to bar her path. A dozen so. Stingers flashed deadly through the air.

A snarl feral appeared upon the witch’s lips. After all she’d been through, all she’d endured, she’d not be stopped by some bugs. Arachnids, whatever.

Leveling her wand upon the black-clad menaces, she sent a series of forceful blasts their way, spattering their bodies across the rocks and sand. The stomp of her boots upon them was perhaps unnecessary, excessive even, but it felt good. Above her, the ceiling rumbled ominously in the wake of her spells, sending loose stones tumbling down.

Autumn continued towards her tunnel. The footprints she left behind were quickly filled by the black-tide.

Upon reaching the tunnel, Autumn spun around. She knew she’d never fit through the tunnel with the horde hot on her heels. She needed to make herself some breathing room. Cinders danced upon her lips. A word. One not yet spoken coiled in her lungs.

“Burn!” Autumn yelled out.

Pain; a dull ache. A familiar friend. Magic raced through her mind, her body, her soul.

Bright sparks spilled forth from her, scattering across the carpet of writhing black. The front ranks of the arachnid army burned away in an instant, filling the air with the scent of cooking flesh and the sound of wailing pops like wet popcorn exploding.

Autumn gagged. Bile souring her senses.

Yet, for all the hell she unleashed upon them, the tide still came. They crawled over their burned kin, undaunted. Could they even feel the fear she radiated buried beneath their animalistic fury? Beneath their desire to sting and bite?

On came the black tide.

“Burn!”

Another word, another wave of cinders.

Fire and pain.

Heat filled the air. Every breath Autumn took felt like she’d inhaled a sun. She glanced around frantically in the lull she’d brought; she couldn’t keep this up forever. Licking her crimson-stained lips, the sound of wailing wind drew her eyes high. Heat cracked the rocks above. Small stones continued to fall like heavy snow as the echo of combat shook them loose.

An idea, terrible as it was ill-thought-out, flashed suddenly through Autumn’s mind. Her eyes widened in incredulous disbelief, as if even she couldn’t believe what she was about to do.

Turning away from the oncoming horde of skittering black, Autumn raised her wand of bone high and screamed spells of force into existence. The violet light slammed into the ceiling like a giant’s fist. The loosely held collection of broken masonry, rubble, and compacted sand that made up the domed ceiling shuddered. Cracked. Then fell.

Autumn yelped and dived for the tunnel.

The army of scorpions only had a moment of stark terror before a mountain of rock and sand crushed them.

Hidden in her tunnel beneath her glowing spell-shield, Autumn’s world became naught but dust and the roar of falling stone. She screamed. The lion’s roar of a collapsing tomb drowned out her fright. Darkness threatened to consume her. Bleakness ate at her mind.

Yet, in the darkness, light.

Upon her finger, the Ferryman’s ring shone brightly. It drove back the shades and shadows, sending them scurrying away from the hunched form of Autumn. They hissed and bayed, lost to their queen of dread once more.

Before long, the thundering ceased. As too did the thundering of her heart. Autumn withdrew her tight fingers from her ears and listened to the haunting silence only broken by a lone shifting of rubble. Before her eyes lay a wall of collapsed stone beyond her glowing protections. Tonnes of rock pressed down on her, more literally this time.

Autumn breathed a sigh of relief. One that turned to harsh coughing as dust filled her lungs.

In the far distance, she could faintly hear concerned shouting muffled by the rock.

“I’m okay!” she coughed out, hoping the others heard her. “I’m okay!” she shouted louder. She regretted not weaving a mind worm — she still hated the name — into one of her friend’s mind.

A glance back the way she’d come, towards the others, showed only collapsed rock there as well. Autumn sighed. With her shadow-walk/black-water-travel out of action — she’d checked — all she could do was dig her way back through her half-remembered path. Thankfully, with her belt of holding at her disposal to stash away the smaller rocks, and her shield to hold the heaviest of them up, she slowly made her way back to the others. Albeit slowly.

It felt like several hours had passed before Autumn emerged from the tunnel. The others had met her half-way, Edwyn having excavated and shored up what they could of the collapsed tunnel. Autumn pursed her lips. She should’ve asked for a few of those runes.

Rough hands startled her from her thoughts. Nethlia helped Autumn to her feet and led her out of the tunnel back into the central chamber that’d housed the dead wyrmling. Thankfully, the sensation of her guts tying themselves into knots faded as she did.

“What was that?” Autumn asked, realizing Nethlia had asked her something while she was distracted.

“I asked if you were hurt,” Nethlia repeated herself. She patted Autumn down, brushing the stone dust off her as she searched the witch for injuries. Autumn bore her attention with tired grace. “What happened in there? All we heard was the place suddenly collapsing. I thought the worst.”

Autumn grimace, favoring Nethlia and the others with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. There was a load of scorpions in there. I had to do something to escape.”

“By collapsing the room?” Nethlia asked, incredulously.

“There were a lot of them. And fire didn’t cut it,” Autumn said. Stifling a yawn, she reached into her belt and withdrew the silver and onyx necklace. “On the plus side, I found the key. I just hope we don’t need to return that way.”

The sound of the room collapsing further punctuated her statement. She winced.

Nethlia chuckled, shaking her head in amusement now that she was sure Autumn was alright. “Let’s hope not. Do you know which door this one unlocks?”

“Yup. I think it goes to the clay room. The northern door. It had a necklace-shaped recess when I checked it.”

“Shall we then? And do try not to collapse the next room, please.”

Autumn pouted.