Pines twisted and cracked their brittle limbs as the wind whispered, to the stream gurgled, to the fireflies

winced, at the fog crawling in from my breath is the fog, my eyes the fireflies, my voice: the wind, my hands:

the pines that twisted and cracked their brittle limbs as the wind called them away from me. The stones

became walls and a doorway to a place deep down beneath the forest floor.

A light within a lantern quivered at the breeze. I screamed, bellowed – my voice carried with the wind. The fog

grew thick and obscured my dim surroundings and my flame grew dimmer, and I screamed, my voice carried

with the wind.

I blinked and saw nothing

I blinked and saw a struggle between embers

I blinked and saw a face

I blinked and saw a face in the dark

Standing right there

It was standing right there

I imagined moving my head. I imagined curling my fingertips.

Cold hands, bloodied eyes, heavy, my limbs, can’t move, a face, the cave, my fear, beneath –

A voice groaned in the distance

the world began to shake...

...strange, hideous face in the dark

“I’m over here”

I blinked again and it was gone

“I’m over here”

A voice whispered in the distance

“I’m over here”

I could hear it clearly, just to my left

“I’m over here”