Untitled – 3

Aldo’s clients came to him because they saw something different in his work. Each building stood apart, showed itself to be completely unrelated to any of his previous projects, grounded in their local context and all together reaching near perfection. Aldo was very picky about who he worked with. Each potential client went through a rigorous testing and interview process to determine whether they would be a fit for him. He carefully separated the wheat from the chaff, eliminating anyone who showed a hint of being interested in him for the attention or status and cutting out anyone who didn’t truly understand or believe in him or his process. After all, he would sometimes go years without speaking with a client once the project had begun. That was why it was imperative for him to find people who identified with what he was doing and were still willing to fund the project though he would disappear for the greater part of a year. They had to see it was that solitude by the lake which allowed him to achieve such excellence in all his work.

Upon his arrival at the lake house every fall, he would find pallets upon pallets of building materials stacked outside his workshop. Multiple species of lumber, stones from various quarries, various types of glass, concrete mix, and anything related to the current project vernacular. All these materials would serve in his experiments, testing how elements could be put together, what arrangements worked best, and what didn’t. By the end of each of these lake house trips, he would have a series of mockups in his workshop, all of which would be torn down when he left, but he usually left with a grasp of what direction the design needed to take.

Untitled – 2

His name was Aldo, which he felt he hadn’t quite lived up to yet. When he spent time in Spain they tended to pronounce his name Alto, of which he also didn’t quite fit the definition, being relatively average in stature. He would always accept the name for how it was said, knowing, either way, he had a distance to travel to meet the meaning behind it.

Aldo was always looked at in wonderment by the design community. It had become such unusual behavior, to disappear for those long stretches, locked up, away from everything, to return months later, unannounced and usually accompanied by a new design unlike anything seen before. Noone knew where Aldo went during these stints. SOme of his students tried following him once, speeding behin him in their car. They soon lost him when Aldo stopped to eat at a country diner and the students had too much to drink at the pub across the way.

With these trips, there remained an air of mystery attached to the figure of Aldo, yet to be unraveled by his fans and critics. Continuous speculation never hit on the simplicity of the truth. For Aldo, these hermetic episodes were all he could do to carry on the thing he loved most in life. It was the only real way he could clear the noise from the air and achieve bliss from pure work.

Untitled – 1

The months leading up to winter were when the lake was at its finest. The sun, sinking lower in the sky, sent diamonds skipping off the water’s surface. The trees swayed and bowed gently with the breeze. Leaves twisted and waved, holding on as long as they could before they would let go, float to the ground and join their siblings to form a winter blanket over the earth.

The water remained calm that time of year. The summer boaters, fisherman, and weekend campers had all packed up and returned to their busy lives. Only one soul remained to witness the grandeur of the hillside on fire and growing brighter every day. One person, who arrived precisely at the same time every year, lingered on to watch the reflections in the water evovle with the passage of time.

It was peaceful up there at the lake at that time of year. It was also when he was most productive. There he was disconnected from it all. All the noise, distractions, and constant battle for his attention seemed like a distant dream when he was by the water. All those things that carried such importance and weight back in the city showed themselves to be silly and a waste of precious resources. That place always had the effect of making him feel small and insignificant, just what he needed sometimes.

To be resumed…

Into the Darkness – Full

In the dark, the silhouettes of each tree could be easily mistaken for human forms. An entire army of shadow men, poised and ready, only swaying with the tracking of the flashlight. He was already on edge before stepping through the forest threshold in the dark, he didn’t need his mind tricking him to think he was seeing people out there to cause that. The stillness and silence that surrounded only bolstered his fears. The only sound to be heard was the rustling under his feet with each step.

He proceeded cautiously, panning the flashlight left to right and back again, careful to tread softly. The further into the woods he was, the darker it seemed to become and the less effective his flashlight seemed to be, as if the darkness absorbed all light and color and left no remaining reflection of any sort. 

What he was looking for was not apparent yet. He was told he would know when he found it and not to come back until he did. Of course, his mind jumped to all the terrible things he feared he would come across: a cabin with a cluttered basement full of sharp objects, a shrine of some sort, a little girl in her Sunday dress holding a floating balloon. And on, and on.

Still, with no real purpose or sense of direction, he carried on. The darkness really was growing darker. A blackness that felt thick, like it required more effort to move through. 

His flashlight flickered. Panicking, he hit the head of the light against the base of his palm. The light steadied, but only for a moment. A few steps later and the light cut out completely. In a fury, he frantically beat the light against his hand, but without any results. He was left without sight in this dense darkness.

He groped around in the air near him until he came to a tree, and he slumped down to its base, sitting against it. There was no possibility of finding his way in the night. So he sat there, unsure of what to do. He thought perhaps he can wait it out until the morning, though he feared the worst would happen, unable to understand his surroundings. And he doubted if the morning would come at all, for how could day and light even exist amongst such darkness? 

In that darkness, he grew to be more and more on edge. It wasn’t just the loss of vision that struck him, the silence there was all consuming. The utter absence of sound shook him to his core. There was nothing to be heard. No rustling from leaves blowing. No straining or creaking of branches as they swayed. No creatures calling out. No birds chirping. And not even the defining resonance of insects singing through the night. His breathing also seemed to fall short and come out muted. It was this absence of sound that caused him to notice the lack of air movement. No wind whatsoever.

It was in this moment, devoid of all senses, that he was quickly approaching a mental breakdown. Complete nervous exhaustion. And at this precipice of panic, a small flashing light caught his attention out the corner of his eye. He saw it again. A glowing dot hovering in the air. Illuminating and just as suddenly, fading away. Then there was another. And another. Until the distance was ablaze with these tiny flickering lights. The sight gave him a glimmer of hope.

He pushed himself up and moved in the direction of the light speckled air, but as he approached, the swarm of lights floated away from him and kept its distance. He followed. As they moved along, the pace quickened as if the lights were growing impatient. He sped up to keep pace, doing all he could to avoid obstacles in the dark. 

This carried on for some time until he could see the lights had stopped in a clearing up ahead. The moment he set foot into the clearing the lights shot out in all directions and took position along the outside of the expanse, forming a sphere around him and this area. They ceased their flickering and held their place, steadily illuminating the entire space.

He understood he was meant to be here.

The clearing was round in shape and about 100 yards in diameter. At its center was a circular, free-standing stone arch. As he grew nearer to the arch, he found it peculiar that it was able to remain standing. The stones that should have served as its foundation were hardly underground and positioned at the arch’s center, there was no lateral bracing to resist strong crosswinds, and no mortar to bond the joints of the stones. Gravity somehow held those large stones in their shape, but it also felt like gravity had assistance from some unknown force.

When he reached the arch, he saw that it was much larger than he originally suspeced, about 12 feet at its head height, and each stone was over 18 inches thick and a couple feet deep.

Running his hand along the face of the stones, that ancient surface covered with moss and darkened by its age, he felt surprised to have never learned about this monument before. It was matching in magnificence to any other structures constructed by ancient civilizations. Had he discovered it? he wondered.

He stood under the center of the arch and followed its form, sweeping above his head. A feeling of unease settled over him as he studied the soffit, failing to comprehend how these massive stones did not come loose and crush him where he stood. 

This uncomfortable notion pushed him to step through to the other side of the arch. When he turned to study it further, he could no longer see through the arch to the woods beyond. What lay before him now was the entrance to a tunnel.

Standing at the mouth of the entrance, he stared back into the depth of th tunnel, taken aback by how it could exist. Thinking his mind was playing tricks on him, he walked around the arch to look at the other side again. On the other end, he could see right through the arch to the illuminated forest beyond. He walked through the arch again and when he turned around, there it was, the entrance to the tunnel.

The existence of a tunnel like this shattered all known physical laws and he was unable to comprehend how it could be. He repeated this action of walking around the arch and through it several times, trying to catch the moment when it would shift from emptiness to entrance, without any luck, and finally resolved to sit in front of the opening and stare into it in bewilderment. He had not the strength to go explore the tunnel so he sat and stared. 

The tunnel walls were composed of threads, yarn like and fibrous, that spiraled and spindled around, forming a maelstrom that wound deep into the void. With the lights from the clearing, he could see far back into it. The tunnel curved gently to the right for a distance, and took a sharp turn to th left at about where the tree line should be.

He understood there would be no finding his way back through the forest and his curiosity wouldn’t allow him to leave without knowing where this tunnel led. So after an extended time of staring, he mustered all the courage he could, pushed himself up, and set off to explore this impossible passage.

Crossing the threshold felt like exiting the known world, like stepping into another dimension and leaving everything he understood as real or possible behind in the forest clearing. He ran his hands along the sinewy tunnel wall and dug his fingers between the strands until he found one that appeared loose. He tugged at it until he pried it from the wall, and once there was some slack, he gnawed at it with his teeth to break off an end. He then tied the loose end to his belt loop and around his waist. This, he thought, would serve well to lead him back out when he was ready. 

As he proceeded into the tunnel, the yarn-like thread slowly unwound itself from the wall, dragging behind him. The first turn in the tunnel was quickly reached and he conitnued further as the light from the clearing outside slowly began to fade to black. It soon became completely dark in the tunnel, only a tiny glimmer of light could be seen from where he came. 

At this place of utter darkness, he ran into a dead end, or what he at first though was a dead end. He felt along the walls and found the path split in two directions here. The tunnel’s first turn was a left one, so he chose to continue left again, his hand dragging along the wall for direction.

This carried on for some time, moving forward, finding a fork, and going left. And at one of these forks, he heard something quiet and far off, like a gruff moan. His heart racing now, he stopped where he was to see if he would hear it again. The sound came once more, shorter this time, and quite a distance away, but he knew there was something else in the tunnel with him. He stayed still and wrestled with continuing any further to discover what the sound was or returning to the woods. At this moment of indecision a snort from above puffed hot, moist air on his head and made the decision for him. He took off running as fast as he could in the direction from which he had come, pulling on to the thread as guidance. He tripped, scrambled to get up and just get out of there and away from whatever that was. 

Sprinting for his life through the tunnel, he soon felt as if he should be close to or at the entrance, but could not see any light. The thread continued and he followed it and the darkness remained. The entrance should be here. He began to fear the worse, and that’s when he reached the end of the thread.

Where is it? he thought. The thread that led him back died into the floor here in the pitch blackness. The moan he had first heard sounded out again, though this time it was louder and closer. He put his hand on the wall to guide him and continued running from the unknown noises.

The tunnel seemed to carry on endlessly. His pace eventually slowed as he grew tired and thirsty. There were many forks in the tunnel he came across and he took every right turn he could, knowing full well that he only turned left when he first ventured down the tunnel, but he still had not reached the exit. 

The cry from the creature was heard again. Further off now. The sound of it prodded him to move faster, but he had little energy to quicken his pace and felt that he had already put some distance between him and it. He was carrying on quite slowly now. Almost at a crawl. His limit had been reached and he resolved to stop and await whatever fate. At this moment of near collapse and surrender, he noticed a small amount of light coming from up ahead. Being exhausted he hadn’t seen it earlier.

He carried on at the pace he could manage and soon reached the faint glow. The light was coming from a few threads around the tunnel walls and ceiling. They were giving off a soft, ambient light and pulsating ever so slightly, which led him to believe this place was alive. Following the glowing threads led him deeper and deeper into the tunnel and the lights grew brighter as he proceeded. Up ahead there was another fork in the passage, and a bright light was flooding out from the path to the right. Could it be the exit? he thought. He hastened to reach the brightness. Turning the corner he found a large, cavernous space, awash with light.

Inside this room, he took pause to study the surroundings. It was a space unlike any other he had experienced before. The threads still wrapped the outside walls and ceilings. A few strands were illuminated and pulsing with bright, warm yellow light. From the ceiling, loose strands of thread hung down at varying lengths, most were wet and dripping with water. The water fell from the threads and was caught in seven crater-like bowls that curved up out of the ground and seemed to be made of something more earthen than the thread. Most of the bowls were nearly full to the brim. 

One bowl stood apart and was mirror still, reflecting the fibrous ceiling, dark and deep. He fell in front of that bowl and began scooping up water to drink and quench his thirst. When he had taken in all he could his body began to twitch in minor convulsions. He cried out from pain in a blood curdling scream as the convulsions grew stronger and they lay him flat out on his back in an uncontrollable seizure. 

Violently flopping on the ground, his mind flooded with memories which, before now, were unknown. Memories of him in all his fury committing the most heinous acts. Him as the inquisitor of the disparate. Him the exectutioner of the innocent. Him the rapist of the weak. Him the stalker in the night, the torturer, the opressor, the slaver, the tormenter. Him the manager of massacres. 

These villainous scenes played out like a cinema in his mind. An atrocity exhibition that he could not escape, his body shaking domonically all the while. At points in this episode, his back arching high, it appeared as if he would detach from gravity and levitate above the ground.

When the horror reel finally faded and the last convulsions ended, he lay on his back, wearied and weakened. His crotch stained with urine that puddled up around him. Drool running from his mouth. He was in disbelief as to how he could be the one to do such terrible things. In his mind, he played back all those thoughts that were brought up to the forefront. At that moment he hated himself for what he was. And he wept.

A loud cry from deep in the tunnels cut short his sorrowful self-loathing. As if by command, water began to flood from the strands in the ceiling and pour into the bowl he had drunk. Flames impossibly burst from where the water flowed, and crawled and danced across the ceiling. The water overflowed the bowl and washed out onto the floor. He scrambled to his feet, afraid of what would happen if the water were to touch him again, and he quickly backed up out of the room as the water puddle crept toward him.

He had to find the exit, he decided. There was no other option now. He did not care to explore any more of the tunnel and his curiosity was spent. From the wall, he tugged on an illuminated strand, pulled off as much of it as he could, and balled it up. This, he thought, should serve to help him light the way. 

As the flames and the flooding began to overtake the room, he fled back into the tunnel. At the first intersection, he chose the path to the right. Down this trail, he heard the moan again, but this time it sounded close. He turned to look behind him and there stood a shadow. It was much too large to be human and it held no real substance or form, merely a shadow. But to be a shadow, light traveling must be blocked by something solid, yet there was nothing there. He began to back peddle, in fear for his life. The shadow charged him at breakneck speed. It lunged at him, tackling him to the ground and pinned him down, hovering above his face.

The shadow restrained him without touching him or holding him. The weight of it felt massive but there was no real physical contact between them. He struggled to get loose from underneath it, without any results. The shadow remained still, floating right above him.

When he finally settled and quit the useless resistance, the shadow spoke. It didn’t speak in an audible voice, but it was more like its words occupied his mind.

You’ve been here a thousand times heretofore, it said in his mind, a guttural deep voice, monotonous and cruel sounding. You’ve made the very choice a thousand times without faltering, it continued. The words filled the cavities of his mind and seemed to ooze and occupy any space it could expand into, and they settled there, taking their place, melded with his thoughts.

You’ve been given the order. Now go forth and carry out the bidding without detour or deviation, it finished. With those words spoken, a shadow appendage extended from the form and slowly reached out for him until it touched his forehead. The contact with it caused him to writhe in agony and gnash his teeth. The skin on his forehead sizzled and bubbled and it felt as if his brain was settling and solidifying like concrete.

And just as suddenly as the shadow was upon him, it was gone. Having left its mark it retreated and dissipated back into the dark of the tunnel.

With the shadow now gone, he sat up carefully and repositioned himself. His forehead was sore from where the shadow had touched him. When he rubbed that spot on his head it was warm, smooth to the touch, and slightly protruding, like it was an old scar that had always been there. He struggled to recall the words the shadow had placed in his mind, though it was just moments ago. Its as if a veil had been draped over his thoughts and fog enveloped his mind. 

While working to regain his stability, he heard voices calling, off in the distance. They were yelling words he could understand, something he remembered. They wee calling out his name.

With what strength remained, he pushed himself up and hobbled in the direction of the voices. After the first corner he turned, he could see bright light from far down the tunnel. The voices grew louder as he got closer to the light and he was becoming more certain it would lead outside. His eyes gradually adjusted to the brightness and he could see out of the tunnel. Up ahead was the same clearing from which he had first entered the tunnel, he was sure of it, though everything outside was upsidedown. The trees he could see were growing in the wrong direction and the sky was level with the ground he was walking on. He could also see that it wasn’t an arch up ahead, but a stairway that led from the tunnel ceiling. He had not the brain power to puzzle together how to get right side up, and he continued toward the exit. As he moved forward his body gently rotated, remaining perpendicular to the tunnel walls, and finally upright, standing on what was previously the tunnel ceiling. 

The stairs ascended into the clearing through a stone crater in the ground. The arch was gone. As he crossed the threshold from the last crater step to the forest clearing, he colapsed, no strength to go further. 

He heard his name pronounced excitedly. A man and a woman rushed toward him from the tree line. When they reached him he noticed that the crater was gone and with it the tunnel. The three of them were in the middle of a grassy field, warmed with daylight, and surrounded by the forest. 

“You must’ve seen it.” the man said.

“I can’t believe we found you!” exclaimed the woman.

The two helped him to his feet and gave him some water. They supported him and assisted him, walking toward the woods. They were both overflowing with questions for him. Questions he had no answers to. The only thing he knew for certain was that soon these two would regret having found him. He wished he could prevent what would inevitably happen, but deep inside he knew things must take their course. He wished instead he could be left here, in this clearing, to rot away, or to disappear, like the shadow into the darkness.

Into the Darkness – Part 10

With the shadow gone now, he sat up carefully and repositioned himself. His forehead was sore from where the shadow had touched him. When he rubbed that spot on his head it was warm, smooth to the touch, and slightly protruding, like it was an old scar that had always been there. He struggled to recall th words the shadow had placed in his mind, though it was just moments ago. Its as if a veil had been drapd over his thoughts and a fog enveloped his mind.

While working to regain his stability, he heard voices calling, off in the distance. They were yelling words he could understand, something he remembered. They wee calling out his name.

With what strength remained, he pushed himself up and hobbled in the direction of the voices. After the first corner he turned, he could see bright light from far down the tunnel. The voices grew louder as he got closer to the light and he was becoming more certain it would lead outside. His eyes gradually adjusted to the brightness and he could see out of the tunnel. Up ahead was the same clearing from which he had first entered the tunnel, he was sure of it, though everything outside was upsidedown. The trees he could see were growing in the wrong direction and the sky was level with the ground he was walking on. He could also see that it wasn’t an arch up ahead, but a stairway that led from the tunnel ceiling. He had not the brain power to puzzle together how to get right side up, and he continued toward the exit. As he moved forward his body gently rotated, remaining perpendicular to the tunnel walls, and finally upright, standing on what was previously the tunnel ceiling.

The stairs ascended into the clearing through a stone crater in the ground. The arch was gone. As he crossed the threshold from the last crater step to the forest clearing, he colapsed, no strength to go further.

He heard his name pronounced excitedly. A man and a woman rushed toward him from the tree line. When they reached him he noticed that the crater was gone and with it the tunnel. The three of them were in the middle of a grassy field, warmed with daylight, and surrounded by the forest.

“You must’ve seen it.” the man said.

“I can’t believe we found you!” exclaimed the woman.

The two helped him to his feet and gave him some water. They supported him and assisted him, walking toward the woods. They were both overflowing with questions for him. Questions he had no answers to. The only thing he knew for certain was that soon these two will regret having found him. He wished he could prevent what would inevitably happen, but deep inside he knew things must take their course. He wished instead he could be left here, in this clearing, to rot away, or disappear, like the shadow into the darkness.

Into the Darkness – Part 9

The shadow pinned him down without touch him or holding him. The weight of it felt massive but there was no real physical contact between them. He struggled to get loose from underneath it, without any results. The shadow remained still, floating right above him

When he finally settled and quit the useless resistance, the shadow spoike to him. It didn’t speak in an audible voice, but it was more like its words occupied his mind.

You’ve been here a thousand times heretofore, it said in his mind, a gutteral deep voice, monotonous and cruel sounding. You’ve made the very choice a thousand times without faltering, it continued. The words filled the cavities of his mind and seemed to ooze and occupy any space it could expand into, and the words settled there, taking their place, melded with his thoughts.

You’ve been given the order. Now go forth and carry out the bidding without detour or deviation, it finished. With those words spoken, a shadow appendage extended from the form and slowly reached out for him until it touched his forehead. The contact with it caused him to writhe in agony and gnash his teeth. The skin on his forehead sizzled and bubbled and it felt as if his brain was settling and solidifying like concrete.

And just as suddenly as the shadow was upon him, it was now gone. Having left its mark it retreated and dissipated back into the dark of the tunnel.

Into the Darkness – Part 8

A loud cry from deep in the tunnels cut short his sorrowful self loathing. As if by command, water began to flood from the strands in the ceiling nad pour into the bowl he had drank from. Flames impossibly burst from where the water flowed, and crawled and danced across the ceiling. The water overflowed the bowl and washed out onto the floor. He scrambled to his feet, afraid of what would happen if the water were to touch him again, and he quickly backed up out of the room as the water puddle creeped toward him.

He had to find the exit, he decided. There was no other option now. He did not care to explore any more of the tunnel and his curiosity was spent. From the wall, he tugged on an illuminated strand, pulled off as much of it as he could, and balled it up. This, he thought, should serve to help him light the way.

As the flames and the flooding began to overtake the room, he fled back into the tunnel. At the first intersection, he chose the path to the right. Down this trail, he heard the moan again, but this time it sounded close. He turned to look behind him and there stood a shadow. It was much too large to be human and it held no real substance or form, merely a shadow. But to be a shadow, light traveling must be blocked by something solid, yet there was nothing there. He began to back peddle, in fear of his life. The shadow charged him at breakneck speed. It lunged at him, tackling him to the ground and pinned him down, hovering above his face.

Into the Darkness – Part 7

Inside this room he took pause to study the surroundings. It was a space unlike any other he had experienced before. The threads still wrapped the outside walls and ceilings. A few strands were illuminated and pulsing with bright yellow warm light. From the ceiling, loose strands of thread hung down at varying lengths, most were wet and dripping with water. The water fell from the threads and was caught in seven crater-like bowls that curved up out of the ground and seemed to be made of something more earthen than the thread. Most of the bowls were nearly full to the brim.

One bowl stood apart and was mirror still, reflecting the fibrous ceiling, dark and deep. He fell in front of that bowl and began scooping up water to drink and quench his thirst. When he had taken in all he could his body began to twitch in minor convulsions. He cried out from pain in a blood curdling scream as the convulsions grew stronger and they lay him flat out on his back in an uncontrollable seizure.

Violently flopping on the ground, his mind flooded with memories which, before now, were unknown. Memories of him in all his fury committing the most heinous acts. Him as the inquisitor of the disparate. Him the exectutioner of the innocent. Him the rapist of the weak. Him the stalker in the night, the torturer, the opressor, the slaver, the tormenter. Him the manager of massacres.

This villainous scenes played out like a cinema in his mind. An atrocity exhibition that he could not escape, his body shaking domonically all the while. At points in this episode, his back arching high, it appeared as if he would detach from gravity and levitate above the ground.

when the horror reel finally faded and the last convulsions ended, he lay on his back, wearied and weakened. His crotch stained with urine that puddled up around him. Drool running from his mouth. He was in disbelief as to how he could be the one to do such terrible things. In his mind, he played back all those thoughts that were brought up to the forefront. At that moment he hated himself for what he was. And he wept.

Into the Darkness – Part 6

Where is it? he thought the exit should have been here, but the thread that led him back died into the floor here in the pitch blackness. The moan he had first heard sounded out again, though this time it was louder and closer. He put his hand on the wall to guide him and continued running from the unknown noises.

The tunnel seemed to carry on endlessly. His pace eventually slowed as he grew tired and thirsty. There were many forks in the tunnel he came across and he took every right turn he could, knowing full well that he only turned left when he first ventured down the tunnel, but he still had not reached the exit.

The cry from the creature was heard again. Further off now. The sound of it prodded him to move faster, but he had little energy to quicken his pace and felt that he had already put some distance between him and it. He was carrying on quite slowly now. Almost at a crawl. His limit had been reached and he resolved to stop and await whatever fate. At this moment of near collapse and surrender, he noticed a small amount of light coming from up ahead. Being exhausted he hadn’t seen it earlier.

He carried on at the pace he could manage and soon reached the faint glow. The light was coming from a few threads around the tunnel walls and ceiling. They were giving off a soft, ambient light and pulsating ever so slightly, which led him to believe this place was alive. Following the glowing threads led him deeper and deeper into the tunnel and the lights grew brighter as he proceeded. Up ahead there was another fork in the passage, and a bright light was flooding out from the path to the right. Could it be the exit? he thought. He hastened to reach the brightness. Turning the corner he found a large, cavernous space, awash with light.

Into the Darkness – Part 5

Crossing the threshold felt like exiting the known world, like stepping into another dimension and leaving everything he understood as real or possible behind in the forest clearing. He ran his hands along the sinewy tunnel wall and dug his fingers between the strands until he found one that appeared loose. He tugged at it until he pried it from the wall, and once there was some slack, he gnawed at it with his teeth to break off an end and then tied the loose end to his belt loop and around his waist. This, he thought, would serve well to lead him back out when he was ready.

As he proceeded into the tunnel, the yarn-like thread slowly unwound itself from the wall, dragging behind him. The first turn in the tunnel was quickly reached and he conitnued further as the light from the clearing outside slowly began to fade to black. It soon became completely dark in the tunnel, only a tiny glimmer of light could be seen from where he came.

At this place of utter darkness, he ran into a dead end, or what he at first though was a dead end. He felt along the walls and found the path split in two directions here. The tunnel’s first turn was a left one, so he chose to continue left again, his hand dragging along the wall for direction.

This carried on for some time, moving forward, finding a fork, and going left. And at one of these forks, he heard something quiet and far off, like a gruff moan. His heart racing now, he stopped where he was to see if he would hear it again. The sound came once more, shorter this time, and quite a distance away, but he knew there was something else in the tunnel with him. He stayed still and wrestled with continuing any further to discover what the sound was or returning to the woods. At this moment of indecision a snort from above puffed hot, moist air on his head and made the decision for him. He took off running as fast as he could in the direction from which he had come, pulling on to the thread as guidance. He tripped, scrambled to get up and just get out of there and away from whatever that was.

Sprinting for his life through the tunnel, he soon felt as if he should be close to or at the entrance by now, but could not see any light. The thread continued and he followed it and the darkness remained. The entrance should be here. He began to fear the worse, and that’s when he reached the end of the thread.

To be resumed…