MicroHorror

“I’ll always love you,” he tells her.

Of course, there’s no reply. He wonders what has brought about this confession. Maybe it’s the noise he hears, a shuffling sound from all around. He reaches in the dark for his matches and, with trembling hands, strikes one off. What he sees in the moment before the flame burns low and dies he does not like at all.

“Help me,” he pleads with her, knowing she can’t.

As he tries to shift position, pain shoots along his leg. He has to bite down on the scream. The things he saw were sleeping. He does not want to disturb them. For a few seconds he rolls, his knuckles pressed against his lips. The ground beneath him is hard and slippery. He can hear another sound: drip, drip, drip.

Stilling himself as the pains subside, he listens again for that first sound, that sound like the fluttering of great wings. He knows from what he saw in the match light that he is surrounded. They cover the walls with their bodies. Do they dream? He finds it ludicrous to be thinking such things. But what would they dream of? And what could inhabit the nightmares of something apparently born of his own?

He does not know. All he knows is that he must stay still and be very, very quiet.

Suddenly he hears a voice. He hears his name called to him from above. It echoes down the throat of the well to the place where he lies. It’s her. She’s back. He knew she would return. He feels a wave of relief go through him, but then he’s aware of an increase in the shuffling sounds that surround him.

They stir.

Silently, he pleads with her. Please be quiet, love. Get me out of here, but don’t make a sound. You don’t know what’s down here with me.

Unknowing, she hollers that she’s brought help.

A flock twitches its wings.

A man’s voice joins the girl’s, louder still. There’s humor in it. If only they knew! The man asks, laughing, how he managed to fall into a well. The man tells him they’ll have him out in no time. The man has too much to say, too loudly, and the creatures are waking now.

His hands scatter to the ground in search of matches. He finds the box, is about to light one when he halts and freezes, turning his head slowly in the dark.

Very close to him, he can hear their breathing.

Voices from above tell him they’re throwing down a rope.

It’s too late. He wants to tell her he loves her again, despite this, despite everything, but he doesn’t even have time to scream.