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suddenly into a pool of darkness. Something else caught his attention though, a few feet down, several thick, gnarled roots clung to the rock. Tom barely had time to think that is was an odd place for a tree to grow before one of them moved and the sick unease in Tom's stomach seemed to solidify into something solid which began to try and force its way out of his chest. Like blind fingers reaching towards the source of a light they couldn't possibly see, the things writhed upwards. As he watched one detached itself from the wall and rose, revealing an expanse of gleaming, mottled skin. Water dripped from it, impossibly loud in the confined space, echoing the thudding of his own heartbeat.

This was too much for Tom's already over burdened mind. Later he would remember being pulled back, loosing his torch and watching as the light was enveloped by the thick darkness. He vaguely remember Craddock recovering the hole, the dull, wet thud on the other side and what he saw as he fell, as the torch dropped into the oily darkness towards the even darker things that moved within it.

Some months later he heard from a distant source that the fissure had suffered a mysterious cave in, blocking it off from the outside world. He never heard from Craddock again, and never attempted to initiate contact himself. He never went back to the rock face, wanting to forget as much as possible. Eventually the images did fade, as least from his waking thoughts, and all that was left were strange dreams which left him shaking and sickened, with a cold hard sense of dread which did not fade even in the bright light of day.

Learn more about this author, Emily Gee.
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