azwraith,
Literary: Click Click Click
Far
out within the desert, a sandstorm was raging. It churned up the sand in every
direction, blinding anyone who dared to cross
its home.
Such a
caravan of traders would be an unfortunate victim. They were merchants and
traders, seeking either to further line their pockets or to provide for their
families, hoping to get to neighboring cities to sell their wares. Now,
however, all they can do is look for shelter in the middle of the desert.
“How
long do y’think the storm’s gonna last?” asked one of the merchants.
“Since
it just started, I say until our bones are
picked clean!” replied another.
“Quiet,
both of you,” snapped a third, “I see a cave up ahead. If we can fit in our
rides and our wares, we can try to wait out the storm.”
“And
if not?” asked the first.
“Let’s
just hope we all can fit,” answered a fourth.
Slowly
and carefully, they made their way towards the
cave. Just as they neared it, however, their animals — their donkeys and horses
and camels — started fidgeting and braying, trying to get away from the cave
entrance. With much cursing and struggling, they forced the animals to get inside, while a couple of the merchants
went ahead to see if there is anything else in the cave.
“Ach,
it looks like there’s nothing else here. That’s good, I guess,” the first of
the pair said.
“Wait,
hold on — there’s something at the back,” replied the second.
And
indeed, there was. At the back of the cave, there was gash from the ceiling to the floor, wide enough for a man
walking sideways to fit through. Upon closer inspection, the gash deepens into a thin, yet oddly lengthy corridor.
“Stay
here, I’ll see if this leads anywhere,” said one, and, without waiting for a
reply, he grabbed a torch stuck in the crack on
the wall.
Edging
along the gap, the merchant slowly made his way through the corridor. Halfway
through, the corridor began to widen, until he found himself in a small
chamber.
The
walls were covered in drawings that, even
with the light of the torch, were barely understandable. Upon closer
inspection, the carvings looked like chicken scratch trying to give form to
shapes that look . . . insectoid.
Click. Click. Click.
Whipping
around at the sound, the startled merchant saw that the other end of the room
was riddled with holes of varying sizes, from the width of a closed fist to the
breadth of a cart wheel.
Click. Click. Click.
“What
the . . .” he muttered, looking for the source of the clicking. As he found
none, he then realized that they came from the holes, fading farther and
farther away by the passing minute. He looked at the carvings again. No wonder
they looked like insects.
Unnerved,
he squeezed his way through the gap, going back to where he came from. At the
end of the narrow hallway, he found his companions waiting for him at the end,
with their animals sleeping, albeit twitching around. Outside, the sandstorm
continues to rage.
“Well?
Find anything interesting?” asked one of his companions.
“Not
much, just some weird drawings and a few holes, nothing bothersome,” he
replied. “I
think. Still might be better to stay away from the ‘hall’ entrance,
however.”
“A’ight.
‘S bloody dark outside already — might as well turn in for
now,” said another one, “Bu’ why stay away fr’m the hole?”
“You
never know with these places. Plus, a couple of those holes back there looked like they’re infested with vermin. It would be best
to stay away from them.”
“Hm.
If ye say so.”
As he
turned in for the night, he suddenly remembered the carvings.
Click. Click. Click.
Insects.
They depicted insects.
Click. Click. Click.
But of
all things, why insects?
Click. Click. Click.
And
what’s with the holes?
Click. Click. Click.
Did
the insects live in them?
Click. Click. Click.
Oh.
0 comments: