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I’d already gone deeper into the dark than I’d ever been before. The walls of the tunnel were gradually closing in and I still didn’t see an end. It was hot and humid. The smell of guano was thick in the air but my nostrils had long grown immune to its stench. Rocks under my feet were spaced further apart now, and the mud was less stable. If I lost my grip on the stones around me I’d surely fall into the muck covering the floor.

Dozens of bats suddenly came flying out at me like black, winged missiles, screeching their piercing wails as their bodies flew into mine. I struggled to stay on the two rocks as I fought off their assault. Scratching and grabbing the rock wall around me, my hand slid down its moist surface. My foot sunk into the mud and I felt the ooze sucking me in up to my knee.

I was stuck.

Something gripped my leg. I couldn’t see it in the darkness but I felt four bony fingers wrapping tightly around my ankle. Yanking hard, it threw me off balance and my other foot left it’s rock and sank into the muck. Another hand took hold of that ankle and jerked my legs backwards. I fell flat on my face in the mud and my body was pulled under–

never to be seen again.


Comments on: "How I Died in A Roman Sewer" (3)

  1. A horror post! Wow, surprised you wrote that. Nice job.


  2. SHEW! I’m glad you are really ok. lol. Awesome post!

  3. Whoa! No more spicy food before bed, girl!!! 🙂

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