This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/02321 on 2024-10-30 22:03:59+00:00.
This all started because my childhood friend Abigail wanted to go to Paris. We had just graduated and knew that we wouldn’t be young forever. She didn’t want to travel alone. I didn’t blame her. It’s dangerous for a pretty girl to go anywhere on their own these days. I joined her mostly because I wanted to try all the rich foods I wouldn’t otherwise be able to eat.
I didn’t know much French. Only the important words like asking where the bathroom is. Abby could communicate better so I relied on her for the trip. She used that to her advantage and bullied me into doing a Catacombs tour. It’s not as if I could do anything else besides hang out in our overpriced hotel alone. I figured the tour would be packed being the spooky season and all. Abby hated crowds and I expected her to bail. Turns out, it wasn’t as busy as I thought. About twenty people were in our small group when we arrived. There were a few different tours available. I suppose that split the numbers a little. Or we just arrived too early. It was ten in the morning after all.
Our tour guide stopped at the entrance to tell us the long list of rules. Her accent was so thick I didn’t understand most of it. From what I gathered, she said not to touch anything. Stay with the group and for the love of God, don’t try to bring anything home. Gross. I knew people took rocks from National Parks but who would want a dusty old bone?
Abby and I were at the end of the group. The tunnels were dark and dusty. Not damp like I assumed. The tour guide spoke explaining the history and gesturing towards signs for us to stop and read if we would like. I had thought that seeing piles and piles of human remains might break me out a little. I was just bored. Because I didn’t understand our guide, I was missing out on all the neat facts. And once you saw one pile of bones, the next wasn’t too interesting. The wall of skulls looked a little neat though.
Abby had moved near the front of the group to read a sign. I didn’t know if phones were allowed, but I glanced down at mine, shocked to see a signal. For the next few minutes, I kept my head down, trying to connect to a local coffee shop’s Wi-Fi that was above us while walking behind the group.
Our guide’s voice echoed down the stone hallway. The orange lights and countless candles weren’t good enough to keep me from tipping over the uneven stone floor a few times. I don’t know how long I walked until I realized I no longer could hear voices or footsteps.
When I looked up, I found myself in an empty tunnel lined with candles. No bones. No tour guide. No Abby. No one. That couldn’t be right. Didn’t they say if I got lost I should stay put? I waited for a while listening trying to hear any signs of life. I called out, my echoing voice giving me the chills.
Finally, I heard someone call back in French. Relieved, I started walking towards the voice praying I would be out of here soon. Abby would give me an earful when I saw her next.
I turned the corner expecting to see the group again. I heard the sounds of a large crowd talking and moving about. When I looked around the corner I didn’t see a soul. Just another long hallway lined with more bones. There weren’t any candles in the new hallway. I shone my phone flashlight down the narrow passage. The light couldn’t reach the end. I found myself rubbing my arms feeling suddenly cold. And scared as hell. I’m normally not the one to get scared at haunted places but this was getting to me.
Had my ears been playing tricks on me? No. I knew I heard voices.
I didn’t want to go further into the tunnels so I turned to come back the way I came. I should have done that to start with.
Soon I found myself doubting my memory. The candles that had lined the hallway had been white, not black. At least a thousand were on the floor, half melted with piles of wax forming on top of each other. At the end of the hallway was something I knew I hadn’t seen before.
A wooden door. I stopped in front of it, freaked out. For some odd reason, I knocked first as if expecting an answer. I heard people illegally set up raves and even movie theaters down here. But this door looked to be ancient as if it had been down here since the tunnels were made.
Carefully I placed a hand on the worn brass handle to push open the door a crack. A burst of cold wind came, howling down the hallway and snuffing out some candles. Cold sweat started at the back of my neck. When I opened the door, I only saw darkness. Simply nothing. The floor ended when the door opened up. A deep dark almost endless pit was just beyond my toes.
This couldn’t be right. I’ve never heard of a pit like this. I stared down into the darkness almost expecting this to all be a hoax. As I stared, the inky blackness started to slightly lighten. A red light appeared at the bottom with a sudden blast of hot air. I swore I heard something like drums rhythmically beating down below.
Nope.
I slammed the door refusing to deal with whatever all that was. I needed to get the hell out of here.
I turned to walk back down the hallway. Instead of being greeted by the other tunnel lined with bones, I saw an empty tunnel covered with graffiti. My heart leaped into my throat. The was a line of electric lights above. If I followed that I would make my way to the exit, right?
I started to jog, my feet slipping on the dusty floor. My lungs burned from effort and fear. I didn’t know what any of the spray-painted words meant. But I was glad to see them.
My job started into a run when I noticed another steel door at the end of the tunnel. I crashed into it, spilling through expecting to be greeted by fresh air. Instead, I started falling into a pitch-black pit.
I woke up, my entire body throbbing in pain with so many hard rocks digging into my back. When I moved in the dark to pull out my phone for light, my arm moved aside what I was laying on and an odd crunching sound echoed through the room. My throat grew dry and I almost didn’t turn on my phone from the dread of what I would see.
The light came on but didn’t cover the entire room. I was sitting on so many human skeletons, all dry and cracked from age. Unable to help myself, I screamed. Scrambling, I struggled to move over the pile, my skin crawling every time my exposed skin touched the dry remains. The room appeared endless. I slipped and rolled down a slope of the bones, scraping my arms along the way. My fresh wounds stung however I just wanted to get the hell out of there.
I found a stone wall with a small opening just large enough to fit through. I entered into another tunnel, this one a bit smaller than the others. I sat, dry heaving while shaking the dust off my clothing.
Footsteps came from the darkness. I only had my phone for light. I should have been overjoyed to hear another person, and yet my body went into flight mode. I moved as fast as I could away from the sound, my heart pounding as the person behind me got closer and closer. A small hole was in the wall. I knew I couldn’t run forever so I risked it.
I crammed myself inside, no longer caring about bruises and cuts. Shoving my phone in my pocket, I clamped my hands over my mouth trying to quiet my breathing. My knees pressed hard against my chest as I huddled in a space far too small for my body.
The footsteps grew louder. I thought my heart would stop as I tried to think of what may come out of the darkness for me. Not knowing what was out there was far more terrifying than seeing any kind of monster mankind could think of. I was almost tempted to peek my head out to get an answer to avoid the fear of not having one.
The steps passed but were soon joined by more. I needed to place my hands over my ears and shut my eyes tight against the booming sounds of a crowd stomping just outside my hiding spot. Voices came, unlike anything a human could make. Cruel laughter and something almost like music mixed into the deafening chorus. I might have been there for a few minutes but it felt like an eternity of being crammed inside that crack in the wall, scared and alone.
Even when tie sounds died down, I didn’t dare leave my hiding spot. Hot silent tears ran down my face. I just wanted to go home. But deep down I knew no matter how much I explored these tunnels; I would never find the way out.
A hand fell on my shoulder causing me to scream. I flinched away unable to move in the small space. The hand withdrew and I saw a pale face peeking at me in the dark. They looked human enough. So thin they might as well be a skull with long black hair. Their dark eyes sunken into their face. As yet, the smile was almost kind.
Despite my fear, I found myself reaching out to this person. I took their bony frail hand and let them guide us down the pitch-black tunnels. They may be leading me to a horrible fate. But their hand was warm like the living and I was glad for that.
We arrived at a small room lit by blood-red candles. Square holes had been carved out of the walls deep enough for people to lay down inside. And there were people. Bodies filled each hole aside from two. They weren’t all skeletons. Some wore modern shoes, while others had their bare feet sticking out half rotten.
The odd stranger smiled again and walked over the wall gesturing at a space. I shook my head feeling sick. I didn’t want to be in that cold dark space alone for the rest of my life. No, maybe longer than …
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