Who would have thought we’d end up like this? We never should have gone in the cave, never should have climbed the mountain, no.
We never should have gone on that stupid trip. But we were young, and captivated by the idea of an adventure. Never in our wildest dreams could we have imagined what would happen to us.
We were in love, David and I. We were to be married. ‘David and Fiona Anderson’ has a nice ring to it, right? But it never happened.
What happened in that cave changed everything. The horrors we endured, for what seemed to me to be years. I later found out we were only there for 8 days, but it felt like it had been 20 years we spent in that pit of Hell.
It all started when we found the cave. I was the one who went in first, and David followed.
Admittedly, I was the one who began our introduction to hell. I seduced him, enticed him in on the premise of an intimate endeavor. It was simple enough; we ‘did the nasty,’ as is said nowadays, but when we tried to return to the outside, we discovered that we had lost our way.
The cave was in fact an immense maze of lightless tunnels, an unfathomably large maze, where one could be lost and never found; a maze that was home to demons of the dark. Everything that scared us as children, everything that went bump in the night was nothing compared to what haunted — no — what hunted us there!
After a long time of looking for the entrance, we gave up. Exhausted, we collapsed to the ground and fell asleep. We awoke sometime later to a horrible cackling sound that echoed all around us. A few minutes passed, and it stopped.
We sat in silence for a while, and just when we thought we were alone again, something grabbed my right leg, digging its claws into my flesh.
It dragged me across the rough stone bottom of the cave. An awful screeching filled the cavern, and my mind just barely registered that it was me. Amongst my screams, I could hear David shouting my name, fumbling behind me, searching in the dark.
The creature, the demon, was on my chest. It breathed down my neck, and I could feel its sharp teeth on my flesh. I stopped squirming, and my screams cut off abruptly.
“Fiona? FIONA!!” Dave’s voice called out, distant and filled with desperation. I could hear him fumbling closer, and the closer he got, the louder the demon growled. Just as he found my hand, the demon leaped off my chest and scuttled off into the unknown darkness.
The food ran out quickly. We had only packed enough for 1, maybe 2 days if it was stretched. The walls pushed in on us, the stale air was suffocating…but we didn’t move.
We had always heard growing up that if you were lost you were supposed to stay in the same place. For us, we had no choice. We had no idea where we were, no sense of direction, and we were too exhausted to think.
Demons visited us hourly, or perhaps demented spirits who, like us, had been lost and died down in the cave, their souls mutated with anger and depression. They sat beside us in the dark, snarling and growling from time to time.
After a while, Dave, my sweet kind, loving fiancée, who would never have hurt anyone… snapped. He stood and began screaming profanities at the demons, threatening and challenging them. As their snarls grew louder, his threats increased.
It must have happened quickly, but it seemed like they took hours… Dave’s threats turned to agonized screams, and I heard every joint, every bone in his body pop.
I heard a suction noise, and there was a coppery smell, and I knew that they had ripped off a limb. My screams mixed with his, as more bones crunched. All was silent for a minute, and then the most awful sound I had ever heard in my life echoed through the cave… David gasped and choked for air, gargling blood.
His body made a loud, soft thud as he hit the floor, and the demons left. I scrambled in the dark to find him, and held on to him, sobbing. His blood covered me, and he was dying quickly but he was able to choke out two last words, “I’m sorry.”
I felt him go limp in my arms as I pleaded with a god that I no longer believed in to take me instead of him. I screamed in the dark, daring them to come back for me, threatening that I would put up a hell of a fight, and swearing I would have my revenge.
I sobbed until I passed out, and when I woke, I was being wheeled out of the cave on a stretcher. I screamed the first thing that came to mind, “DAVE!! WHERE’S MY DAVE?!”
I fought frantically to be free of the restraints. I looked to my left and saw a stretcher with an unzipped body bag on it. The coroner had his back to me, examining Dave’s lifeless body. My vision blurred with tears when I saw his face, frozen in an expression of pain and regret.
Shortly after my exit from the cave, I learned that we had only been an hour and a half from being saved and we were less than a mile from the outside world.
I slipped into a coma and that’s where I am now.
In my dreams, I can imagine that I’m still with my Dave…that we got married, and have 2 children, and we live happy lives. But in the back of my mind, I know. I can never forget.
I’ll always be haunted by the cave, the demons that tore my heart away.
Credit To: DarkAngelNyx
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Brian’s Banal Belvedere:
What’s the lesson we can take from this story? Is it don’t do “the nasty” in a dark cave? Is it bring more food when you explore a cave for the first time? Or is it that you too can write a great CrappyPasta story while still in a coma?
What do you think?