Curiousity Killed the Matt

 Curiosity Killed the Matt

All his life, Matt had loved to explore. This was not, however, the typical desire to learn through exploration that most children go through. It may have started that way in his early childhood, but as he got older, it grew into something more- a calling. As a child, he and his friends would spend most of their free time roaming the local woods and fields. They were never looking for anything in particular, just doing something they enjoyed to pass the time in their dull, small town, where not much else happened, and there was nothing else to do. As they reached their teenage years, having explored the woods a hundred times over, they sought out more exciting places- abandoned buildings. Shops long since closed. Homes that hadn’t been lived in for years. Factories that had been out of business for many years. All things that there was no shortage of in their town. Occasionally, they would leave town and explore the old mines that long ago supported the local economy, but had long since run dry. 

From time to time, they would find themselves in trouble. Despite their abandoned state, these buildings still had owners, and they did not like people ‘breaking in’. These owners would often turn up and chase Matt and his friends away, sometimes making threats if they ever returned. And, on more than one occasion, the police had been called, and they were given a stern talking to.

There was also another danger- the buildings themselves. Most were in poor condition, and sometimes there were accidents. Matt himself, at the age of 14, had once fallen after a floorboard gave way beneath him, cutting his leg open and breaking his right arm.

But no amount of threats, or police warnings, or accidents deterred them. What did bring those days to an end was something far simpler- time. One by one, Matt’s friends stopped joining in. They either got jobs, started relationships or went to university in new towns and cities. Eventually, they all moved away from the dead-end town they had grown up in. But not Matt. Matt’s love of exploring continued to grow. It went from occasional outings with friends to a hobby. And when he found out he could make money filming and uploading his explorations online, it became his full-time job. This did not happen overnight. It took a lot of dedication and hard work. And there was always a feeling he needed to go bigger, more exciting, and further afield, not only to retain viewers but also to continue gaining new ones. 

And the more daring he got, the bigger the risk he faced. More popular and well-known locations always had others exploring at the same time. Most were friendly, but not all. There was also a risk of encountering a homeless person who had taken abode in an abandoned location, many of whom did not like being disturbed. More than once, Matt had been chased out of a place in fear.

One morning, Matt was checking his messages. These contained all the usual things he had to deal with: comments, sponsorships, trolls, and recommendations. But one in particular caught his eye—a request. The message had been titled Mountain Cave. Matt opened the message and casually read through it, getting halfway before stopping, not because of a lack of interest but to reread it more carefully.

Dear Matt

I hope you are well. I am writing to you with a tip for a site that may interest you.

Where the drylands meet the mountains, there is a system of caves. There is one in particular that is rarely visited. I have only been there once myself and did not venture too far inside.

To find the cave, you must walk North along Snake Ridge for 4 miles. At the crossroads, enter Erskin Pass and walk another three miles. The cave will be on your left. Its mouth is shaped like a ‘U’. A short distance from the entrance, the cave slopes down in a narrow tunnel. That was as far as I dared to go, for the slope seemed steep and I could not see how deep it was.

I hope you are braver than I and look forward to seeing the result.

Usually, Matt would ignore random, anonymous tips such as this one. And this one was certainly anonymous, as the sender did not leave their name, nor did their username provide a clue.

When he first started, he welcomed and encouraged his viewers to send requests. At the time, he was young and naive. But there had been a few incidents. He would go to sites people had recommended, only to find someone waiting there. Or there would be booby traps set up to deliberately cause harm. And because what he did fell into a legal grey area, he found he could not even report these incidents to the authorities. So, he decided to stop taking requests, focusing only on sites he had picked himself. People still sent him some, like this person, and he always ignored them. 

And this is what he did this time—at least to start with. However, over the following weeks, Matt found himself thinking it over more and more, going back and forth about whether or not to go. Throughout that time, he found himself disappointed with his explorations, either constantly disturbed by others or just boring locations with nothing interesting to see. 

The lure of an isolated and brand-new place was too great. One morning, Matt woke up with sudden, total clarity—he would go.

Matt spent the rest of that day preparing and packing the essentials he thought he would need for caving and camping. In a large rucksack, he packed a hard hat, head torch, sleeping bag, inflatable mattress, air pump, clothes, hexi stove, tins of food, and bottles of water. In a smaller bag, he packed all of his usual filming equipment, plus two hands-free cameras—one to attach to the helmet and one to his chest.

At dawn the following morning, Matt loaded the two bags and a tent into his pickup truck and set off, hoping to make the 800-mile trip to his destination in one day.

The first stage of his journey proved slow and frustrating. He had to pass through several large towns and the big city, all of which were busy with early morning traffic. Once he had cleared the worst of the traffic, his journey became more easy-going. Matt soon found himself travelling westwards on wide, clear roads. High above, the sun shone. The further he drove, the fewer cars he saw until he saw none at all. The towns he drove through became fewer and smaller.

After driving for almost six hours, Matt started to feel hungry, so he decided to find somewhere to eat and fill his truck with fuel, which was now less than a quarter full. But the road was deserted, and he had not seen any sign of civilisation for many miles. It would be another half an hour until he finally came across a diner with a filling station outside.

Matt pulled over to the side of the road and observed the place for a few minutes. Paint peeled from the diner’s weather-worn exterior. Weeds climbed up the wall. On the roof, a large neon sign had been attached, adorning a single word- Ken’s. The filling station was in no better condition. Large patches of rust blotched the canopy that covered the two pumps. The sign outside, alongside the price, also said Ken’s, leading Matt to assume the two were linked.

Despite its location, a junction between the main road and a road leading to a distant town, the place was deserted, with no other cars parked outside. Usually, this alone would be enough to put Matt off. Along with the condition, he almost considered driving on. But he had no idea how much longer it would be until he found somewhere else, so he could not take the risk. He did not like the thought of running out of fuel out here. Plus, the petrol was cheap.

Pulling into one of the barely marked spaces, Matt turned the engine off and climbed out. He walked up the rotting, wooden steps and through the front door and found himself pleasantly surprised. If the exterior was dilapidated and run down, then the interior was the complete opposite. Underfoot, the spotless blue and white checkerboard floor gleamed. Ahead was a counter bar surrounded by stools whose cushions were covered with blue-dyed leather. Beyond the bar was a blue door with a small, circular window. On top of the bar were various condiments neatly organised. Ten booths stood opposite the bar against the long windows, six to Matt’s left, four to his right. Every surface appeared clean and well-maintained. If it wasn’t for the old-fashioned design, Matt would have thought everything was brand new.

A bell rang as he opened the door, and at first Matt thought they were closed. There were no other customers or anyone who looked like they might work there. However, after a few moments, a woman emerged through the door behind the bar, which Matt assumed led to the kitchen.

“Hello, Luv,” she said with a smile. “Take a seat and I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Matt paused for a moment, wondering where to sit. He walked to his left and sat at the furthest booth with his back to the wall. 

Before he had a chance to read the menu, the woman came over to him, allowing Matt a chance to look at her. Her long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail. Piercing blue eyes and a smile emitted a warm and welcoming feel. Her face was caked in a layer of makeup that made her look older than she probably was. She wore a low-cut pink dress that left little to the imagination. But what struck Matt the most was how tall she was. Even without the high heels, she would be pushing six feet.

“What can I get you, Luv?” she asked.

Feeling pressured, Matt quickly glanced at the menu before making a rushed choice.

“Just a burger and a Coke, please.”

“Of course. Coming right up.”

Without even writing his order down, she walked off and back through the door. From the other side, Matt could hear muffled voices. A man stepped out from the kitchen, looked at Matt for a moment, and then returned to where he had come from. There were then more voices before the man came back out, poured a drink at the bar and walked over to Matt. He appeared to be the complete opposite of the woman. Short and slightly stocky, and what little hair remained on his head was grey, his weathered face lined with wrinkles. He wore a plaid shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans that Matt reckoned were probably older than he was.

“We don’t get many folks out here,” he said in the gruff voice of a heavy smoker. “Once or twice a day, a trucker may stop for fuel or a coffee. And a few locals from the town two miles down the road may occasionally stop by. You don’t seem to be either of those. So, what’s your story, son?”

Matt must have had a look on his face, for the man kept talking.

“Apologies, that was rude of me,” the man continued. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Ken, and as you could probably tell from the large sign outside, I own this place. And that fine woman out there is my wife, El.”

He offered his hand, which Matt shook.

“Matt,” he replied

“So, Matt, where are you from?”

Matt told him and got the usual response.

Don’t think I’ve ever heard of it. And what brings you all the way out here?”

Matt didn’t know why. Maybe it was the setting,  some subconscious vibe, or the fact that he had been driving on his own for the last six hours. Whatever the reason, Matt found himself telling this stranger his whole life story. He spoke of his explorations, his adventures, misadventures and love of working for himself, something Ken happily agreed with. As he spoke, El brought out his burger and then stayed, also listening to him talk, standing next to her husband, her left arm leaning against the booth.

As Matt spoke, eating his food as he did, the couple smiled politely. They nodded at certain parts and even asked follow-up questions. Given their line of work, this did not surprise Matt. Ken and El probably enjoyed the company of others, but they seemed to have very little business these days, so they took every opportunity to have conversations. 

But when Matt reached the point about where he was going, their expressions changed. El seemed to tense up, even appearing scared. Ken, meanwhile, became stern.

“Would that be Erskin Pass, by any chance?” Ken asked. Until now, his voice, whilst rough, had a warm undertone. Now, it felt cold.

Matt hesitated for a moment, wary of the sudden change in tone.

“I believe so,” he replied.

Ken leaned forward, maintaining the stern look upon his face.

“I’m going to give you some advice- probably the best advice you will ever receive in your life. Get back in your car and go home. Forget you ever heard that name. If you wish to explore caves, then that’s fine- just not there. No good will come of you poking around those hills. We’re 200 miles from them, and that is close enough for me.”

Perplexed, Matt asked, “What do you mean?”

“Even out here, we hear rumours. Hikers going missing. Experienced cavers go down but never resurface, and those who do tell of labyrinths of tunnls in which you can easily get lost. There is no civilisation for many miles. Some say that plants refuse to grow there, and no animal can be found in those hills.”

“How could you know that if you’ve never been?”

Ken leaned back and chuckled.

“You make a good point, son.” For a brief moment, the smile returned to his face before fading once more. “But there’s more. There are stories- local legends- that say something lives down there.”

“What kind of something?”

“It’s not clear. Depends on the tale.” 

“And do you believe that?”

“I’m not sure. And I don’t mean to find out.”

By now, Matt had finished his food. He paid for his meal, then filled his truck up with fuel. As he paid for that, Ken spoke to him again.

“Listen, son. I can’t tell you what you can or can’t do. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe the stories are just stories. If you decide to carry on, and you do make it out, visit again on your way back. We could potentially put the whole thing to rest once and for all.”

Ken held out his hand, which Matt accepted. Matt thanked him for the food and fuel and then returned to his car. But he did not set off right away. Instead, he sat behind the steering wheel, the engine idling, pondering what he had been told.

Over the years, he had visited more places than he could count. All of them were in various states of decay and had their own dangers to navigate. But all these dangers were either related to human activity or to the nature of the building itself. In all those years, he had yet to encounter something that could not be explained- except once.

Eighteen months ago, just like recently, Matt had been having difficulty finding a place to explore. Every place he visited would either have high levels of security or no means to enter without physically breaking in (something Matt was unwilling to do, as it crossed the grey line into illegality). 

That was when he received a tip-off about the farmhouse. He heard about it through a friend who was a fellow explorer, meaning it did not break his own rule about anonymous requests. Within days, Matt made arrangements to visit. Many others had already explored the house, though Matt intentionally avoided seeing videos and images of the building so he could go in as blind as possible. 

The farmhouse was situated on the edge of a small town, much like his own, twenty miles away, a manageable distance close enough to visit, film and return home on the same night.

He neared the house as the sun was nearing the horizon. Taking the advice he had been given, Matt parked just off the main road, then walked up the mile-long dirt driveway. If he had taken his truck that way, the dust cloud would have caught someone's attention, most likely a nosy neighbour. As he walked, he began to film. If there was anything to see within the fields, Matt could not tell, nor did he desire to wade into the neck-high grass that had grown in the years they had been untended. Walk into an unseen hole or well, and it would be goodbye from Matt, his final moment caught on camera.

As he had been told, he found the farmhouse abandoned entirely, with none of the usual signs of regular security sweeps or surveillance. Considering this had once been a private home and not a business, this did not surprise Matt. Whoever had lived here had no intention of returning. But he remained cautious nonetheless. 

From the outside, the house looked dilapidated. The windows were either smashed or boarded up. The roof had partially collapsed, and what remained looked like it could soon follow—hopefully long after he had left. There were still some items of furniture here and there. On the porch sat a swing chair, the metal frame rusting, and the cushion faded. Farm machinery sat abandoned and forgotten. 

“Whoever had lived here left in a hurry,” Matt said aloud

With the last light of day fading, Matt turned his attention to the barn, which was in just as bad a state as the house. Thinking it would be more fun to explore that in the dark, he climbed the rotting steps up to the house, avoiding the one that had collapsed.

If Matt thought the exterior was bad, the interior was even worse. The ceiling above the kitchen had partially collapsed, and the debris left to rot on the countertops. Every inch of the wooden floor was covered with vegetation. Large furniture such as sofas, chairs and even a television had been abandoned, increasing Matt’s belief that the residents had run off, never to return.

After exploring most of the downstairs, Matt desired to see the upper floor. He searched for the stairs, quickly finding what remained of them. The entire staircase had long since collapsed, leaving nothing but a gap leading to the upper floor. A previous visitor had left a ladder leaning against the wall, which Matt climbed. When he saw the state of the upper floor, Matt decided it would be impossible to explore up there. The majority of the floorboards were broken or missing entirely. One quick look was enough to tell Matt that any bit of weight could cause the floor to collapse, sending him back down the quick way.

He descended the ladder and began to make his way to the door. There seemed to be nothing else he could see, and he could find no clue as to why the family had left so suddenly. It was dark enough now to make exploring the barn exciting, so he thought he would give that a go.

Matt heard a sound upstairs. Typically, this would be nothing unusual. There would always be something in the buildings he had explored: knocks, bangs and creaks. In his mind, these were all perfectly natural and easily explainable sounds to hear in old buildings.

That wasn’t the case this time. The sounds he could hear were not the usual knocks, bangs and creaks. Instead, what he heard was loud thumps just like heavy footsteps, coming from upstairs. And there was something else- a scraping as if someone were dragging something heavy.

He froze in fear. He dared not call out to avoid drawing attention to himself. Not that it would have mattered, as whoever was up there must be aware of his presence, as he hadn’t exactly been quiet since he began his exploration. And one thought troubled him. He had seen the state of the floor upstairs, and it was impossible for someone to be up there. Yet he could not deny what his own ears were hearing. 

The walking and dragging continued, moving towards where the stairs once stood. Matt knew whoever was up there would still need to descend the ladder, which thankfully was out of sight around the corner.

Whoever it was had reached the gap at the edge of the landing. Matt expected to hear the clanking of the ladder, but what he heard instead terrified him. The heavy footsteps and dragging continued, descending a staircase that no longer existed. Matt’s heart was beating so loud, he was sure the person could hear it.

They had reached the bottom of the stairs and were walking towards the kitchen, where Matt stood, still frozen in fear. Any second now, they would come around the corner and spot him. 

Then there was silence. No footsteps, no dragging- the only sound was Matt’s heartbeat. For one moment, he allowed himself to have a peek. He took one slow step, then another, then another. There was no one there. Matt was alone.

Before he could stop himself, Matt was running. He ran out the door and down the porch steps, across the yard, and down the drive. He kept on running until he reached his truck. Matt drove off and did not look back.

 

All this time later, Matt still had no explanation for what happened that day. He uploaded the video anyway in the hopes someone would provide a logical answer, but the ensuing debate only confused him more.

But Matt knew one thing. Before visiting that farmhouse, he had been steadfast in his convictions against the existence of the supernatural. Afterwards, he was not so sure. He also knew that he would spend the rest of his life wondering if he did not visit this cave. He simply had to go. Pulling out of the diner car park, he turned right, heading westwards into the unknown.

The rest of his journey proved uneventful. After leaving the diner, he did not see another person; the sense of total isolation sank in with every mile. The distant hills grew larger and larger like an ominous blot on the horizon. And at least one thing Ken said appeared to be true- Matt could see no signs of plant life.

He reached his destination long after the sun disappeared behind the rocky hills. Eventually, he reached a parking area where the road ended. Beyond, the terrain was so rough that even his truck would have been unable to navigate.

With the light fading fast, Matt decided to set up camp for the night and search for the cave in the morning. He unrolled his tent and began setting up next to his truck before placing it on the flat bed instead. He placed the inflated mattress inside, laying the sleeping bag on top. Once his night's accommodation was ready, Matt lit the hexi stove and cooked food from one of the tins he brought. 

By the time he finished eating, it was fully dark. Sitting back in his chair, Matt spent a while soaking in his surroundings. High above, the stars shone—more than Matt had ever seen. He leant back and stared at them for a while, transfixed by their beauty. And all around him was total silence. Not a chirp from an insect, not a cry from a desert fox, not even a light breeze. For the first time in his life, Matt felt truly alone.

So why did he have the feeling someone was watching him?

Matt could not see far in the darkness, but he would surely hear them approaching. Trying to ignore this feeling, Matt decided to go to sleep. He had had a long day travelling and would need to rise early tomorrow before the sun became too hot.

He rose from his chair and climbed into the tent, ensuring to close the zip behind him. He may have been alone out here, but he still could not shake that feeling of being watched.

Soon after, Matt was asleep.

Matt woke shortly before sunrise the next morning, feeling refreshed than he could ever remember. Nor could he remember the last time he had such a peaceful or undisturbed night.

Climbing out of his sleeping bag, he began to prepare for the day, hoping to set out as early as possible. Any feeling of being watched was long forgotten.

After a quick breakfast, he decanted part of a large water bottle into his metal one. He attached a head torch and a camera to the hard hat and placed it on his head. Then, with a printout of the directions in hand, he set off.

The sun was already high in the sky when he reached the crossroads. For an hour and a half, he had walked along the rough terrain, slowly climbing and weaving up into the hills as he did. The ground to his right was now 100 feet below. Matt still had not seen another human, which struck him as weird—this would be the perfect place for hiking. He didn't worry too much, though. It meant he could switch on his camera and talk as he walked without seeming weird. 

At the crossroads, Matt turned left as instructed. He was now heading down into the valley. The high cliff faces on either side provided much-needed shade after being exposed to the hot sun for so long. 

He found a few other cave entrances along the way. Some were round, some were straight lines. Some were large enough for a person to walk through, others were barely large enough for someone to squeeze their head into. But none matched the distinctive ‘U’- shape described, so he kept walking.

Finally, he found it, though only by luck. After walking down a side track, he reached a dead end. He turned around to return to the main path when he spotted something behind a rock. Peaking around it, he saw a small, almost circular entrance, apart from one hanging piece of rock in the middle. The entrance was only 3 feet high and 4 feet wide at its widest points. The narrowest part, where the rock hung down, was barely 1 foot wide and half a foot high. Matt was thankful for his skinny build and the fact that he was not terribly tall. 

Matt turned on the torch and poked his head inside. From his observation, the cave remained tight for about 10 feet until it widened. Beyond that, he could not tell as the torchlight lit no further.

He removed his head from the hole and stood back, considering the best way to gain entry. If he sat sideways with his knees raised, Matt thought he could shuffle his way inside. So that’s what he did, with his head turned to his left to light the way. The walls and floor were not smooth, rising and falling at points. Around 4 feet in, he had to adjust his legs to squeeze through a particularly tight spot. At 7 feet, he thought he had got stuck. The cave ceiling suddenly dropped where his head was. He tried to back up slightly to duck down, but the helmet became wedged. Unable to go forward or back, Matt struggled to twist his body in a way that would free him. 

In the end, he did not know he managed it, but he managed to get onto his side and half crawl the rest of the way.

Then the walls and roof spread out. Matt could now stand up, though first he had to stretch. 

He now found himself in a narrow tunnel, just wide enough to walk through, going in a straight line. 

After walking for almost a quarter of a mile, the tunnel began to slope gently downwards, weaving slightly.

After a mile, the ceiling began to descend once more. First, he had to bend down, then he had to crouch. Eventually, he was forced onto his hands and knees. It became apparent he would soon have to move headfirst in this narrow, sloping tunnel, pulling himself through on his belly. If he became stuck in that position, he would have difficulty pulling himself back up. It also dawned on him that if he got stuck, there would be no one to save him. Other than Ken and El, nobody knew he was here. And there was no one nearby who would hear his cries for help. He did have a phone with him in his pocket, but if he was stuck, even if he could access it, he doubted he would have a signal.

Realising this potential situation, Matt crawled backwards a few metres to where he could crouch once more. He sat and resumed going down the tunnel, this time travelling feet first. While this method was safer, it meant he was climbing down blind, a fact that was made worse when the tunnel became too narrow to peer downwards. 

The going was slow. Matt took his time with each movement, ensuring he had a stable foothold and grip before making his next move. The narrow confines of the tunnel only allowed him to make small movements at a time, his elbows tucked in and knees straight. Matt had no idea how long he had inched down that tunnel, nor how far he had gone, having no way to indicate either of those. All he could do was continue climbing, thankful the tunnel had maintained its current size.

Then, something changed. His feet were no longer touching the ground, and neither could Matt find a foothold. Holding on extra tight, Matt carefully lowered himself and realised his legs were now dangling in the air—he had reached the end of the tunnel. But he still had no idea what awaited him. There was obviously some sort of drop, but he had no idea how far it was to the ground.

He lowered himself a little further and could now bend his legs. He could feel some kind of wall beneath him. He moved his feet, trying to find a new foothold, but found nothing. 

Matt moved further down. His legs were now entirely out of the hole. Moving his head slightly, he managed a glimpse of the ground. At a distance, it appeared to be only a short drop, one that was definitely survivable. He knew he had only two choices—take the risk and drop down or climb back up. 

Matt took the former option.

He tried to lower himself as far as possible, reducing the distance he would have to fall. Then, when he was ready, he let go. 

The upper part of his body slid out of the hole, and he fell downwards, landing almost immediately. Despite the short distance, he lost his balance and fell to the ground, winding himself. He needed to lie down for a moment to catch his breath.

After he had recovered, Matt rose to his feet and turned around. He found himself in a small antechamber—only six feet wide, twelve long, and ten high—but it felt like a house compared to the narrow confines through which he had just climbed.

Ahead was another passage much wider than the one he had entered. Looking behind, he saw the hole from which he had just fallen out of, his heart sinking as he did. The hole stood around eight feet from the ground. And in that moment, he realised the one thing he had forgotten to bring- rope. Matt thought he could make it back up if he jumped high enough, but doing so would be difficult. 

Trying not to worry about that just yet, Matt proceeded onward. Unlike before, this passage twisted and turned. First a left, then a right, then another right. A sharp left, followed by a sweeping right, followed by a looping left. A right, a left, another left, then three rights. Matt lost all sense of direction but kept walking, wondering what might lie at the end of this passage. 

He soon had his answer. The passage opened into a vast chamber. If the first had felt like a house, then this was a cathedral. 

Stalactites hung from the high, domed roof like fangs. Stalagmites of varying sizes grew from the floor—some barely knee-high, others towering above Matt. The floor sloped gently downwards to the far wall, where a pool of dark water had formed. A few ridges ran down the floor heading towards the pool, which Matt presumed had been caused by water running down over God only knew how many years. He wondered how often and quickly this place would flood if there were to be a sudden downpour.

And then there were the plants. Luminous flowers of varying colours clung to the rocks, lit up the chamber so that even when Matt switched off his head torch, he could easily navigate the maze of stalacmites as he walked to the pool. 

The sight had left Matt speechless. Before, he had been talking occasionally, partly to provide commentary for his video and partly to keep his mind occupied. He would talk about what he could see, how he felt, or what he would do next. However, he could find no words to describe what he was seeing here. The closest description he could think of was that it looked like something out of a fairytale.

Matt reached the edge of the pool. He looked into the still, dark water, unable to see beyond the surface, even when he turned his torch back on and shone the light directly onto it. He knelt and carefully stuck his hand into the water, quickly withdrawing from its cold touch. 

Matt walked around the water’s edge toward some rocks at the far end. But as he approached, he realised, to his horror, that they were not all rocks. Nestled against a horseshoe-shaped rock was a pile of bones. Some appeared to come from animals, but some were clearly human, including at least two skulls, their empty sockets staring back at him.

He decided he had seen enough. There was some truth to the legends of these caves, after all. Matt had no idea who these people were or what had happened to them, and he had no intention of finding out. 

He turned around and climbed the slope towards the edge of the chamber, weaving once more between the stalactites. Reaching the passage entrance, Matt began to walk the meandering path. Left, right, right, left again, straight for a bit, then another right. The first real clue that something was wrong was when he encountered a fork in the path. Matt hesitated momentarily, certain he hadn’t seen any trace of this diversion on the way in, and considered which path to take. He settled on the right-hand one, thinking that if it proved wrong, he could simply turn back and try the other. 

After more twisting and turning, this passage opened into a large chamber like the first. No! It was not like the first—it was the same one. He was at a higher vantage point, and the water was now on his left, but there was no doubt that this was where he had just been. Even worse, he could see the back wall from where he stood and observed something he had not noticed before- there were no fewer than eight other entranceways, with no way of knowing which one he needed and which he had just tried. Two of these were to his left, which he could rule out as the pool had been ahead of him when he first entered, as he could also rule out the one directly opposite. 

Matt decided to work methodically, making his way along the wall until he found the correct exit. He started with the one to his immediate right, using some stones to mark that he had tried it, just in case. 

This one also snaked its way along dissorinatly, leaving Matt unsure of where he was or where he would come out, though he was certain it would not be the exit. He also took extra care to check behind, in case there were any other forks in the path he missed.

Defying logic, this path emerged at the far left of the cave. Matt had to take a moment to close his eyes and breathe deeply to prevent himself from panicking—staying calm in this situation was important. 

He walked along the edge and entered the next passage. He had gotten no more than ten feet in when he heard a noise from the cavern behind him. So far, the only sounds had been from him- footsteps, breathing, and his heartbeat. What he heard was a splashing- something had fallen into the pool. 

This did not alarm Matt. However, what did was what followed. Something emerged from the pool—something large. Whatever it was then began to move in slow, shuffling movements. Matt did not want to wait to find out whether it was moving towards him or somewhere else. Hurrying along, he dared not look back, still hearing that sound. 

He came across a crossroads, the first sign that these tunnels were somehow connected. Not wanting to confuse himself further than he already was. Matt took the path directly ahead.

When this path emerged back into the main chamber, he found himself on the opposite side, the pool now on his right. Whatever had been here had now gone, though Matt could still hear it shuffling along somewhere. He had a sinking feeling it was travelling along the passageway he himself had just walked, which would imply it was following him. Matt did not like the thought of that.

He was starting to feel confident now. He had ruled out six of the nine possible pathways. Down the next passageway, he encountered a familiar fork, this time taking the left pathway. Yet, somehow, he found himself exiting through the same door as the first time. 

Matt could not understand how that could be possible. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He moved faster, aware that somewhere that thing was still pursuing him.

He tried one of the last two passageways. This time, he found the crossroads again, taking the path ahead. Once more, this brought him to the main chamber, somehow through the one remaining option. 

Matt panicked. He ran back down the passageway, desperately hoping he had missed something, only to end up back in the main chamber. 

Again and again, he tried each tunnel. Each time, he found a new path he had somehow missed before. Hopeful, he sprinted through them, only to return to where he had started. And all the while, Matt could still hear that thing, whatever it was, crawling around somewhere in that same labyrinth.

Somehow, more by sheer dumb luck than anything, Matt found himself back at a familiar and welcoming sight—the smooth wall with the small hole around eight feet up. Somewhere behind him, the thing still roamed. He did not know whether or not it was in the same tunnel as him, nor did he wish to find out. At this point, he just wanted to get out.

With his arms stretched over his head, Matt leapt, reaching for the opening and missed, though not by much. A little more power in his jump, and he knew he could make it. 

He tried and missed again, but only just, this time, feeling his fingers brush against the edge. He tried once more and once more fell short.

All the while, Matt could still hear the sound. He still could not tell how far away it was, but knew for certain it was getting closer. Any second now, it could emerge around the corner, leaving him trapped.

Again and again, he tried and again and again failed to reach the hole. Finally, on his seventh attempt, just as he was starting to think he may never get out, he managed to get a firm grip on the ledge. With all his remaining strength, he slowly pulled himself up and through the hole, scared that something would grab his ankle and pull him back down.

He was almost in now, carefully moving his hands anywhere he could find a grip. A few more feet and he would be entirely inside the hole and away from the creature that was stalking him, as long as it could not follow him through the shaft. The thought had not occurred to him until this point.

Only his feet were outside now. But as he tried to move his right leg, it would not budge. He was caught on something- or maybe something had grabbed him. Matt tried to kick himself free, and as he did, he lost his grip. Before he could react, he slid out of the hole, falling to the ground eight feet below. He landed awkwardly on his right foot, his ankle twisting outwards as he did. A loud crack echoed through the silent room. Matt screamed in pain as he continued to fall backwards, hitting his head on the rock floor, only the helmet saving him from greater injury. The force of the impact caused his head torch to slip off, bouncing away and settling a short distance away, facing the opposite direction, lighting the tunnel rather than the chamber.

Matt paid no attention, though, focusing instead on the pain he was in. Never in his life had he felt anything like this. When he tried to move, it only caused a sharp increase in the pain. So for a while, he lay on the hard ground. It was uncomfortable, but the alternative seemed far worse.

Then he remembered the situation. He had been running from something- something that had been stalking him. He held his breath and remained silent, trying to listen for the sound that had followed him throughout the labyrinth of tunnels.

Silence.

There was just silence.

Had he imagined the whole thing? Had he simply heard some perfectly natural sounds and let his mind run away with him? Matt suddenly felt foolish. All the panicking, all the rushing for nothing. If he had just remained calm, he would be gradually climbing to freedom right now.

He tried to sit up, the pain shooting through his leg. He cried out again but managed to pull himself into a seated position carefully. For a moment, he considered attempting to reach for the torch, but he decided it was too far away and the benefit not high enough for the effort to be worthwhile. Instead, he dragged himself to the nearest wall- the one on his right. Despite the pain, he managed to accomplish this.

Matt pulled out his phone, which had miraculously survived the fall. Unsurprisingly, there was no signal down here, so he would be unable to call anyone for help, and neither would shouting help. As far as he knew, there was nobody within a hundred miles.

Matt thought to himself, "Maybe he would get lucky." Maybe someone would find his car and campsite—some hiker or another curious explorer. They would call for help, and a search would be conducted. Somebody would find the cave, climb down, and find him. They would pull him out and bring him to a hospital. He would then continue life with a new outlook and a vow to never poke around caves on his own and without proper equipment again. It was wishful thinking, almost desperate. But right now, that was all he had.

He checked his water bottle and gave it a shake. It was only half full. He took a small sip, knowing he may have to conserve what remained for a while. Even if he could reach the pool, not even being on the brink of dehydration would convince him to drink from that dark water. However, he had no food. How long could he last? He did not want to think about things like that. He tried to drown them out by clinging to the thin hope he had.

And for now, Matt did the only thing he could- wait. Just wait.