Work Text:
You’ve never particularly liked the dark.
It's always a little scary, not being able to see where you’re going. Honestly, you’re more afraid of hurting yourself in the dark than actually being in the dark. It stands to reason, then, that you’ve never really liked the idea of diving into caves either.
Why did you agree to this again? Oh right- it was just supposed to be Sara and Tom- you were going to stay and wander the quaint little village your group was staying in when Sara got sick, and she said Tom took “shit” pictures, so it would be a waste to send him in alone, and honestly it was only an hour, 90 minutes at most, it wouldn’t be that bad.
You should have stayed at the hostel.
The walk to the caves was nice, open air and green trees, shrubbery and flowers. You even got some nice pics of a butterfly sunning its wings. All nice until you met up with the tour group, and you started to descend into the depths. It wasn’t pitch- there were lights out to make sure people could see where to go without tripping on random stalagmites. No, the problems began when the guide paused the tour, asked for silence and, after a moment of dramatic suspense, cut the lights.
Now it really is pitch. Now it is dark and unknown and absolutely terrifying. Now you can’t see what is in front of you, behind you, to the sides or above. Had the people disappeared? Where did they go? You could have sworn Tom was right next to you, where did he go? You reach out to touch it, there's nothing there’s nothing. You feel like screaming, you might have if you could manage to breathe in properly. Your breath is coming rapidly now, you cannot seem to get enough air, it's too open, it’s too close, you’re lost, you’re suffocating, you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you can’t you can’t you can’t-
And the lights flicker back on, and there is the tour group, and the guide, and there is Tom, looking shaken and saying something to you, telling you to breathe, just breathe, it’s ok.
He asks you if you want to leave, and you say yes.
***
You’re not sure why you decided to try again.
It’s not the same cave- not by a long shot, you’re in a completely different country now. No, you’re not sure why you decide to try going caving again. It’s not like your fear has gotten any better- in fact, it may have gotten worse- but maybe you think this is a step in the right direction. This time it is not a guided tour, you decided to come alone. You hope to stay down there for a very short time. Go in, take pictures, get out. Simple as that.
You take a deep breath.
And descend.
***
You can’t admit that you’re lost.
***
The walk into the cave was nice, it got colder the further down you went, a welcome relief from the humid heat outside. It was dim, but there were enough lights to avoid a panic attack. The lake inside was beautiful, and you took a million pictures. You felt compelled to dip your feet in the water, and feel the fish nibbling on your dead skin. It felt good, and the water was cool, and you relaxed.
You were just about to leave when someone mentioned bats.
You’ve always loved bats, even if you are not a fan of the caves they live in.This is an amazing opportunity to get up close and personal with an animal that fascinates you. You decided to follow the group to see some bats, then make your way back on your own. Probably a bad idea, in hindsight.
You followed the group, staring up towards the ceiling where the shine of their flashlights illuminated the roof of the cave. There was a railing beside you, and you clutched to it to avoid getting lost. The plan was, once you had a picture, you were going to turn around and follow it back to where you started. You watched carefully for any signs of movement, until finally- finally!- you saw one. You scrambled for your camera, momentarily letting go of the hand rail. One of the fixed lights shined near where the bats were resting, so you didn’t notice as the group moved on, further into the cave. You removed your hand from the railing to steady your phone as you snapped a picture.
The lights go out.
***
You can’t admit that you’re lost.
***
You panicked, you’re not ashamed to admit that. You freaked out and reached for the handrail- it was right there, where is it, where is it, where is it- and then you grab it and hold on. Unfortunately, you got a little turned around as you scrambled in panicked darkness, and now you weren’t sure which way would take you back up to the surface.
You sighed, still a little shakily, and decided to head in an arbitrary direction. You kept one hand on the rail, obviously, and walked forward, hoping to either find the group or find the exit. The group couldn’t have gotten far, they weren’t moving very fast. As the minutes passed, you began to hope that you were headed back towards the exit, rather than further into the cave.
Then the railing disappears.
***
You can’t admit you’re lost, you can’t do it, you can’t, if you do- if you do-
You hear yourself sob.
***
You’re panicking now, stumbling back a few steps, grasping for something, anything, but there’s nothing, nothing, nothing, and you feel your breaths get sharper, faster. It’s become obvious that you are having a panic attack, and you plop down and close your eyes- it’s not dark, it's not pitch, your eyes are just closed, you’re not lost, you are not lost- and you try to breathe.
Your breathing evens out after a while, but you haven’t gotten up. You can’t force yourself to move, to fall deeper into the dark depths of the cave, even for a chance at salvation.
You begin to cry.