Lighthouse Horror Podcast - I got a job EXPLORING Caves. This is my SCARIEST Story | Scary Story

Episode Date: January 25, 2025

I found something terrifying in the cave...  Scary Story exclusively written for the channel by The Lighthouse Horror Team Cover Art from Ninerio More of the artist’s works at ninerioarts    ��           Original YouTube link: I got a job EXPLORING Caves. This is my SCARIEST Story.        Merch: lighthousehorror.shop For more stories like this one, check out my YouTube channel: Lighthouse Horror | YouTube  Patreon: Lighthouse Horror | Patreon Music: Lucas King - YouTube Myuu - YouTube  Incompetech Darren Curtis Music - YouTube  Thank you for listening to this scary story! If you enjoyed this new creepypasta story, please check out some of my other horror stories. We'll be uploading new episodes every week, featuring ghost stories, haunted encounters, mysteries, true stories, creepypasta, and anything supernatural and paranormal. Don't miss out on the thrill and suspense that await you in each episode!

My name is Jack. I'm 24, and I make my living crawling around in the dark. You could call me a caver. But it's not just a job for me. It's an obsession. I guide tourists through winding tunnels and squeeze them through tight spaces they didn't think they could fit into. They pay me to teach them how to conquer their fears, but, truth be told, I'm not much braver than anyone else. I've just learned to shove fear into a corner and ignoring. it. Most of the time, I got into caving by accident. When I was a kid, my family visited a cavern on vacation. It was one of those big tourist attractions with paved paths and handrails, the kind of place they light up with colored bulbs to make it look pretty. I was 10. But even back then, I wanted more, you know? I remember asking the guide where the tunnels went, and he said,

Now where you'd want to go, kid. That stuck with me. I decided I did want to go wherever those tunnels led. A few years later, I convinced my dad to take me to a local caving club meeting. Those guys, grizzled old men with beards, calloused hands, and stories about getting stuck for hours and passages no wider than your shoulders. They were my heroes. By the time I was 18, I was spending. every weekend underground. I'd crawl into places so tight you couldn't even lift your head. I'd come home

with bruises on my ribs and mud in places mud should never be. And I'd call it a good time. My mom thought it was crazy. My dad just said, Better than sitting in front of a screen all day. Now, caving is my life. I work for a company that runs tours in a massive cave system. I know every twist and turn like the back of my hand. I've memorized the names of every stalactite and every flowstone formation. On weekends, though, I go rogue. No guided tours, no safety rails, just me, my helmet, and my headlap. Looking for the places no one else has been brave or dumb enough to go. There's something about the unknown that pulls me in.

A dark uncharted passage is like a mystery waiting to be solved. I'll crawl through 100 feet of mud just to see what's on the other side. And sometimes, you know, it's nothing more than rock. But other times, it is a cavern so beautiful. Takes your breath away. That's the high I'm always chasing. This weekend, I decided to check out a new area. I'd heard rumors about a cave system in the woods about an hour's drive from town.

It wasn't on any maps, and nobody seemed to know much about it. And that was all the invitation I needed. I packed my gear, helmet, ropes, flashlight, extra batteries, snacks, and set out early Saturday morning. The trailhead wasn't marked, but I'd found a vague description of how to get there in an old forum post. Follow the creek until you see a rock shaped like a bear's head, it said. The entrance is just past that. The hike was peaceful at first.

The woods were quiet, except for the crunch of leaves under my boots, and the occasional chirp of a bird. The air smelled like damp earth and pine. I found the bear-shaped rock just where the post said it would be. It did look like a bear, in a lopsided, sort of way. with moss growing over its ears. Just beyond it, I spotted the entrance. It was a jagged hold in the side of a limestone bluff, half hidden by ferns.

The opening was barely wide enough to crawl through. Perfect. I pulled out my flashlight and shone it into the darkness. The beam disappeared into a black void. My pulse quickened. This was it, an unexplored case. Maybe nobody had ever set foot inside. I mean, that's not possible, right? But anyway. I slid into the opening on my stomach, wriggling forward like a snake. The rock scraped against my

jacket, but I didn't mind. This was the part I loved, the feeling of being swallowed by the earth, of leaving the world behind. As the light from the entrance faded, I felt that familiar mix of excitement and unease. What lay ahead? I had no idea. Now the first chamber wasn't much to look at, a low-ceilinged room with rough walls and a floor covered in loose rocks. I crouched and scanned the space with my flashlight. There were two passages leading out. One was narrow and sloped upward. The other was wide enough to walk through, but I plunged steeply into the depth. I chose the steep one. As I descended, the air grew cooler and heavier.

My breath echoed in a confined space. The walls seemed to close in around me, and I had to duck to avoid scraping my helmet. I kept going, deeper and deeper. And that's when I saw the first sign that something wasn't right. It was a wooden box, just lying there on the cave floor. Like someone had left it behind. At first, I thought it was just an old toolbox, or maybe part of some abandoned mining equipment.

But when I crouched down to take a closer look, my flashlight caught the sharp edges of nails hammered into the corners. It wasn't a box. It was a coffin. I froze. My brain scrambled for a rational explanation. This had to be a prank, right? Some weird macab joke left by other cavers

to freak out anybody who wandered in here. I laughed nervously, but the sound felt out of place in the stillness. My laughter faded, swallowed by the oppressive silence of the cave. I stood there for a while, trying to decide what to do. Eventually, curiosity won out.

I stepped closer and swept my flashlight over it, and that's when I saw them. Three more coffins arranged in a neat little row, all identical, all eerily pristine, considering the damp, muddy environment. They were spaced evenly apart like someone had carefully measured the distance between them. What the hell? I muttered to myself, the sound of my own voice, making me feel a little less alone. My chest tightened, and a cold knot of unease began to form in my stomach. This couldn't be real.

Who would drag coffins down here? And why? I stepped closer to the first one, my boots crunching on the gravelly floor. It was just a plain wooden box. unvarnished. The wood looked old but not rotted, which didn't make sense. In this damp environment, anything organic should have decayed long ago. My hand hovered over the lid, hesitating. Every rational part of me screamed to leave it alone, to turn around and get the hell out of here. But the pull of curiosity was too strong. Slowly, I gripped the edge and lifted.

The lid creaked open, and the smell hit me first, a faint, musty odor like dirt. My flashlight beam trembled as I aimed it inside. A child. A little boy, maybe six or seven, years old. His skin was pale, and his hair was a dusty blonde. He was dressed in what looked like old-fashioned clothes, a button-up shirt and suspenders, the kind of thing you'd see in a black and white photo. His hands were folded neatly over his chest, clutching a small wooden toy. I slammed the lid shut and stumbled backward. My heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burn. It might This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. Maybe it was a dummy. Some elaborate prop to scare explorers. Yeah, yeah, that had to be it. I just needed to prove it to myself. I forced myself to move

to the next coffin, the unease in my stomach, now clawing at my insides. The second one was slightly larger. My hands trembled as I lifted the lid. Inside was a little girl, no older than ten. She was dressed in a lacy, white dress, the kind you'd wear to a wedding or a funeral. Her dark hair was braided neatly over one shoulder, and her hands were clasped around a small porcelain doll. Her eyes were closed, and her face looked so peaceful, like she was just sleeping. But there was no rise and fall.

of her chest, no warmth to her skin. I backed away again, my flashlight flickering, as if it was reacting to the growing panic inside me. My brain screamed for me to leave, to abandon this nightmare and run back to the surface. But something kept me rooted there. Maybe it was the need to understand, or maybe I was just too scared to move. The third coffin was even larger. This one had to hold an adult. I hesitated. Every part of me begged to stop,

but I leaned forward and lifted the lid. A man, mid-30s, maybe 40, he had sharp features, high cheekbones. He wore a dark suit that was slightly frayed at the edges. His hands were clasped over his stomach. stomach, and his skin was just as pale as the children's. The fourth coffin was identical in size, and I already knew what I'd find before I opened it. Sure enough, inside was a woman, likely in her 30s. She was beautiful, with long, dark hair, and a serene expression. She wore a simple dress,

the fabric worn but clean. Her hands held a small bouquet of dried flowers. A family, two parents, two children, lying here in this dark forgotten cave, as if they belonged here. I staggered back and pressed myself against the wall, my breathing coming in short, ragged gasps. My flashlight trembled in my hand, causing jittery shadows across the walls.

I didn't know what to think, what to believe. Who were they? How long had they been here? And why? I crouched down, trying to steady my breathing, when I noticed something I hadn't seen before. Carved into the rock wall above the coffins was a message, etched in jasmine. We wait for the light. The words sent a chill down my spine.

They didn't make sense, but something about them felt final. I stood there for a long time staring at the coffins, the message, the family frozen in time. A million questions raced through my mind, but I had no answers. I stood frozen, my flashlight beam trembling against the jagged letters carved into the wall. The silence pressed against me. And then the air shifted. It wasn't a sound exactly, more like a vibration, a faint stirring. I turned back towards the coffins, and the lids were moving.

It was subtle at first. a faint creek of wood that could almost be mistaken for the groaning of the cave itself. But then the lid slid open, one by one, as if something inside was pushing them aside. My legs locked in place.

My breath caught in my throat. The man sat up. Quickly. Very quickly. It scared the hell to me. His pain. Male face turned toward the woman, who was rising in a slower manner. The children followed.

Their small, frail forms unfolding like marionettes. None of them spoke, but their heads swiveled in unison. Their empty, unblinking gazes scanning the cavern. I dove behind a cluster of rocks, barely daring to breathe. My flashlight was still on, and its faint glist. threatened to give me away. I fumbled to switch it off, plunging myself into darkness again.

My pulse pounded in my ears as I pressed my back against the cold, damp stone, trying to make myself as small as possible. Do you smell that? A voice broke the silence, smooth and cold as the cave walls. It was the man. His voice echoed strangely, like it didn't quite belong in this world.

Yes, the woman replied. Her tone was softer, almost sing-song, but it carried an edge that made my skin crawl. Something fresh. Warm. A pause. A man, one of the children said. He's close. I clenched my teeth to keep from gasping.

My hand crept to my mouth, covering it to stifle the sound of my panicked breathing. The sound of shifting movements filled the cavern, as the family climbed out of their coffins. Their footsteps were deliberate, but eerily soft, like they barely touched the ground. I dared to peek out from behind the rock just for a second. The faint glow of their pale skin was the only thing visible in the darkness, like a ghost gliding across the cavern floor. He must be near the entrance. The man said,

We should block it. He'll come to us when there's no other way. A cold dread hit me. That was my escape route. I waited, barely breathing, as the sound of their movements grew distant. I imagined them stacking rocks, dragging debris to seal me in. Their pale faces set with grim determination. My heart sank.

They were cutting me off from the world above, trapping me here, in the darkness. For a long moment, I didn't move. I couldn't. My mind was racing, trying to process what I'd just seen and heard. Not if it made sense. People don't just wake up from coffins. They don't sit up like that. Don't smell their prey. And yet here I was. I needed to think, to plan, but my thoughts were scrambled by sheer terror. The only clear thing was that I couldn't go back. I was. I couldn't go back. I was. I needed to think, to plan, but my thoughts were scrambled by sheer terror. the only clear thing was that I couldn't go back the way I came. I'd have to go deeper, find another exit, if one even existed. I gritted my teeth and turned my flashlight back on, angling the beam low to avoid giving away my position. The light flickered, as though the batteries were struggling,

but it held steady enough to guide me forward. I crept into one of the ones. the narrower tunnels leading away from the main chamber, each step feeling like I was plunging deeper into a nightmare. The tunnel was tied, forcing me to crouch and sometimes crawl on all fours. The rock pressed in around me, and the air grew heavier with each passing moment. Every sound was amplified, the scrape of my boots, the rasp of my breath, the faint drip of water somewhere in the distance. I tried not to think about the family, about their pale faces and their haunting voices,

but their words echoed in my mind. Do you smell food? They'd asked. I shuddered. I didn't dare look back. The idea of seeing one of them creeping after me, their glowing faces appearing out of the dark, It was too much. The tunnel twisted and turned, sometimes widening into small chambers, other times narrowing,

to the point where I had to squeeze through on my stomach. I lost all sense of direction. The further I went, the more disoriented I became. Every now and then, I thought I heard faint voices behind me, carried by the twisting passages. He can't go far. He'll tire soon. I shook my head trying to block him out. They couldn't know where I was, just my mind playing tricks on me.

That's what I told myself anyway. After what felt like hours, I stumbled into a larger chamber. The air was thicker here, and the smell of damp earth was overpowered by something else. Blood. My flashlight lit up the space, revealing a gruesome sight. Bones, piles of them, scattered across the floor like discarded trash, some rolled, yellowed, and brittle, while others looked disturbingly fresh, with scrapes of flesh still clinging to them. My stomach lurched, and I gisturbed.

gagged, clapping a hand over my mouth to stop from retching. This was their lair, their feeding ground. I was not the first person they'd trapped down here, and I wouldn't be the last. A faint sound made me freeze. Footsteps, soft, deliberate, coming from the tunnel I'd just crawled through. I killed my flashlight and pressed myself. against the wall, blending into the darkness as best I could. My heart thundered in my chest, so loud I was sure they'd hear it. The footsteps grew closer, accompanied by the faint sound

of breathing. A low raspy inhale, followed by an exhale, that almost sounded like a sigh. Close. The man's voice murmured. so quiet it was almost a whisper. He's close. I didn't move. I didn't breathe. I pressed my back against the cold rock, willing myself to disappear into the darkness.

The footsteps stopped. For a moment. There is nothing but silence. And then a soft chuckle. You can't hide forever. The sound of their footsteps faded as they moved deeper into the tunnels, searching. I stayed where I was, too terrified to move. My mind raised, desperate for a plan, but all I could think about was the growing certainty

that I was not getting out of here alive. The footsteps faded, but I didn't dare move. My back was pressed so hard against the jagged wall, that I could feel the uneven rock digging into my spine. My breaths were shallow, measured, and quiet, the kind you'd take when you know any sound could give you away. Somewhere in the distance, I thought I heard faint whispers,

like the family was speaking to one another, but their words were impossible to make out. I had to keep going. Sitting here would only delay the inevitable, and I didn't like my odds if they came back this way. Turning on my flashlight as dimly as possible, I scanned the chamber. The bones scattered across the floor, gleamed dully in the faint light, each one a silent warning.

Leave if you can. I pushed forward, crawling into the next passage, which was narrower and steeper than the last. The walls seemed to press against me more tightly now, like the cave itself was conspiring to trap me. My hand slipped on the damp rock, and my legs ached as I scrambled deeper into the earth, further from anything that felt remotely safe.

Every muscle in my body screamed at me to turn around, to go back. But I couldn't. Not with them somewhere behind me. Their pale faces and those dead, unblinking, eyes. As I crawled, I started hearing things again. Faint sounds, a soft chuckle. The scrape of movement echoing down the tunnel. They were close. Come back, the man called. You'll only make this harder. I gritted my teeth and kept moving. My palms stung from scraping

against sharp edges, but I didn't care. Pain was better than stopping, better than being caught. Another voice, the woman's this time, drifted toward me. You're only tiring yourself out, dear. It won't help. It felt like the air around me and grew colder, the deeper I went. The passage opened into another chamber. But it wasn't relief, I felt. It was dread, because the chamber wasn't empty. They were there. The family, all four of them, standing perfectly still,

their pale faces turned toward the tunnel I'd just crawled out of. My breath caught in my throat as I scrambled backward, but it was too late. Their heads snapped in unison, their unblinking eyes locking up. to mine. There you are, the man said, his lips curling into a slow smile. I didn't think. I just ran. The tunnel was tighter now, my shoulders scraping against the walls as I stumbled forward.

The air smelled sour like rot and every breath burned in my chest. Behind me, I could hear them moving. not running or chasing, just walking. Their footsteps were deliberate, unhurried, as if they knew I had nowhere to go. You go in the wrong way, the little boy said, his voice echoing unnaturally through the passage. There's nothing for you down there.

I ignored him, pressing forward even as the passage grew steeper, more jagged. My flashlight flickered again, and I smacked it against my palm, muttering a desperate curse. The beam steadied. But I knew it wouldn't last much longer.

The sound of their footsteps grew louder, closer. We don't have to do this, the woman said. Come back and we'll make it quick. I couldn't stop myself from looking back, just a glance. There they were, crouched low in the tunnel.

Their pale faces hit by my dying flashlight. The children grinned me, their teeth unnervingly white, and the man tilted his head, watching me and smiling. I scrambled forward, my hands and knees slamming against the rock. I wasn't even thinking anymore, just moving, desperate to get away. The tunnel curved sharply, and then impossibly. There it was. Light. A faint circular beam of sunlight spilled through a crack in the ceiling, cutting through the oppressive darkness like a lifeline. My heart surged. I didn't think about how it made no sense for sunlight to be down here, I didn't care. It was light, and I was going to reach

it. I staggered into the chamber, the sunlight warming my face for the first time since I'd entered this nightmare. My legs trembled as I stood upright, my back straightening for the first time in hours. The circle of light was small, no more than a few feet wide, but it felt. felt like stepping into another world. The footsteps stopped. I turned slowly, my breath hitching as I saw them emerge from the shadows, one by one. The man, the woman, the children.

They surrounded the beam of sunlight standing just outside its reach. Their faces were expressionless now, but their eyes gleamed with something cold and calculates. You think this will save you, the man asked. I didn't answer. The woman smiled, tilting her head as she studied me. It's clever, but cleverness won't keep the sun from setting. The little girl giggled,

This is a fun game. We can wait. They didn't move closer. They just stood there. The man folded his arms, and his smile widened. The sun won't last much longer. I looked up, my eyes tracing the beam of light to its source. He was already fading. The edges of the circle growing dimmer as the minutes ticked by.

I didn't know what to do. I sank to my knees in the center of the light, my body trembling. The laughter started then, soft and cruel, echoing off the walls of the cavern. It came from all of them, their voices blending together in a haunting symphony. I closed my eyes, my breath ragged. There was no escape, no way out. And the sun would soon be setting. The sunlight was shrinking, minute by minute, and I could feel my time slipping away.

The circle of light that had been my shield was now barely big enough for me to sit in. I hugged my knees, my flashlight dead at my side, and I stared at them. They were patient. The man stood just outside the fading light, his pace. face stretched into a smug smile. His wife was beside him. Her head tilted slightly, studying me like I was some kind of exotic animal in a cage. The children stood close to their parents, silent and still, their dark eyes fixed on May. Every so often, the little girl would giggle softly, the sound like nails dragging down my spine. The circle of protection was shrinking,

inch by inch, and with every bit it receded. The family stepped closer. The boy was the first to move. His small pale foot stepped into the shadow just beyond the edge of light. Then another step. At another? He stopped. just short of the shrinking circle, grinning at May. You smell scared, he said. It's good. Fear makes it sweeter. Enough, darling, the woman said.

She placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and smiled down at him. Let him have his last moments in peace. They were waiting for the light to die, waiting for me to be swallowed by the darkness they thrived in. I clenched my jaw of my mind racing. I couldn't let this be the end. There had to be something I could do. The circle of light shrank again.

The woman stepped closer, her bare feet gliding soundlessly across the rocky floor. She was only a few feet away now, and the smile on her face was sharper. I wanted to scream, to lash out, to do anything but just sit here and wait to die. My hands fumbled at my chest, clutching at my jacket like it could somehow shield me. And that's what I felt it. The crucifix.

The small silver cross I always wore on a chain around my neck. the one my grandmother had given me. I'd forgotten it was there, buried beneath layers of fabric. My fingers wrapped around it instinctively, and for a moment I hesitated. Did I really believe it would do anything? It was just a symbol, just metal. But I didn't have any better ideas. I pulled the crucifix free, the chain glinting faintly,

in the dying sunlight. The movement caught their attention immediately. The man's eyes narrowed, and the smile slipped from his face. My hand trembled as I held the crucifix in front of me, the silver catching the last rays of sunlight. The woman's expression darkened, and she took a cautious step back.

Put that down, she said. Her voice no longer soft. I didn't. I stood slowly. The shrinking circle of light barely large enough to hold me upright. The children hissed, their faces twisting into something that was no longer human. I stepped forward, holding the crucifix out like a shield. And the reaction was immediate.

The man recoiled, his face contorted with an. anger and fear. That won't save you, he growled. But his voice wavered. I took another step, and they all took a step back, hissing and snarling like cornered animals. The light was almost gone now, just a faint glow around my feet. But the crucifix seemed to hold its own power. They wouldn't come closer.

Stay back, I said. My voice trembling, but firm. The man lunged forward. But as soon as the crucifix caught the faintest glint of light, he stumbled back with a guttural snarl. His skin sizzled where the silver had caught him, a faint wisp of smoke rising from his hand. And I didn't wait for him to regroup,

clutching the crucifix like it was my only lifeline, I began moving toward the tunnel. The family circled me, staying just out of reach, their eyes burning with hatred. The children hissed and snapped their teeth, and the woman's face twisted into a mask of rage. My focus was on the tunnel I had, on putting as much distance as I could between myself and them. Every step felt like a battle. my body trembling with fear and exhaustion. The crucifix seemed to almost burn in my hand,

but I held it tighter. I didn't let it go. The family followed me, their movements eerily fluid, and the tunnel grew wider as I moved, the air cooler and fresher. My heart leapt when I saw a faint glow ahead, the entrance, the way out. They saw it too.

The woman lunged forward, but the crucifix drove her back again. Her skin blistering where the light touched her, near what looked like a rose tattoo on her right arm. The children cried out, their voices high and unnatural, and the man's face twisted into a snarl of pure rage. I stumbled toward the entrance. The cool evening air washing over me like a bomb. The sunlight was almost gone, the horizon painted with the last streaks of orange and purple. I didn't stop moving. As I crossed the threshold, the family stopped.

They stood just inside the cave, their pale faces framed by the shadows, the last streaks of sunlight glinting off their unblinking eyes. For a moment, none of them moved. And then the little boy tilted his head, his hair falling into his face. Mom, I'm sad. He could have been part of the family. The man stood at the center, his expression unreadable. And I didn't wait. My legs ran toward the car. My hand shook as I jam the key into the ignition, and the engine roared to live.

I drove faster than I ever had before, the headlights cutting through the thickening dark, and I didn't stop, not even to look back. When I got to town, I couldn't stay silent. I went straight to the local police, stumbling into the lobby, my words tumbling out in a panicked rush about the family in the cave. The officer behind the desk looked at me like I'd grown a second head. A pale family in a cave, he said, leaning back in his chair. And they hissed at your crucifix.

I nodded, breathless. Trying to emphasize how serious this was. They blocked the entrance. They were, they are dangerous. People need to stay away from that place. Look, I swear, I'm not crazy. The officer exchanged a look with. his partner.

Yeah, sure, we'll look into it, he said. But his tone was dismissive. It was clear he didn't believe me. Next, I tried the locals. At the diner, at the gas station, anywhere people would listen. Most humored me with polite nods or nervous truckles, but I could see it in their eyes. They thought I was just some weird outsider with a wild imagination.

Finally, desperate. I went to the church. The priest was old, maybe in his 70s, with a kind but skeptical face. I told him everything. Every detail of the family, the coffins, the shrinking sunlight, and the crucifix. He listened patiently, nodding occasionally, but his expression didn't change. When I finished, He sighed and leaned back in his chair. Son, he sent. His voice slow and measured. People often see things they don't understand. In moments of great fear,

I'm sure what you experienced felt real to you. But it was real, I interrupted, slamming my hand on the desk. They're still out there, waiting for someone else to just one, enter into that cave. He studied me for a long moment, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. I'll pray for you, son, he said simply. His tone was kind, but I could tell he didn't believe a word I'd said. I stood, defeated, and turned to leave. Just as I reached the door, the priest's voice stopped me. That tattoo, he said, his voice suddenly sharper. The one you mentioned on the young woman's arm, what did you say it was again? I turned back, confused. It was a rose, I said.

It looked just like a, I don't know, a simple black rose. The priest face drained of color. He sat back heavily in his chair, his hand gripping the armrest. Arrose, he whispered, more to himself than to me. His lips barely moved as he muttered. Could be a coincidence. It must be a coincidence. I frowned, stepping closer. What does that mean?

Do you know something about them? But he didn't answer. His gaze was distant, fixed on something far beyond the room we were in. I waited. But when it was clear, he wasn't going to say anything else. I left. I couldn't stay in that town. Hell, I couldn't even stay in that state.

The cave, the family, the priest reaction. It was all too much. Within a week, I packed up. everything I owned and moved halfway across the country. Some were new, somewhere far away from any caves or dark, winding tunnels. I tried to move on, but the memories lingered. I couldn't shake the image of their faces. I kept hearing their voices. I kept the crucifix close, tucked under my shirt at all times, like it was the only thing keeping me safe. And then a few weeks later, I saw the news.

It was a short article buried in the local section of an online paper. A series of caves near the area I'd left had collapsed unexpectedly. No one was injured. There weren't any reports of people being inside. But the caves were now completely sealed off. The article mentioned it as a freak geological event or a cave. in, nothing more. But I knew better. The timing, the location. It was too much of a coincidence. I couldn't prove it, and I didn't need to, but I was certain the priest had something to do with it.

Maybe he'd gone back to the cave after I laughed. Maybe he'd seen something that convinced him I was telling the truth. Maybe he'd done something drastic to make sure, no one else would ever meet that family. I'll never know for sure. The priest didn't leave any notes, and the article didn't mention him. But I couldn't stop picturing his pale face when I told him about the rose tattoo.

Whatever he knew. Whatever he'd seen. I'm glad he did it. Maybe they were crushed by the rocks. Maybe they're dead. but I don't think so. All I can hope is that they're trapped in that place, starving,

and that they never get out.