Catacombs by ucarr
Whats that marking on the wall just ahead? Its an arrow! Hallelujah! And its the same color as the last arrow. And best of all, its pointing in the same direction. Maybe Ive got a chance of getting out of here after all. Got to keep finding more arrows pointing the way back. How I long to climb up through the tunnel, finally pushing back the grating and entering the courtyard of the cathedral.
Just think, this misery started with a glass of Merlot.
Justin, my connection in Bordeaux has finally come through.
Lars handed me the glass of dark wine and, delighted, I sipped it.
I await your opinion.
Lars, you know Im a complete blank when it comes to wines.
Your smile is telling me something.
Its very smooth, and the taste
Yes?
Why, its so good, Im almost afraid.
His slowly expanding smile was diabolical.
Im still trying to fathom my willingness to fly to Paris on short notice, beckoned by Lars. What could make me abandon the encampment at the base of the Sierra Nevadas? The geological dig with my colleagues at Southwestern College had been planned more than a year in advance.
I must be falling apart. Now Im without my geological hammer down in these deadly catacombs below Paris for the second time. Millions of bodies buried here, dating back to the 18th century. In these close and suffocating tunnels one might use a pick hammer to clear breathing space.
Whats that drawing over there? A crude likeness of a womans face. Olga? Must be seeing things. Now that Im hopelessly lost, down here in the lower depths some three hundred feet below the surface, Im overheated, sweating profusely and hallucinating.
Olga! Is that you? Beautiful Olga. I miss you so. Oh no. Im still vice-gripped in the throes of guilt. Stop it! Dont go off the deep end. Keep your cool. Youre okay. Youll get out. Check your light. Its your lifeline. Dim! No longer hurts my eyes. Thats Bad.
She was a fetching blonde with big eyes and a surplus of charm.
Justin, I want you to meet Olga. Shell be joining us for the expedition to the catacombs.
Very nice to know you, Justin.
Same here. Say, is that a Swedish accent stroking my eardrums?
Lars, annoyed, shot me a disapproving glance. I crashed to earth, embarrassed at being so blatant.
No. Its my Norwegian accent. Sorry to disappoint.
No disappointment. Norwegian will do just as well.
I glanced at Lars. No disapproval this time.
What? What! Who is that lying over there? The blonde hair. Could it be her? Still lying where we left her? No. No. No. Turning around. Cant turn around. This is the only way out. Besides, Lars is back there, advancing. This is the only way back to fresh air and life and love! Back to pretty girls who dont fall down caverns and die. Olga? Is that you still lying there, where we left you three years ago?
Keep holding onto my hand, Olga! Keep holding! Lars! Shes slipping away! Her fingers are slipping out of my hand!
Sharp, electric shriek of sudden death. Silence.
Delirium. Confession to the stone walls closing in on me.
The first expedition to the Paris catacombs was my idea. Im a geologist. Working catacombs is my thing. Convinced Lars, anthropologist. A million French bones from antiquity? That is his thing. Olga, biologist. Life was her thing.
I convinced us to break the law. Steal into the restricted area. I convinced Lars to leave her bones amongst the million French bones. Bones that haunt me.
Now, on this second expedition, Im on the run from Lars. I dont trust his intentions.
Rage against the dying of the light, wrote the poet. My light goes out. Utter blackness. Whats that sound?! A pick hammer, cutting rock, getting closer.
Lars?!
Just think, this misery started with a glass of Merlot.
Justin, my connection in Bordeaux has finally come through.
Lars handed me the glass of dark wine and, delighted, I sipped it.
I await your opinion.
Lars, you know Im a complete blank when it comes to wines.
Your smile is telling me something.
Its very smooth, and the taste
Yes?
Why, its so good, Im almost afraid.
His slowly expanding smile was diabolical.
Im still trying to fathom my willingness to fly to Paris on short notice, beckoned by Lars. What could make me abandon the encampment at the base of the Sierra Nevadas? The geological dig with my colleagues at Southwestern College had been planned more than a year in advance.
I must be falling apart. Now Im without my geological hammer down in these deadly catacombs below Paris for the second time. Millions of bodies buried here, dating back to the 18th century. In these close and suffocating tunnels one might use a pick hammer to clear breathing space.
Whats that drawing over there? A crude likeness of a womans face. Olga? Must be seeing things. Now that Im hopelessly lost, down here in the lower depths some three hundred feet below the surface, Im overheated, sweating profusely and hallucinating.
Olga! Is that you? Beautiful Olga. I miss you so. Oh no. Im still vice-gripped in the throes of guilt. Stop it! Dont go off the deep end. Keep your cool. Youre okay. Youll get out. Check your light. Its your lifeline. Dim! No longer hurts my eyes. Thats Bad.
She was a fetching blonde with big eyes and a surplus of charm.
Justin, I want you to meet Olga. Shell be joining us for the expedition to the catacombs.
Very nice to know you, Justin.
Same here. Say, is that a Swedish accent stroking my eardrums?
Lars, annoyed, shot me a disapproving glance. I crashed to earth, embarrassed at being so blatant.
No. Its my Norwegian accent. Sorry to disappoint.
No disappointment. Norwegian will do just as well.
I glanced at Lars. No disapproval this time.
What? What! Who is that lying over there? The blonde hair. Could it be her? Still lying where we left her? No. No. No. Turning around. Cant turn around. This is the only way out. Besides, Lars is back there, advancing. This is the only way back to fresh air and life and love! Back to pretty girls who dont fall down caverns and die. Olga? Is that you still lying there, where we left you three years ago?
Keep holding onto my hand, Olga! Keep holding! Lars! Shes slipping away! Her fingers are slipping out of my hand!
Sharp, electric shriek of sudden death. Silence.
Delirium. Confession to the stone walls closing in on me.
The first expedition to the Paris catacombs was my idea. Im a geologist. Working catacombs is my thing. Convinced Lars, anthropologist. A million French bones from antiquity? That is his thing. Olga, biologist. Life was her thing.
I convinced us to break the law. Steal into the restricted area. I convinced Lars to leave her bones amongst the million French bones. Bones that haunt me.
Now, on this second expedition, Im on the run from Lars. I dont trust his intentions.
Rage against the dying of the light, wrote the poet. My light goes out. Utter blackness. Whats that sound?! A pick hammer, cutting rock, getting closer.
Lars?!
Comments (29)
Sorry dear author, this one whiffed for me.
Quoting Baden
I'll be sure to try this guaranteed winner out.
Look, I really liked this part:
Quoting Baden
The protagonist misses her. It might be just my taste, but I wanted to know more about Olga. I mean, more involvement from her in the plot. As she quickly appears in the story, she leaves early.
If only she would have had more presence, I think the readers would have also felt that feeling of missing her that I guess it is the intention of the author. Poor Olga! :sad:
The rest of the story and the core idea are pretty good, honestly. Stay away from Lars! :smile:
Underground place of the dead. I've never been tempted to visit any. Dark, claustrophobic and spooky, I would freak out. So, the title already intrigues and fills me with dread.
Quoting Baden
Praise be to God, a sign to follow. To safety? Who would leave the arrows? Or is it simply for visitors, enter here and follow the yellow brick road...climbing up to the Cathedral courtyard.
I'm down there, now, in the dark. What next?
Quoting Baden
A single stand-out line, great hook. Merlot and misery, hmmm, what's not to like?
Short and sweet dialogue to introduce the characters, Justin (narrator) and Lars (a Scandinavian devil?)
Quoting Baden
Back to the present with J questioning just how he got here - manipulated by Lars to leave an important excavation project. J is one curious guy. What is the attraction?
He has returned to a place of death without his tool to unpick old truth or a way out.
Short and succinct description of the atmosphere:
Quoting Baden
Then, another question or hallucination as J sees a ghost in a drawing. Olga? I can imagine a faded picture hung alongside the dead in memory. I feel the overwhelming sense of loss of place, person and direction. This, an excellent capture:
Quoting Baden
Followed by frantic questions and the attempt to keep mentally stable. Brilliant short phrases echoing gasps of breath, guilt (why?) and fear of losing the light:
Quoting Baden
As a reader, I begin to care. Who is Olga? The author's brief description and the introduction dialogue shows her impact on J very well. He fell in love! For some reason Lars didn't approve and J cares about this. Why? Interesting - the competition between Sweden and Norway. Do we have a love triangle?
Back to the present with more questions, exclamations and the past. J wants to escape from all of this.
But there is no going back. He wants 'fresh air and life and love'. Far away from the guilt he still carries. Olga dead but not forgotten. The memory of the incident screams at him. He recalls every word, action and sound, ending with:
Quoting Baden
I love J's 'confession to the stone walls closing in on me'. Is he about to die and this tomb will be his final resting place? The story and music of the past, starting with an idea, a project attracting like and unlike minds. The geologist, the anthropologist, the biologist. What? No philosopher? Or perhaps they were among the dead...
J is the guilty party. Or is he? His passion made him break the law. And, finally, was complicit in leaving another set of bones, adding to the pile. Now, he is paying for it. Why is Lars so angry? Now, after 3yrs...
Brooding and planning all this time?
Quoting Baden
We are left not knowing the end. Fearing for the life of Justin. But perhaps the quote holds a clue.
Light and the fight against darkness. The will to live...
***
Excellent writing! :flower: :sparkle:
Ah well, it seems we differ! I enjoyed the balance of dialogue and description.
Quoting javi2541997
Olga is there throughout. In J's mind, in the hallucinatory picture, his memories. In life and death.
Now a ghost. Being dug up.
Quoting javi2541997
Again, Olga is deeply present. The reason why J and L are there in the first place.
me too! sounds as if he'd come all this way for a glass of wine - somewhat reminiscent of amonitllado - then suddenly there is a woman and miles of uncharted catacomb - twice? i can't see the characters, their motivation, or the woman' death. it seems she fell into an unexplained hole, where they could have brought her out from, but didn't, and nobody else was looking for her.... all very strange.
A playful nonchalance on part of the narrator over a grave circumstance.
Two men and a woman go into the underground. Two men come out. Psychopathic character traits in men. Two men return to the underground and suffer the paranoia of more grave possibilities?
:chin:
Something about the perennial pursuit of sex and its accidents. A psychosexual parable.
Love triangles, or giddy man boys, need a fourth wheel chaperone, especially in the catacombs.
I like the gothic feel but agree that more words, for detail may help to bring it forward in a starker way. The character of Olga is worthwhile and central and greater detail may have enabled her to stand out more, although the story does work as it is.
...is just telling us of his feelings. Especially for being in that dire situation he's a bit too lucid and observant of his situation for us to sense him really feeling in danger. Instead of him just saying what he's experiencing, show it. Let the perfume scent of Olga cut through the damp moist of moldy skeletons, let her voice echo from the dark to his confusion. Expand the emotions to events that makes the reader feel the feeling rather than being told that's how he feels.
And it rushes through too fast. If the story spent a little more time on getting to know the characters, showing the physical atmosphere of being buried in the catacombs with guilt. Build up the tension more, then the reader aligns emotionally with his predicament.
Right now it skips back and forth in time in a way that mostly just confuses and we get almost nothing about Olga before she falls to death. Also, what's an "electric shriek of sudden death"?
And I really don't get what the plot is about beyond is guilt and being trapped. Olga died three years ago, but now he's back on a second expedition and feeling guilty? Was the second expedition there for him to face his guilt? To finally find Olgas bones? But why is he on the run from Lars? Why doesn't he trust Lars intentions? And what was the purpose of illegally going down into the catacombs? Both times the "crew" discuss things, they discuss wine and Swedish accents, not the purpose of what they're about to do, or hint at some shadiness from Lars that would trigger his thoughts about Lars not being trustworthy.
So, I think this needs to be fleshed out a lot more. Less statements about the situation and more describing the experience through actions, sensory sensations, and things that happen; more character moments that are substantial for the characters and why they care about each other.
It works as a form of first draft, but needs more work..
And some of the lines are just stinkers. In addition to the Swedish Eardrums,
Quoting Baden
made me groan inwardly. If we had a compendium of all world history's internal monologues, I doubt a ctrl-f seach would yield that one.
Overall I liked it better this time around, but still not my favorite. But that's just me, take it for what its worth. I'm glad other readers have a different take, especially @Amity and the very helpful window she gives into her reading experience.
Generally, constructive criticism is bound to be helpful. But at times, the same criticism is repeated and at length. From different people. For me, it can be 'heavy handed' and a bit of a pile-on, when e.g. everyone agrees that more should or could be written. Well, yes and no. For different reasons.
I 'get' the point re the internal dialogue. I looked again. And wonder how I missed it. I tend to sidestep or slide over things that annoy others. I think I don't groan enough. Sometimes, what makes one person frown in confusion or annoyance, makes me smile. I wonder at the author's reaction - their thoughts and feelings. If we will ever know.
I apologise for any unwarranted negativity I've shown re other readers' feedback.
We're all here to do our best. To make this whole experience enjoyable and to learn. It's all good.
Enough about me, me, me. It's all about the story! :flower: :sparkle:
There are still more to read, enjoy and blether about. Best wishes. :pray:
Quoting Nils Loc
i don't quite make sense of this one, but i hope the author will shed light.
I hope so too. It's often the case that I get things SO wrong, it's laughable.
This help? :wink:
Quoting Nils Loc
sorry, no. i got that there was something sexual between their being introduced and his abandonment of her body in a crypt, but i've no idea what happened in between.
even if you sneak in, they don't look as they did in the story. the suspicion that this might be the case bothered me some when i was reading it.
Ah, OK. Do you mean in the 3yr interval? This is unknown and open to imagination. My guess would be that the 2 guys separated and continued with whatever project occupied their minds. But with a growing anger on the part of Lars.
He had been 'convinced' to take part in the original plan, then to break the law, finally to leave the body behind. We don't know how he was persuaded, perhaps Justin fluttered his eyes, perhaps he was excited at the prospect of being in a private, dark place with both his loves, perhaps he was scared of the consequences of the police enquiry and the public anger. Of being put in prison.
Olga possibly slipped down a sub-subterranean passage, to a place they couldn't reach. There's an assumption that her death was sudden, no great suffering. Perhaps, her ghost haunted Lars and convinced him to return, to take revenge on Justin, the prime manipulator.
Quoting Vera Mont
I don't understand what you mean?
The author had fun with this story and the main character, even in the dialogue. A bit of an Indiana Jones, without the morals.
The Catacombs have a fascinating history. I learned a new word 'catophile' ! The site is known to be dangerous and unstable, due to previous mine workings with hundreds of miles of tunnels.
Quoting Top 20 Scary Facts about the Paris Catacombs
Lars might have been casing the joint?! :scream:
The possibilities are endless. I think the author will want to continue exploring.
Who can fill the boots of Harrison Ford :chin:
i meant before that. preamble; interaction leading up to and during the first expedition. all very sketchy. i had a little trouble, too, with a geologist's interest in human remains.
he abruptly leaves the site he's working, flies to paris without his tools, has a glass of wine, is introduced to a girl and spends what might turn out to be the rest of his life in deserted mine-shafts.
i'm not good at filling in the blanks
i would have accepted all of it, given a little more story.
That's your story!
I prefer green ones. They're quality. Right up my street! Yum :yum:
You are a uniquely sympathetic reader. Don't ever change that! Unfortunately I am grumpier.
Quoting Amity
I hope people aren't just piling on. Rather I'd suggest that this almost unanimity is a strong signal that something is indeed amiss. As painful as it might be to hear.
That said I was definitely too harsh on this one. Forgive me, author!
Quoting hypericin
This is the same thing as screenings for movies during post production. Gathering a consensus of critique in order to find issues that arent just individual preferences by the viewers.
So Id say that if many say the same thing, thats invaluable feedback for the author to grow from.
OK. I intend, now, to focus on reading what is left of the stories. This Activity is a joy.
Best wishes to all :pray:
I ordered a pizza today because this made me think of yummy triangles. Im too suggestible.
This is a difficult segment to write coming from the first-person perspective. I imagine that a third-person narrator would be more effective in describing the horror of being entombed while alive. [I mean entombed, because there was no escape for him. This we know].
Anything to say about your story. How it came about...?
Hello, Amity,
I'm delighted to have this note of concern from you. I'm flattered by your caring attention. Thank-you. Happily, I can quickly explain my diminished presence in this year's fiction event, which I love, and for which I especially look forward to because of your fiction and your expository writing.
I'm busy writing my novel, so presently I don't have much time for our fiction events. I pulled my imitation Poe story out of the drawer and tossed it in last minute because my ego is too inflated to miss an opportunity for attention. As Wilde said, "The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about."
I'd been procrastinating dangerously with the launching of my novel, but now I'm in gear and going right along. Perhaps you can see where this is going.
I can't think of a reason why you're not chief editor at one of the major publishing houses, unless you specifically don't want to be doing that.
Anyhow, I'm just wondering if you'd... take a look at the first draft of my novel... when it's ready... in the not too distant future?
Uriah
With reference to this:
Quoting ucarr
I'm delighted by your swift response. Thank you. For your writing and style charmant.
Quoting ucarr
Writing a novel is one of the more acceptable reasons for not having the time to fully engage.
However, you are not supposed to pull and toss anything out of your drawers. Such tantalising exposure should be present and in the moment. Together and at one.
I keep meaning to read Poe. But always something else crops up.
Would you care to enlarge on the whats and hows of your imitation? That sure would be swell!
Until then, I only have this:
https://literarydevices.net/literary-writing-style-of-edgar-allan-poe/
https://classic-literature.co.uk/library/edgar-allan-poe/
Quoting ucarr
If the thought of being such had even crossed my mind at an earlier age...
Alas, alack...twas not meant to be...
I am sure I would be honoured to read the first draft of your novel. And, of course, there are other writers/readers here more experienced at giving such feedback. @Vera Mont springs instantly to mind.
And, you will know, there are creative writing groups designed for this task. Not sure of the best...
Amity :sparkle:
I'm not at all sure he'd want me pawing his newborn ms, given how negative I was about this story. However, a novel I had already agreed to comment on here has been pushed to the back burner, for reasons known only to the author; I'm not working on anything atm and my cast comes off a week from today, enabling me to type as badly as ever... So, I'm free - and free.
Ladies, I look forward to you both having a go at my first draft. Amity will supply the joyful perspicacity; Vera Mont will supple the hammer-to-the-head realism. I need both desperately!
Who could've guessed I'd garner excellent peer review for my first draft by nearly missing the latest fiction writing event at TPF?
I'm going to email you some pages. You'll let me know if you care to read further.
Here's my email address: ucarr88@gmail.com
P.S. Amity - Regarding Poe, I'm drawn to the new era of dark romance he ushered in. It has the passion of love, but the tooth of crime lies always near. Poe gets credit for inventing the detective story. Well, dark romance plus detection equals film noir. Now, strangely, I'm lousy at detection and film noir, so perhaps that's the reason my story here is so short.
Well, I'll say ta-ta, creatives
Uriah