She had fallen out of the air, not come in through the ceiling. There was no other explanation for it; the ceiling was so high above her it was invisible. She could only see the walls creeping up until the darkness consumed them. Her flashlight’s light was weak in such a vast space, but the place was so perfectly dark that even a mote of light held power.

At first, it seemed like she was standing in the middle of an odd art exhibit. Or…some kind of surreal park with benches.

Only—stone benches. Until she realized that those flat, square things were graves, reaching up to her midriff in height. Her skin crawled. The young woman swung her flashlight and the shadows danced crazily.

She flinched; each casket cast a long shadow. They creeped across the floor, lengthening, trembling with her hand’s slightest movements. The longer she stared at them—

The more it seemed like something was moving. If she stared too long, she had the feeling something was crouched behind one of the shadows, peeking out.

“Bloody hell.”

She was in a crypt. A mausoleum. No, a—a catacombs? An ossuary?

There were caskets. Tombs. Each one made of stone, sealed by heavy stone lids. Separated by a dozen feet for each—a curiously open design.

And each one large, larger than a Human body needed. And a body could be crammed into very sparse compartments if need be.

She was in a crypt of the dead. The very walls were hollowed out in alcoves, multiple floors by which the dead could be stored in their very inefficient patterns. The young Irish woman shivered. She turned around.

“If this is a prank…”

Her voice trailed off. She couldn’t imagine that, as easy as it was to jump to a trick as a logical reality.

She was suspicious by nature. But this was too vast. Either she had been hit on the head and this was a dream—

Or she was looking at tens of thousands—hundreds of thousands—perhaps millions of graves within this immense catacombs. How had this happened? For a moment—she just stared. Her glowing phone swept around, and she felt the artificial light was unwanted in this solemn place.

An intrusion.

One light in the darkness as vast as…she looked up. Above her, a ceiling so tall that it seemed to be a sky unto itself. She only knew it was a ceiling because there was no light; no stars or even the hint of them behind clouds if it were night, and no daylight.

“Where am I?”

Ireland had no catacombs like this. She was certain.

This…this was beautiful. And terrifying. The young woman looked around. But the darkness was absolute. And no matter where she swung her flashlight—all she saw was more dark stone.

“Hello? Can anyone hear me? Sam?”