Tabula Rasa

The snow gradually thickened until visibility was less than 2 feet, the only evidence of the men ahead was the taught rope leading away from me, tying me to them. The wind rose, snow and ice pelting at us from every direction, the air tearing and grasping at our clothes. Half heard shouts whipped back through the tumult and I tried to run forward to catch up with the group. My leaden feet stumbled forward through the snow though I seemed to gain no ground on the men ahead, the rope stretching ahead into the screaming wind. My legs became tangled and I fell, my rope wrenching free from my waist and slithering away through the snow. I screamed and shouted after the trailing rope, but my words were torn out of my mouth and thrown uselessly into the fray. Knowing I would surely die if I stayed laying where I was I righted myself and staggered forward. I don’t know how long I fumbled through the snow, but suddenly ahead the mist darkened and then coalesced into a cliff face, the opening to a cave punctuated its face like some terrible maw. I tumbled through the entrance of the cave and the whistling and wailing of the terrible wind vanished. The cave receded back into the cliff face, disappearing into blackness. I lit a torch and the darkness pressed in, thick and syrupy, against the unwanted intrusion of the light. I proceeded inwards, the darkness oozing greasily around me, reluctantly relinquishing any ground to my torchlight. The tunnel opened into a large cavern, my torchlight failing to reach the far walls or ceiling. As I edged forward, a sickening unease grew in my stomach at each step, working it’s way up until it gripped my throat with fear. I turned, wanting to leave this accursed place, but I could no longer see the entrance to the tunnel, the blackness stretching endlessly around me. I wheeled about blindly in the darkness, thrusting forth my torch, straining for the tunnel when suddenly my light cast upon a figure. He must have been only 8 feet away but his form and figure were indistinct as though seen through a distant fog, confused and vague in shifting darkness. My light seemed to be unable to penetrate his form, sliding uselessly over him without touching. He spoke in a tongue I could not recognise, alien and harsh, rasping through my mind, tearing and scratching at my thoughts. My fear sublimated and I was overcome. *** They say that I appeared at the tavern speaking tongues, a high fever raging through my body. I lay in a bed writhing and thrashing for 9 days until the fever suddenly broke. I suffered no permanent ill effects, though I must confess I am more sensitive to the light than I ever was. My mind recoils thinking of that terrible place, but on a clear night like tonight I hear the mountain calling me, coaxing me to return.