Taboo

I had a dream a month or so ago that inspired me to write a short story about it. I am going to modify it a bit though.

Perhaps it is human nature that we must test something despite all warnings.

While visiting with distant relatives at their rural home, I had taken to exploring each day into the woods and country side. One day I happened upon a strange stone structure hidden in the hillside by overgrowth. I was curious, but not enough to enter alone or without a flashlight.

The next day while in while in the small town about a mile from my relatives home I asked some of the locals if they knew anything about it. I was met mostly by folklore which ended with warning not to disturb unknown things. None of the information was exact enough to seem relevant to my discovery however.

I had given up and started back when I was approached by a trio of locals (two guys and a girl) about my age. It seems my curiosity was infections as they expressed an interest in adventuring into the structure with me on the following day.

Around noonish the next day we assembled outside of my relatives rural home and set out with tools in hand. We cleared away the over growth from cracked opening in the stone door and lowered ourselves in one at a time. Goosebumps spread over me as we venture into the dark tunnel bearing our flashlights. The tunnel went at a gentle decline and was easy to transverse and grew colder the further we went.

Eventually the tunnel opened up into room with many stone pillars. Upon inspection the only thing we discovered in the room was a worn life sized statue of stone female angel carved from some dark stone with some weather wear. It's visage capture in standing pose, arms down to it's side, palms facing forward, eyes opened with no pupils and head tilted slightly down.

There didn't seem to be any way to explain the purpose of the structure or the angel statue facing a back corner. The only information we had to go on was some text carved into one of the walls.

"Do not render life in the presence of the Black Angel"

We puzzled over the text till the only girl of the group said she wanted to try something. She scrambled through her pack and eventually pulled out a bit of paper and a nub of a pencil. Without explaining she took the pencil to the paper. It looked as if she were drawing a person (hard to tell exactly, I don't think she was an artist).

As she put the finishing touches to the picture, it looked as if the lead quickly spread out across the paper till it was completely black. We all jumped back as she screamed and dropped it. The sound of stone scraping against stone sounded in the corner. We turned, aiming our flashlights at the angel statue which had turn from the corner to face us.

Horrified we stood in shock as the statue glided in a blur across the ground stopping inches from our female companion. Tears ran down her face as she was floated up in mid air. Once her eyes met with the angel's her body contorted monstrously, joints and limbs curling in on each other till she was balled up, bloody and lifeless.

Her remains fell onto the ground with a sloppy wet plop, the sound breaking whatever trance held us as we all broke into a mad dash. I could hear behind us the sound of stone scraping stone and knew the angel wasn't done.

I did not look back as I rushed through the tunnel. The sounds of my two remaining companions who had been following me turned from labored breathing to death cries. As I caught a glimpse of the light filtering in from the spot where we had entered my last companions death cry was fading. The thought being next in line running through my mind as I scrambled like a wild animal through the opening tossing myself to the ground outside.

Winded and worn, I laid there catching my breath. The angel was much to large to make it through the opening, I prayed. There was no sound coming from the structure as I brought myself to my feet. I didn't dare look within, so I quietly began to move towards my relatives home. As I began walking I heard something from within the structure and eventually I recognized it. It was the sound of stone scraping...

I have never been back to my relatives place, nor have I gone over the details of those events till today. I can't shake the feeling that I am being watched and have sworn off drawing. Worst of all, I can't take the sound of stone scraping against stone.