Nocturina: Cavity

*Suggested by a challenge to write some dark bit using the word "Cavity", this is what I thunked up. Too long to be actually used in the challenge itself, still-- I writed it and can post it here. (Especially in the absence of any finished stories I have left here, mostly deliberately) Roughly 2180 wds, which could be longer if I opt to write more at some point and use this as a prelude. However, as the contemporary style and overly mechanical, trite plot set up tends to bore me-- this may be as good as it gets, unless I figure out a way to spice it up some.

I hemmed and hawed about including it into the Nocturina, opinions, criticisms very welcome

Okay, I'll hush.

smiles & waves
Po*


Cecelia Montaigne moved through the narrow recess of the ancient road, which seemed to burrow deeper into the bowel beneath the city. It was as if her heart had sunk, that the day after she had received the grant and had finally arrived in Napoli that Vesuvius would start acting up and the site closed down for nearly a week after the volcanic tremors had threatened to end her first field study even before it had started.

There had been a mud-slide in the early centuries of the common era. Not quite so devastating as its sister-city Pompei, in as far as human fatalities were considered, but still it had taken the entire city and submerged it in a thick and heavy coat... It would be a few years before anybody ventured to rebuild it. Eventually, the horrible episode would be virtually forgotten, until World War 2 had started and the blasts from airplane bombings had broken through the hardened volcanic stone unto a subterranean layer.

Her first assignment was hardly so exciting as a new discovery or a fresh excavation, but there were still literally miles of old Napoli that had yet to be uncovered. Just to be here was exciting enough, but then she had landed and had only been here a few hours when the first tremor hit.

The engineers had, finally, declared the area safe and Cecelia was the first to go down and enter the site. She was awe-struck at how this old, once, Roman city had been so well preserved by the century old mud-slide. She had not gone but a few feet when her heart sunk a little, as the volcanic tremors had obviously had some ill effect and the wall of an old apothecary shop had caved in. But that disappointment was brief, in as her eye adjusted to the room and the sparse light from the lamp on her helmet when she noticed a small dark cavity, little more than a crevice that had seemingly been gradually eroded away. Brown icor, like mold or rust had infected these walls and had gradually worn through some unforeseeable weak point in the small cramped structure. Cecelia's heart leapt as she realized that there was more than meets the eye-- much more-- as she shone her light through into a much wider and vaster chamber that the volcano had uncovered for her.

The mortar literally crumbled away as she managed to move the first stone, with some effort. There was something alike adrenalin pouring through her veins, and a dogged determination to pass through into this place that she was certain had not been seen by human eyes for centuries. She had nearly accomplished the first removal, which may have likely been just wide enough for her to be able to squeeze through and see inside; when she began to hear what she was sure were voices.

"Hello?" she called out, and heard some quick and indiscernible whispering before everything fell silent again. "Bonjourno!" She spoke a little louder, regretting her own ignorance of the native language. Arabic, some Latin, and some Greek she could speak more fluently, but any of the more modern languages were lost on her. She had brought a pocket translator, but in her haste to get the site, had not bothered to bring it along. "Are you alright?" She gave up trying to remember any of the few Italian phrases she knew that might apply to this situation. Strangely, she doubted her ability to order a decent meal and the common decencies were likely to get her by.

There was a quiet giggling and a muted cackle sound in response to her call.

The irritation was enough to get her back to work on the stone. If they were well enough to giggle, there must obviously be some other access to this strange dark cavity that she could not see much more than a well preserved Roman floor and perhaps the outer edge of a mosaic that had been inset in the center of this chamber. Her hopes of a new discovery seemed pointless now, though she still wanted to see what it was that Vesuvius had uncovered. The stone fell with a hollow sort of echoing, something that struck her with the fresh fascination that this room or chamber must be immense.

There was now enough room for her to pass, though not comfortably. She had considered trying to dislodge another stone, but her anticipation of what laid beyond the old wall kept little patience. Jumping up slightly and using her hands to guide her into and through the small cavity-- her eyes blinking as she shone the light about as far as it would pass into the blackness of the room.

... "The absorption in flesh
is gradual reduction of the senses,
a calm mask, for the heart is a maniac"

and only these dreams can keep them apart."..

Cecelia nearly dropped her flashlight as what had started as a loud buzzing and ringing in her ears had become strangely discernible into words-- Latin to be precise. The translation came a little too easily into her head, irregardless to what kind of voice(?) may have produced it. The words were something like the sound an old juice-harp might produce, or the sounds of the instrument the Austrailian bushmen would play... a little like Peter Frampton's buzz box on his guitar too. It was s short step from her being able to understand it, to a subtle mounting panic-- perhaps a bit too quickly overcome by her curiosity.

"You are not allowed to be down here!" she shouted as she finally passed through into the room, convinced that some of the locals were probably playing a trick on her. But there was no response this time, as Cecelia began to shine the flash-light around and seen more than she might have ever hoped to expect.

Elaborate murals adorned the walls, though they reminded her more of something ancient Aegean than of Roman design. She had seen something of similar effect in pictures, pictures that were taken of a civilization that had been virtually wiped off the face of the earth... yet again, a volcano was the suspected culprit. The people of the isle of Santorini had left behind similar designs, some of which modern scholars suspected might have been the inspiration for Plato's Atlantis.

Archeological evidence seems to indicate that the people that lived there had managed to escape, due primarily to the absence of human remains and various weaponry that must have been taken with them. But the murals remained intact as they were here, and this was something of an import that could only be speculate upon without further study.

Still, this seemed to tantalize Cecelia's imagination. Even that there were only those vague visible tracings and clearer areas that she could see without removing the layers of ancient mud-- she was certain that this place had not been discovered by any of the modern academia.

She stopped as she neared the northern most edge of a the eastern wall, and the next wall brought a deeper mystery as her brow furrowed. Unalike the other walls, this north wall was as if it had already been cleared and the mud cleaned away. Moving along, her flashlight uncovering the monolithic proportions of human-ilk representations. Giants that were well over fifteen feet in height, their flesh tones dark and definitely humanesque while the heads more reticent of Egyptian cosmogonies.

She stopped at the center of the wall as there was depicted a nude woman far larger than the rest. In her hands, cradled near her womb and over her sex was a terrific ball of light.

"Astarte," the name trickled from her lips as she stared in awe at the immense mosaic inset within the wall.

"Lo, beware the Queen of Heaven"...

It was strange that the clip of verse from the Biblical book of Isaiah would come to mind, in as Cecelia had long ago abandoned her mother's religion; from an agnostic to an atheist within a matter of a few short years at college. Cecelia had never been a very good Catholic, and the Biblical view towards women always a bit of a rub to her even when she was a child. Yet, as soon as she had seen the depiction of her there, that verse sprung out from the fog of her memories as it had always left her curious as to who he was talking about. It was only as she was older that she discovered the gods and goddesses of ancient Babylon.

Why were they here? The explanation seemed simple enough, in that the Romans were hardly beyond adopting foreign god and in the latter years, there were literally dozens of small mystery cults to Dionysus, Demeter, Mithras-- among others. Astarte would have been especially appealing to them, Cecelia figured. She turned back into the room, her imagination now fresh with some small bit of gleamed knowledge. Of course, she would have hardly have put anything forth more than the find revealed itself in her field notes. She was still a few years away from her doctorate, and such speculations often were met with ridicule-- in the absence of evidence and sound data. Still, there was a small smirk as she considered that this was likely once a secret temple. It staggered the mind to consider what may have went on here, though hardly accepting anything more supernatural than what rites and rituals may have been performed here. There would have likely been priests and priestesses, temple prostitutes; orgies were hardly out the question... there may have likely been sacrifices, though not human sacrifices. The absence of an altar was somewhat discouraging, but there was also more to be seen. Not just along the walls, but there was a slender hall that led out towards the sea.

Cecelia gave herself time to breathe, as her light played against the anterior walls of this chamber, where only vague outlines and some few small parts of the design beneath had bled through. She knew that the small corridor likely led toward some inner chamber or sacred sanctum, for which only a blessed few could pass beyond a curtained veil. It was not without some reluctance that she ventured nearer towards it. She may have been somewhat overwhelmed by all of this, but she had not forgotten about the curious laughter and the terrifying voice that had spoke to her. She accused herself of being overly imaginative, that she such uneasiness was silly. At worst, some of the modern inhabitants of the city had found their way down here and had heard her coming, thinking to play a bit of their own bit of deviltry upon her.

Cecelia had made only a few steps closer before she was stopped, stock-still and seemingly temporarily paralyzed by the pale and near spectral face of a woman with long dark hair that fell over her shoulders and to her side. She was wearing a strange costume, a diadem nestled in her hair and veils attached to the main fixture of what had to be a costume. A dual fold scarlet brassier was draped loosely and low over her shoulders, which spilled down between her breasts and formed a short dress like wrap over her hips. The woman wore few adornements, save the silver chain that was bound around her hips and waist. On her legs, a wrapped coil of leather twine and short suede like boots upon her feet. On each finger was a silver and inornate ring of simple wrap design, each holding a different sort of stone.

"Hello," Cecelia finally gathered her wits, and stood with some more firm resolve as the woman neither moved nor spoke. "You are not supposed to be down here you know."

The woman's lips curled upward slightly at that as her head lowered, but her eyes remained locked upon Cecelia's.

"You could get in trouble with the local authorities for"... Cecelia's voice cut off close as the woman began to move in slow methodic sort of steps towards her. It was near as she suspected she might seducing Cecelia, or trying to get her to back away. Cecelia stood her ground, a brief flash of irritation as the woman now stood uncomfortably close.

'In some cultures, it is an insult to stand so far away when conversing,' she reminded herself as the woman's head cocked slightly, impossibly deep and dark eyes staring down upon her like still blue pools that had suddenly begun to ripple in the reflection of Cecelia's light... that fell away from her hand and down, lost upon the subterranean floor as Cecelia's screams were absorbed with the dark and hollow space, cessating to a dim whisper before trailing off altogether.

It was a few hours before the batteries of her flashlight finally dulled and then failed, as a small red pool began to ebb into the dimming peripheries of it's fading light before it went out.