On the rough stone wall were four distinct white scratch marks, looking as though they had been made by human fingernails. Below them, faint, illegible letters were carved into the rock, forming a message he couldn’t quite decipher.
As he reached out to touch the marks, a loud, metallic banging erupted from the tunnel behind them. It was followed by a sudden, powerful gust of wind that felt like a solid object hitting him, nearly knocking him off his feet.
The investigator signaled for an immediate retreat. As they scrambled back toward the entrance, Christopher looked back one last time. In the fading light of his torch, he saw a massive tidal wave of water rushing toward them from the depths.
They ran for their lives, bursting out into the sunlight just as the sounds of the mine faded into a deathly silence. But when Christopher looked at the entrance, the ground was dry. There was no water, only his own frantic footprints in the mud.
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