Where the wind blows.

The wind blew on Jackson’s face like a sickly breath; breathing in and out of the cold, dark cave. His cheek bright red, he blew hot air into his shivering hands. He wasn’t sure whether he was looking up or down, anymore.

“Can anyone hear me!” he yelled, his voice bouncing off the rocky walls, echoing deeper before faded.

Stepping forward he winced, his right leg had been killing him with each awkward step, he tried his best to ignore it, but the pain selfishly demanded his attention. Feeling down on his leg, his fingers found the swollen protrusion on his ankle. 

“Damn it,” he muttered, his back against the cave’s unforgiving rocky wall. 

They told me not to go, not alone at least. Caves are dangerous. People find themselves lost and never found. God I really wished I packed an extra flashlight. 

He felt it again, the wind, cold, and welcoming. I’m not going to die here. “Not today.”

Limping forward, one hand trailed along the cave's rough wall, the other swaying side to side in the blackness. The wind had diminished to a faint draft now; he stopped and listened intently. With one sense lost, the others heightened

Jackson’s ear opened to the darkness, and all he heard back was silence. The wind picked up, roaring against his skin and ruffling his hair. A splash of frigid water hits his face. “I’m not going to die,” he muttered, through tired lungs. “I’m not going to die.” He repeats it like a mantra, as he continues lurching forward through the dark. 

Just keep going, one excruciating step after another. Don’t stop. Don’t think. Just keep moving forward. This is just an inconvenience. Yeah. A life or death inconvenience but an inconvenience all the same. Grit your teeth and power through you bastard.

Jackson then froze, glancing around worriedly, squinting his eyes if it would unlock some kind of nocturnal vision. The wind’s eerie howl fell abruptly into silence, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm. “Hello! Please, if anyone is out there, help me! I’m lost.” His voice fell into a whimper on the final word. Silence answered his pleas, until a sinner sound rattled from the darkness. It sounded far away and yet he felt like it wasn’t it. The wind moaned, grabbing his attention. “What the hell is going on!” 

He continued his agonizing march deeper into the cave maw, each jolting step sending shockwaves of pain up his injured leg. With his screaming ankle calling to him, he took a short needed break. His chest heaved in and out, slow with long breaks in the middle. Beads of sweat ran down his streaked brow, and with a trembling hand, he wiped. His entire body burned, as if he was kindling inside a fire pit, and yet he felt cold. 

You’re not going to die. You’re not going to die! 

He covered his mouth with a clenched fist. “You’re not going to die!” he whispered, willing the words to carry more conviction. “You’re a survivor.”

A swoosh of wind brushes against his ear and he turns,craning his neck, met only by perpetual darkness. 

Water dripped onto his head, staring upwards he opened his mouth, and drank the saltywater. Smacking his parched lips he gags at the binary taste but continues to drink all the same.

His palm gilded roughly against the craggy cave wall, still following the draft. Suddenly his hand slipped and he fell, landing hard on the uneven ground. His screaming ankle shrieked in pain. Gingerly feeling along his outstretched palm, his fingers dance until finding a jaggy gash of oozing blood. 

“Damn it!” his voice echoed through the cave as he tore a strip of fabric off his shirt to bandage his bleeding hand. 

Using the wall for support, he pushes himself up on his good leg, winching when he leaned his back against the prinkle edges of the coarse rock face. He decided to put as little weight as possible on his throbbing ankle, but

immediately regretted the decision. A surge of unwelcoming agony shot up his leg, whiting out his vision for a moment before he crumpled back to the ground, helplessly.

Cold and wet, he adjusted himself upright in a seated position, wiping mucus from his nose as he shivers, head buried deep in his knees. 

I’m not going to die. I’m not going to die. You’re going to get out of here. He wiped tears from his grimy face, the internal mantra holding little weight now. You’re going to get out. You’re going to get yourself a big meal. You’re going to tell this story to your family, friends and everyone back at the lodge. A chuckle escaped his raspy breath. When you get out, and tell everyone what happened—they’ll laugh of course, who wouldn’t. Off in the distance, the rattling noise can faintly be heard. They might even write a movie about you.

The harsh blow of the wind snapped him out of his thoughts. Taking a deep breath, the wind caressed his face. Suddenly he’d imagined a sunny day by the beach, hearing the waves crashing against the sand, as he drank a cold beer, and unbended on a chair as the sun pelted at his skin.

Sucking in his remaining tears, Jackson wipes his eyes before putting on a brave face. Wincing with pain, he hobbles to his feet and follows the wind. 

Where the wind blows freedom is near. 

The rattling noise continued making itself known, Jackson hears it behind him, never to close where he may actually feel something, but far enough away to tremble his sense of safety. Suppose that’s even worse. Knowing that something is behind, lurking, waiting. Waiting for what. That made Jackson more afraid. 

He was still guiding his hand, until his palm suddenly met empty space where solid rock should have been. Jackson flinched, regaining his balance, his outstretched arms waving around in the darkness. He reluctantly gravitated towards the ground, and assumed a crawling position. He wasn’t fond of the idea of falling again. 

Fingers splayed, he inched forward in a shimmying crawl across the rocky, uneven surface. His hands collided with something unmistakable - long, cylindrical, and coated in a viscous slime that made his skin crawl. He recoiled instinctively, flinging the revolting object to the side with a strangled cry. It landed with a sickening thud and series of ominous rattles that seemed to echo endlessly in the suffocating darkness.

The wind felt more powerful here, like he was outside, but he wasn’t. Everything around him was still dark. His heart sank when the thought of blindness came to mind, but he knew that wasn’t it. The howling gusts swirled and batters his body from all sides like a hurricane. More of the unseen objects clattered against his splayed hands, scattering in all directions as his fingers recoiled from their disturbing, indiscernible texture. 

He continued to crawl onward, his hands pushing him forwards as his legs trailed behind him. He froze suddenly, hearing something slither around him, something huge. He felt something cold touch his palm. The wind picked up, howling throughout the cave like a monster. The thing he touched, he wrapped his hand around it. It was small, rectangular. Feeling it out in his hand, he knew what it was. Flipping the case open and spinning the wheel with his thumb, a tiny spark fluttered out, providing enough flickering light for him to see his trembling hands. 

After a few more frantic spins of the wheel, a glow encased him, keeping the smothering darkness at bay. Trembling hands cupped around the lighter, as the wind snipped at him. He was still unable to see much, but his hearing had bettered 

Something sloshed around in the darkness, slithering roughly against the ground, its movement punctuated by a sinister rattling that echoed all around Jackson. Water droplets pelted his head, peering up at the source, his heart sunk. A worm-like tentacle, descended from the inky darkness above, the lighter illuminating enough it's gaping maw, a spiral of hundreds of razor-sharp teeth forwarding into a black nothingness. 

Fear coiled Jackson’s body, forcing him to stare at the disgusting maw. The rattling was all around now, something sloshed behind him, and before he could turn something bit down on his leg and dragged him. He Squirmed, and kicked the worm creature with his free leg, grabbing hold of embedded rock, his fingers wrestled for stability, before viciously being jerked away and pulled towards the sky.  

Two enormous eyes, each the size of a minivan, peeled open, freezing him in sheer terror. In that moment, the icy grip of death seemed to loosen its hold. The lighter slipped from his trembling hands in slow motion, seconds stretching into an eternity before the faint clink of it hitting the ground reached his ears. 

A sickly breath brushed against his tired body, the colossal eyes then closed, and once again he found himself in the dark, as the wind drew nearer.