A Hole in the Wall

I was inspired to write this by a picture that I found online.  


    The smell of decay hung in the cold, stale air that laid under the city. The bodies of the dead slowly rotted away in the tombs where they had been placed. They were now locked up for all of eternity. Eventually, the names that marked where they laid would wear away and the dead would be forgotten one last time.
      The light of the torch that was being carried through the catacombs did little to extinguish the darkness and the feeling of dread that creeped in the darkness behind the person carrying the light. The dark figure continued on through the maze, ignoring the feeling that was present at the bottom of his gut. When he reached his destination the torch was set in a holder in the wall and other torches were illuminated.
     He could see faces in the darkness, some that he was familiar with and some that he had never met before in his life. After speedily inspecting the crowd, he walked over to the large hole in the wall that bore his name. It was not far from the ground, so he could easily climb in.
     The one regret that he had was that he did not say good bye. The hole was sealed quickly and he saw his last light.