Welcome back for the second part in the Ossuary Music Adventure!

If you missed last week, you can read it here or here’s a quick recap. You were promised money to buy shoes if you dared sneak into the ossuary and play your flute. This is dangerous both becasue there are guards and because there are monsters, the most notable being the wendigo. You’ve snuck in but have possibly heard a sound just before you started playing.

Readers overwhelmingly voted to play anyway and get out! I guess I need to make the choices more difficult next time =)

Let’s see how your music goes amidst the bones.

You run your shaking fingers over the cold metal of the flute while listening. Its frets are as familiar as the ratty clothes you wear, and the feel offers a small bit of comfort. Whether you move or not, the foreboding turning your stomach to acid probably won’t go away. When the ossuary remains quiet for several minutes, you finally raise the flute to your lips and blow a soft, mellow note into the silence. 

It carries through the dry bones like the brush of silk over skin. Goose bumps cover your arms and legs as you feel the world around you breathe. The shake in your hands is almost too much to keep going but you’ve started now, and you’ll never get the nerve up again, so you add a second note and then lean into the tune of your favorite song, a haunting melody you sometimes hear floating from the cathedral’s halls. You have no idea what the song is called. You learned it by ear, repeating what you heard carried on the wind. 

And like always, the music draws you in. The grinning skulls fade, the cold against your feet no longer matters, and the fear that clutched you moments before is replaced by a warmth that flows from within. You shut your eyes, letting the music carry your fingers. 

A spike of ice against your cheek halts your playing and your eyes snap open. Figures of opaque gray have joined you in the alcove. They remind you of clothes washed too many times. Thin, threadbare, and falling apart into whisps of gray mist. One in particular, a girl of maybe fifteen, has her hand still raised towards you. It was her icy touch against your skin. 

A sight beyond them—or rather through their transparent bodies—pushes a different cold, a terrified, heart clenching cold, into your chest. The long-limbed, salivating wendigo shuffles around the hall outside your alcove, its head swinging left and right like it’s scenting for prey. It growls in frustration, sending shivers down your spine.

The ghosts begin to fade back into the bones in the silence and as they disappear, the wendigo draws closer, its nostrils flaring with your scent. 

Did the ghosts keep you hidden? Was it your music that drew them out? It’s a guess, but you’re tempted to start playing again. Except…you touch your cheek where it feels brittle and ice crystals melt against your fingers. 

Apparently, their touch freezes your skin. You franticly search for another option. There’s a tiny gap between the top of the bones and the ceiling. You eye the space, wondering if you can crawl overtop. 

Do you…

Play again?

Or

Crawl Over the Bones?

Thanks for joining in this adventure! Leave you vote in the comments below and we’ll return next Thursday to see how the story continues

Blessings,

P.S. If you enjoy adventure stories, I have four full adventure books currently available on Amazon. Whether you’re looking for dragons, mystery, monsters, or myths, there are endings to find!

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