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Chapter Text

January 27

Hello, it is Cricket. Today I do not move from my spot. I pick up small stones and ice and I throw them at the Ice Walk Man. I watch him try to attack them, and then he becomes bored.
I do not want to hurt him now. I cannot help him out or he will hurt me. I cannot leave him or I will feel it forever. I am not able to move.
I know what I must do but it hurts me. I do not want to hurt the Ice Walk Man the same as this. I want to meet him in the dark and to have it be fair. Him in the dark with no knife but with much more height, and me in the dark with a knife.
I will wait. Tomorrow I will do it.
To all who are watching, fare well.

January 28

I leave the Ice Walk Man behind.
For twenty-eight days I walk with my hand on the wall. I do not take it off the wall, not even the first time I meet the Ice Walk Man. When I rest, my back is on the wall. Today is the first day I take my hand off the wall.
I take my hand off the wall and I crawl on the floor. I do not trust walking without my light. I cannot walk without the wall. I crawl on the floor and feel with one hand the edge of the crack. The Ice Walk Man hears my bell, and he follows. My hand touches his hand as I try to follow the crack. Once, twice, many times. I touch his hand and I feel the blood that I caused. His hand is cold as same the stones.
I feel the crack and then I do not. The ground is smooth again. I feel in the dark and I do not feel more cracks to fall into. I crawl forward into the darkness. I feel the stones slowly so I do not make a mistake. I do not want to fall.
I follow the crack again. Now I am on side opposite. I feel the Ice Walk Man try to grab my hand, but he cannot grab it. He is too cold. His fingers do not move now. They are stiff and try to scratch me but they cannot.
The wall is there. I crawl and I hit the wall with my head. I touch the wall, then I stand and I walk away from the Ice Walk Man. I hear him move and the sound of water is in the halls, but he cannot follow me.
I do not feel brave. I feel sad.
The stones become more warm now. There is more water. It runs down the walls and on my hands. My sleeves are wet. I try to ask the stones why they are warming, but they do not know. It is natural and they do not ask questions. I ask questions and the stones do not have answers.
I have many questions. I want to know who the Ice Walk Man is. I want to know where I am. I want to know where I am walking. I feel a pull in my hand when I walk and my hand touch the wall. The pull guides me the same as a light in the darkness. But I do not know where it pulls me.
The pull becomes stronger. When I start walking on my first day, I feel nothing. The stones have no feelings, and they know about old Heroes and dogs, but not where to go. Now the stones feel the pull but no different feelings.
I do not hear the Ice Walk Man now. All I hear is drip-drip-drip and I listen to water running down walls. I do not know what is next.
To all who are watching, fare well.

January 29

Today I find what is different. I find what the stones want. I find a door in the wall.
It is locked.
I think I find the end.

January 30

Yesterday I rest. I have my head on the door and I hear the tick-tick-tick. The same as a heart.
The door is dark blue. I see it in my light. It is smooth metal and it has spots of parts brown where the paint is lift up. It is the same as my cheer bell. I run my hands over the spots and they hurt.
I try to walk back down the halls. I walk and I hear the Ice Walk Man. He is more calm. He moves a little and there are little sounds of water moving. There is the sound of hands on the stone walls and he tries to hit them.
I sit at the edge and I wait. I turn on my lantern. I see him. I see the Ice Walk Man and he is smaller. He has ice on his face and on his clothing. It is like long ice hanging He has icicles on his skin and they fall when he moves. His skin is blue and his eyes are gray. He looks at me as he hits the walls. His teeth are black. His tongue is black. I look down his open mouth and it is all black like a hole.
I reach for the Ice Walk Man. He hits my hand. His hand is a ball. His fingers curl in and they do not reach out for me. I grab his hand and I try to pull.
The Ice Walk Man is heavy. He falls. He falls into the water and the halls sound loud with water.
I try again. He falls.
I try to grab his clothing, but it is too close to his mouth and he tries to put his teeth on me.
I sit and I look at the Ice Walk Man. I do not know what to do. Yesterday I am all made of sadness when I think of the Ice Walk Man. I cannot leave him behind.
I say this three times, but I am truthful now. Tomorrow I will decide.
To all who are watching, fare well.

January 31

I have a story, but I do not know where to start.
Today I start when I hear the Ice Walk Man yelling. It is not words but it is near close. I use my lantern and see him in the water and he reaches for me. His hands have water run down them.
I do not try to take his hand. I know I cannot pull him out.
The knife is useful now. I cut the rope on my cheer bell and I create a snare. It is the same as a snare I use to catch rabbits. I watch the Ice Walk Man and I wait for him to get near me. I wait and I drop the noose on his head. He does not try to touch it. He only uses his hands to reach at me.
I move away from the crack and the rope is tight. I hear the waves and the sound of bones snap when I pull. I do not stop. I wrap my hands in the rope and I pull and walk from the crack.
My lantern is on. I see the crack edge and the rope into the darkness. I walk and pull, and I see the Ice Walk Man come out of the crack. I do not stop. I do not stop walking once I see the Ice Walk Man. I stop when I see his feet and I hear him drag on the floor.
I stop. I unwrap my rope on my hands. I go to my lantern and I go to the Ice Walk Man and look at his face. His eyes are open, and they look at me. His mouth is open, and blood is on my rope now. His hands move and his fingers curl but he does not move. Only his eyes move when I walk by him.
I do not take my rope. It is not my rope. It is for the Ice Walk Man. I carry my cheer bell in my hands now and I shake it loudly. I want to only hear my bell.
Maybe one day I will find the Ice Walk Man again in the darkness. I do not want to find him now. He is in the darkness with my rope, and he is out of the crack. Maybe he will fall into a new crack. Maybe he will drag into the darkness.
I do not know. It is not for me.
I am at the door now. One hand is on it. I hear the tick-tick-tick, but it is slow. There is the sound of something. I think it will open soon. I will see.
To all who are watching, fare well.

February 01

The door opens, and I see light. My eyes hurt, and I put my blanket above my eyes for safety. I do not cry. I cannot cry. But my eyes sting and try to close. I walk into the light with my hands out the same if it is dark and I feel nothing.
I feel out into the light that is the same as darkness because I cannot see and I touch a leaf. I grab it and I pull. It is with a stem. I feel the stem and I have pain. I pull my hand away and put my hand into my mouth and taste blood.
I try again. I reach out with the same hand and I feel for the stem, and now I know the pain and I feel thorns. Leaves and thorns. I reach around me and I feel more. I try to find the wall and there are flowers. Only flowers.
It is darker now and I use my lantern to write. I look up and see nothing. It is only darkness. Around me the walls are stones but the stones are underneath the flowers. The flowers are thick and i cannot put my hands on the wall. The stems are too close, and the stems have thorns which hurt me.
The air smells the same as a garden. It is pleasant. It is not cold but it is not warm. The cold is behind me and away behind the dark blue door. I leave the door open.
I wonder if the Ice Walk Man will find me. Maybe. I do not want him in the darkness forever.
I do not have other things to say. I am afraid of this new catacomb. In the cold and darkness, I keep my hand on the stones to know where to go. Here, I cannot touch the walls. I walk fully blind. I am under my blanket and I only look down to see my shoes on stones so I do not fall against the wall of thorns.
This is worse.
To all who are watching, fare well.

February 02

This is not the same as the first catacombs. Here there is light and dark the same as a real day. I look up when the light is gray and I see there is only smoke above me. It swirls in patterns of gray and white until it is too bright and I hide under my blanket again.
I do not know where I am walking. Maybe I need try to make a map of these halls. I have found too many dead ends now and I am afraid. There is a bad feeling when I see a dead end. It feels the same as a bad omen bad luck.
The flowers are not open. They are small buds and do not move when I touch them. The stems have too many thorns and I cannot pull the buds off the stems. The flowers are white and my blood makes them blue when I touch the petals.
I move slowly. Not because I am cold or because it is dangerous, but because I do not want to travel.
But maybe this is not bad. I enjoy the flowers. They smell nice, and when it is not too bright, I look at them and I can remember nature outside the catacombs. I can think of the trees and the nature, and I think about what is at the end of the catacombs. I will live. I will walk each day, even if I do not know where I walk. I will find the end.
To all who are watching, fare well.

January: Month Review

A/N:
click here for a summary of Cricket's journey.