A Stone Cube
I found this piece of writing in a hollow stone room that was uncovered in my backyard. I had no idea such a room existed before I decided to obtain a pool. When the workers wanted to excavate the ground, they found this cube, apparently made of solid stones. When they investigated a little bit further, they found out it was hollow. We decided to break the stone to make it easily transportable and when we did, this room appeared. Nothing was in it except for a letter in the middle of the room. The walls appeared to be completely smooth and without any holes or entrances. I own this house for decades and I cannot for the life of me tell you, how or when the stone appeared in the ground. Just to be sure, I contacted the police, but they came up with nothing and returned me the letter that was present in the cell. The letter intrigued me, and I wanted to find out what was the story behind it, but the corner of the page, where presumably the address mentioned in the letter was, was missing. My only hopes are to share it with the world and maybe, just maybe, the person to whom it was addressed gets it. Handwriting is shaky and sometimes barely intelligible, so I took the liberty and rewrote it myself. If you believe you are the person to whom the letter was meant, contact me and I will show you the original.
I write this account to maintain my sanity. When I appeared here, I found several papers next to me and a small pencil. I must keep this concise, so my paper won’t run out sooner than I want. If you find this somehow, please, give it to my mom. Her information is in the corner of the page.
My name is Mary, I am nineteen, student, working on my English degree. I know this will be hard to believe, but today I suddenly appeared in darkness, in unknown place. One small ray of light reaches the floor from some tiny hole in the ceiling. It gives me just enough light to see what I am writing on one line. It doesn’t illuminate anything substantial. I tried to investigate where it is coming from, but no luck so far. Other than that, I am in complete darkness. I can’t see anything, hear anything. I smell hay. The floor is a cold stone as far as I can feel. I crawled through the space I have. I tried to lay down and I can’t reach from wall to wall. If I should guess, based on my height, the room is a square, with a base of three meters. Or something around that. I have no recollection of how I got here. Last thing I remember is me preparing for a night out in my apartment. Next thing I remember is this dark room. My head hurt when I woke up. My only reasonable assumption is that I was attacked and kidnapped by someone in my own home. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Or maybe I did go out, was assaulted outside and whatever they did to me caused some sort of memory loss. I can’t think straight. I am terrified beyond all words. I am grateful for this paper and pencil to keep my head under control. It can’t be an accident they are here. Someone must have put them here with me. I have no idea why. Why would someone do this? Why was I taken? I am nothing. I am not pretty. I am not rich. There is nothing to be gained from my taking. Nothing whatsoever. I’m a nobody. I can feel my sanity slipping again. I am desperate for something to happen. I can already feel my oxygen supplies diminishing. That’s a terrifying thought. Suffocating to death. It’s a terrible way to go. I’m too young for this. My mother will be terrified. I must be strong for her. Try to survive. To find an out. But what can I do? I must try something. I will stop writing now, find out more about the room, feel the walls or something.
The walls are definitely stone. I went around the whole room. I tried to find some doors. There must be doors! How would I get in here otherwise? I didn’t find anything. No other material. Just stone. Maybe they are just hidden. Secret doors. Openable only from the outside. It sounds paranoid, stupid even, but I have no other explanation. I sound crazy. The walls are completely smooth. Maybe I got here through the ceiling. I can’t reach that high. Perhaps I am…
I stopped writing because I heard something. I heard a squeak. Some noise. I had to investigate. When I moved, I heard it again, but couldn’t find anything. Maybe it was some animal. Maybe a rat. I’ve never seen one before. Never heard one. I can only guess. But I would imagine it sounds something like this. It’s not here anymore. But if it got in, there must be a hole somewhere. Maybe I can do something with it. I have no idea what. My head hurts. I am tired. I don’t want to, but I must take a nap. I want to stay desperately awake, but I can’t hold it anymore. I will look for the hole now, nap later. I can’t waste the little time I have now with writing.
I woke up. My head hurts. Breathing is hard. I can’t think. I found no hole. My legs hurt. I crawled and hurt my knees. I am in desperate need of air. I try to stay next to the beam of light. If there’s a hole, there’s some air coming through. Probably not enough. The hole is little. God my head hurts. I don’t know if I should keep writing. On one hand, it keeps me awake. Keeps me sane. On the other, it dries out the little energy I have left. I still hope someone comes. That someone opens. Let’s me breath. This put my life in perspective. I used to complain about everything. Thought my grades were the end of the world. They were pointless. If I get out of here, I will change my life.
Every word pains me. Can’t move my hands well. Too exhausted. I hear the mouse again. It brushed my legs. It’s on me. Can’t fight it off. I fear dying. I… die… He… why… see color… mom…
The rest of the letter is unintelligible. I can make out a few words at the end of the letter, but most are just lines. It is a miracle most of it is readable at all. The paper is damaged, yellow, but readable. There was no body, no remains present in the cube. From the letter and the spelling, I assume the unfortunate girl, if she really existed and were locked in there, was American, which makes my investigation even more difficult. I live in England and that is where the stone was found. I hope the internet will help me to solve this case. It is very possible it is just some elaborate prank, but I doubt it. I just feel it in my guts the letter is authentic. It feels so real. There are million questions I have. It keeps me up at night. The stone calls me. Appears in my thoughts. Keeps me wondering. I wanted to destroy it, but I decided to keep it in the garden. Something told me I will need it. Sometimes, I go there and try to confirm what the letter said. Try to find some clues. Some explanation, but so far, nothing. Again, if you believe you have any information, please, let me know.