This was the strangest assignment ever. I had to plunge into the pothole, roped to an external belay, and abseil to the bottom. The DCI nominated me knowing that spelunking was one of my interests.

It was dark at the bottom of the chimney. Some shifting light filtered down from the aperture above.

It was the smell which hit me first. Death, decay, degradation. Fungus, mould, humus. Choking.

The temperature was glacial. My fingers froze on the flashlight. My breath an expressionist painting.

The droplets of water separating from the stalactites, plopping into puddles below, were symphonic.

A requiem for the murdered. Every one of my clumsy movements reverberated through the chamber.

Exaggerated. Resonant. Echoing my ineptitude. Mocking. Daring me to impact this desolate scene.

Then I saw them.

Fractal flashes of jagged light reflecting off bleached bones. Stacks. Piles. Heaps. Mounds.

Christ! Were they human or animal? I picked up a femur. No need to measure. Unmistakably human.

How many bodies in this subterranean mausoleum? Nausea overcame me. I vomited and passed out.