Whitney Writes…

It was a long way down to the bottom of the cavern. The torch light barely even lit the gloom of below. It was as though they were in a cocoon of darkness as the rope suspended them down and down and down. Skittering could be hear along the walls. She didn’t want to think about what was causing that. Water dripped. The hole above with the sunlight pouring through was getting smaller and smaller and smaller. And the sunlight was getting dimmer and dimmer and dimmer.

And still, she was lowered lower and lower and lower.

She looked down. Her feet were barely visible below her. The stretch of blackness just kept reaching onwards. There had to be a bottom, surely. There was no way she had willingly had herself lowered into a bottomless pit. She supposed if that were the case, they would eventually run out of rope up above…

Suddenly, with a jerk, she came to a stop. She heard the faint din of voices far above. They had run out of rope, is what she assumed was the message. She held her torch out, glanced back up – wondering if it would be worth the ride back up in the dark if this didn’t go right – then she dropped her torch.

It fell for five seconds before making a hollow thunk as it landed on the stone floor just below her. She gave three sharp tugs on the rope to signal she was getting out of the harness. After a short drop, she was on the stone floor. She picked up her torch and took a few steps before she heard the sound of her boots on metal. Taking a few more steps, the metallic crunching continued. She knelt down, and her torch illuminated against gold. Slowly, the floor began to illuminate as her torch light was reflected off the fortune of gold coins at her feet. It spread for as far as the gloom allowed her to see.

Inktober 2023, Prompt #10: FORTUNE