The Gauthier Farmhouse, on the Outskirts of a Small French Town Northwest of Paris, 1918:
The root cellar was dark and cramped. It was little more than a glorified hole in the ground, with earthen walls supported by a wooden lattice and a heavy wood trap door atop. Slivers of light flowed through cracks in the warped wood, like starlight coruscating through a blackened sky. The same cracks allowed air to circulate within the oubliette, but it was tainted by the stench of rotting vegetables left behind in the cellar. Insects burrowed through the dirt, obscured by the darkness, but present nonetheless. Not being able to see them but knowing they were there made them even more frightening. Claude wondered what else might be lurking in the ebon recesses. The eight-year-old shivered, partially from the cold but mostly out of fear.
“Please, let me out.” His plaintive cry went unheeded, as had his previous entreaties. He wiped the tears from his eyes. Claude felt something crawl up his leg. He brushed it off and screamed again. His heart raced, as his face contorted in a paroxysm of terror. He was desperate to escape the confined prison but the trap door was far too heavy for him to push open. He felt the darkness become tangible, closing in on him… suffocating him. Claude screamed.
The Vampires & Werewolves You Only Think You Know!
Fangs & Fur, Book One: Flashbacks