How Deep Is the Well?

A voice swells from the deep faint as a whisper and stranger to so much so it could have very well been ignored or imagined. Daring to lean a little farther into the gaping hole narrowing your gaze straining to sea you see a pair of eyes shining against the dark staring back at you. You run down the path under the well fades into the distance, running until standing before you are the old wooden bones of a chapel lonely and like the trees casting no shadow. At the back of the room you find a staircase and at the bottom of these rickety wooden stairs you find a door locked with large metal locks and chains behind it a voice not like the one you may have heard

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