Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Drip… 

     It was a dark place. A dark, damp place. 

     Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop… 

     As the sound of falling raindrops continued to reverberate throughout the chamber, Emma stared off into the blackness for an undiscerning amount of time, her vision focused on nothing, and yet, everything seemed to be overwhelming to her senses. Perhaps it was minutes. Perhaps it was hours. Some time later, a sliver of pale moonlight creeped into the room, providing just enough light for her to see that the water had collected into puddles scattered throughout the sanctuary.

     Drip. Drop. Drip…

     The reach of the moon’s light pulled away from the room, and the sound of the rain’s gentle drip morphed into a continuous, rolling drumming, beating against whatever remained of the roof relentlessly. Water streamed down through shattered shingles and tattered sheathing overhead.

     From her elevated post behind a long vacant, decrepit pulpit, she watched on as an observer, herself spared from the downpour by some small patch of sturdy roofing high above her. She watched as the water fell in long, unending strands. 

     Strands becoming puddles, puddles becoming pools, pools becoming flood, until the body of water swallowed the surface of the church’s nave. 

     With no light remaining, the surface of the water reflected pitch void; that abyssal gulf completely covering the path by which she had arrived.

     Perhaps it didn’t matter. 

     Turning herself to the rest of the chancel behind her, she was greeted by two rows of dusty, disheveled choir chairs in various states of disrepair, all surrounding a singular, beautiful, white-framed and green-cushioned pew, which was evenly centered on the stage. 

     From overhead and behind, the heavy sound of the rain pattered on, providing a consistent, dulling melody. The darkness of the room too weighed upon her, and she felt the call of exhaustion pulling at her focus. 

     Emma allowed herself to sit down on the pew. The pillows eased the pain in her back as she sat, and she let herself sink into the cushions. Staring in the direction of the pulpit which she knew was in front of her, the dark obfuscated her vision to the point where she could barely see her own hands. She felt that there was no point in trying to leave now. 

     Not when she would have to wade through the water to get out. Not when the dark was this all-consuming.

     She allowed herself to curl up on to the pew and drifted off into sleep.