The Oubliette - A Michael Alexander Story

The well was dark, except for a small pool of light that seemed to filter down in streams from above, oozing through the myrk. Droplets of water, dripping into pools of water, echoed loudly in the circular chamber, the odd patterns maddening loud. There was a smell too, of rotten molds and shriveled fungus that had grown and died, itself starving in the hot, damp, putrescent environment. And