Amnesia: The Dark Descent [Part One]

Last drink

Daniel awoke to two things, a painful throbbing in his head and darkness. The first he soon remembered was because of the barrel which had fallen on him. 

"Ugh, barrels." He muttered bitterly, cursing them in his head as he stood up. Then he realised why it was so dark, and started to panic. 

"Where's my lantern? Oh no, no no no..." His hands swept the ground as he searched for his precious possession, relief filling his body as his fingers connected with a familiar cold metal handle. He pulled it to his chest and hugged it, before realising how stupid he must look and quickly dropping it too his side. Then he remembered, no one else was there with him. Still, it was a little strange to be hugging a lantern, even if you were alone. 

He lit the lantern and lifted it up to see the room. It was a mess, rubble and even small rocks were strewn across the floor. The shelves had fallen onto the ground, and as Daniel searched for the shelf he'd tried to grab onto he found a startling scene, the only thing that had stopped it from falling on his head was the barrel which had done just that, it was wedged under the shelves. Daniel shook his head in disbelief as he tentatively stepped around the wreckage and headed for the door. Only then did he see  it was blocked by a mountain of rocks which had been dislodged from god-knows-where by the earthquake. 

"Come to think of it, why are there so many earthquakes?" He thought aloud. How many other times had the ground rumbled? Mind you, they were no where near as violent as the last one. Maybe they were pre-earth quakes and that final one was the big thing. He shrugged, pushing it to the back of his mind. He had to find the chemicals and leave the wine cellar. 

He put his lantern down carefully and looked over the rubble. He saw a plank of splintered wood jutting out and decided that was a good a place to start as any. He grasped it in his hands and pulled, before long the door was cleared and he was able to get out. He grabbed his lantern and headed out back into the main area, turned left and entered the room. No sooner than his foot meeting the floor did the door to his left start shaking as something on the other side banged on it. Daniel, needless to say, quickly took back everything he'd ever said about barrels and dived behind a stack of them nearby. Cold sweat formed on his brow, oh no. Not again. He waited a moment but the banging had stopped and everything was quiet. Maybe the door was locked. He crinkled his nose, picking up a foul smell which he simply ignored. 

"Hello?" Nothing moved, nothing banged or popped up into his face. He assumed this was a good thing. Just to be safe he picked up a small pebble from the floor and tossed it at the door, quickly ducking back behind the barrels as it hit the wood with a thunk.

Nothing. And for once, nothing was a good thing. 

Muttering under his breath he stood up and held his lantern out in front of him, taking the time to look at the room's contents properly.

As soon as he did he regretted it, unable to tear his gaze away. There were chunks of what seemed to be rotting flesh scattered on the ground. He covered his mouth, realizing what he'd smelt before must have been this. He shook his head for no real reason, perhaps in a futile attempt to get away from the scene before him. That was when the first of many, many horrible spine-tingling experiences unfurled before him. His eyes fogged up and he staggered, swaying slightly as he heard voices getting louder and louder. 

"What's happening?" A man, his voice vaguely familiar, called out in desperation. "Oh! It feels like my chest is going to burst!"

"My God, Wilhem, do something!" Another man called out. The desperation and anger clear in their voices made Daniel's stomach drop.

"Accept it, we're not getting out of here alive." A third man, no... Wilhem, replied. His voice was quiet, the voice of defeat. 

"Alexander! You piece of shit, let us out of here!" The man called out before he was abruptly cut off and started to choke on something. Images of men suffocating on their own blood filled Daniels mind and made all the weight in his body drop to his feet. Pictures of muscles seemingly randomly rupturing and turning inside out, skin splitting and bone cracking as they screamed, no way of knowing how or why it was happening. They clawed at the walls, the floors and the door. They writhed on the ground as the whites of their eyes