Once upon a time, in a little stone house in the forest, there lived a young woman and her

step-mother. The woman was called Violet, and she was very beautiful and clever. When Violet
was only 6 years old, her mother passed away, and a year or two afterwards, her father remarried.
Apparently her father missed his first wife too much for he joined her in the grave soon after,
when Violet was 10. Ever since then it was just Violet and her step-mother.
Now Violet was 28 years old and more beautiful than ever. Her wavy dark hair shone like
raven feathers mixed with fire, and her brown eyes glistened with warmth and mystery, all their
own. In contrast, her step mother was short and sallow, with a personality full of spite. Where
Violet had a fiery streak, it was tempered by a genuine respect for other people. Her step mother
on the other hand, actively enjoyed antagonising and causing grief to everyone around her as
much as possible. Needless to say, with such different temperaments, the two did not exactly
get along very well.
One sunny day in spring time, Violet went out to indulge her favourite pastime: walking
in the woods near her home. Any chance to get out from under the thumb of her burdensome
guardian was a chance to be taken. That day was the perfect combination of golden sunlight with
cool breezes, and the birds were chirping merrily amongst the tree branches.
She was walking along singing softly to herself when she spied a very large pine tree. It
was a few paces off the main trail, but easily visible above the bushes because of its great
height. She had never noticed it before, which she found strange due to living in that area all her
life, and it was obviously quite old.
She approached the tree and saw that due to its large size that no undergrowth surrounded
it, and it was perpetually bathed in shadow. She paced counterclockwise around the trunk,
looking up and down at it. The highest branches were lost to sight, and the proliferation of green
needles and pinecones was an intricate mosaic.
At one point on her walk around the large trunk she spied a part of the bark which
seemed to be peeling off. She went forward to inspect it and saw it was a little smaller than her
hand and at about knee-height. She fit her hand underneath it and pulled on it to try and dislodge
it from the tree. Then without warning a large piece of the trunk swung inwards like a door...
Violet gasped and stared. This opening was about half of her height, pitch black, and arched
with straight-cut sides; it was obviously of intelligent design.
She looked behind her with a sudden feeling of apprehension. There was no one
watching. She took a few steps forward and peered deeper into the opening but all she could see
was darkness. She stuck her hand in, and felt empty space. With a deep breath, she crouched
down and entered the space. She could dimly see a part of the floor that was reflecting the dim
light outside. It looked like it was going downwards. She decided it was absolute madness to
continue on without any means of lighting her way, so she turned around and quickly went back
outside. So as not to alert anyone of her discovery, she groped in the dark for the bark doorway
and pulled it shut after her. It made a small click, and once again looked as normal as the rest of
tree.
That night she lay in bed pondering what could possibly inside the tree. Perhaps it was
an old dwelling space from some strange hermit? Maybe it only looked like a door, and it was

some weird natural occurrence? She fell asleep with all of these conjectures running around in
her mind.
When she awoke the next morning she was more determined than ever to find out what
she could about that strange space inside the pine tree. She hurried through her chores as fast as
she could, and as afternoon fell she gathered up 2 candles and some matches. She stuck them in
her pocket and as an afterthought, grabbed a sharp kitchen knife which she wrapped in a
handkerchief and put in her other pocket.
She somewhat cautiously made her way down the forest trail, constantly checking behind
her to make sure no one was following. This day was cloudier than the last, and no birds sang.
It was as if the dead silence was a premonition of something bad to come. She steeled her nerves
and continued on until she reached the part of the trail where the tree was located.
Her heart beat fast with an uncontrollable anticipation as she again found the strange bark
handle. She pulled on it, and as before the opening appeared. She lit a match and applied it to
one of her candles which she thrust ahead of her. This time, when she entered the small space
she made sure to push the door shut behind her. Although she had to crouch to avoid hitting her
head on the wooden ceiling, she was too excited to be uncomfortable. With light in hand, this
time was far less frightening.
She could see in front of her a series of earthen steps which led downwards in a
clockwise direction, apparently to the underground. She giggled nervously to herself at the idea
of going underground, but proceeded ahead. She walked down at least a hundred steps then at
last came to a passageway.
This passage was also earthen and apparently manmade, but was very low-ceilinged, like
the stairwell. There were no other distinguishing features she could see, no torches or designs of
any kind. Violet walked slowly along it, and her back started to hurt from crouching. When the
passage came to an end there was a slight turn to the right and then it opened up into a sort of
hall. Looking up she could see a few tree roots poking through the ceiling and as her candle
flickered on the walls, she could tell this space was much larger than where she had been before.
The candle did not shed its light farther than perhaps two metres in front of her, but she could see
that it was reflecting on what looked like a smooth wooden pillar.
She took a step forward and froze- she heard a scratching scrambling sound. It had come
from slightly in front of her and to the left, out of the reach of the candlelight.
Then, before she could breathe, something fell over her head and everything went dark.
Violet shook her head violently to try and clear the feeling of suffocation and restore her
sight. It didnt work. Apparently she was bound with her hands behind her back in a seated
position. The object blocking her sight was pulled off and she looked around her.
She was still underground, but she was in a smaller room. There was a candle, her candle
in fact, sitting on a table nearby. And there in front of her was one of the most grotesque little
men she had ever seen. He was only the size of a 5 or 6 year old child. He was wearing a
strangely red-coloured cloak with a hood pulled over the top of his head. He had a very large
curving nose and tiny beady little black eyes. As she stared at him, she saw that his eyes had no

whites, and were just pure black like an animal of some kind. His brow was furrowed in an evil
grimace and he had rubbery lips and many, many wrinkles. He looked at least 70 years old, but
because they lacked wrinkles there was a youthful quality in his hands, which he wrung in front
of him as he grinned. It was all very strange and frightening.
Youre not supposed to be down here, the little man said. His voice was a creaky, high
pitched slow affair, like a wizened child struggling to release air from his mouth.
Im sorry, I just stumbled upon the door by accident... Violet answered cautiously.
Well no matter, by accident or by purpose! You arent going to believe how lucky of an
occasion this is! Not only do we know your name is Violet, but hear this! Here the figure
sniggered loudly to himself as spittle ran down his chin, We were going to kidnap you anyway!
What a coinky-dink, ehhh! Just a few weeks ago, your stepmother wanted to be rid of you and
she offered us money to take you and to do what we would with you, which I think shall be a
nice combination of slavery and marriage to the King!
Violets heart dropped to her feet.
Well no more chit-chat, time to get you dressed up proper for His Lowness. Squeaked
the little man.
Dont you mean His Highness? countered Violet.
Of course not! The King of the Underworld is proud to be the lowest of the low!
The little man reached down and untied her ankles from the chair she had been stuck in,
and marched her ahead of him out of the room. He did not have the courtesy to take the candle
with him, so she was stumbling ahead in the dark. His unnatural black eyes must have been able
to see in the dark because he gave her directions like, Two steps forward, now turn left, etc.
After what seemed like an interminable length of time of stumbling and walking and
feeling a bit along walls, the grotesque midget at her back finally said, Halt! Violet stood still
and waited. There was the sound of a match being lit and then a torch that was set into the wall
was set ablaze.
Violet was now in a room with a large pile of white cloth, and in the corner, what looked
like the curb of a well. She walked over and peered in, and saw that it was full almost to the
brim with a thick-looking red liquid. She poked her finger in and quickly withdrew it; it felt like
nothing she had felt before, except maybe thin paint?
Oh I see youve found the blood well cackled the little man.
Violet felt a bit sick to her stomach and quickly wiped her finger on the dirt wall.
Blood, as in lifes blood?! she exclaimed.
Yes, whenever we capture a human, or punish one of our own kind, we mash them until
all the blood runs down and collects into the well. We just love the colour of it on our robes, and
it also has a wonderful energy to it, cant you feel it? It provides us with a kind of psychic or
magickal armour, and a source of slight power when it encases us!

I have no idea what youre talking about, mumbled Violet, But it sounds horrible...
Your fate, until you are suitably miserable for the King, is to dye our robes, gestured
the little man towards the pile. Dunk the whole robe in the well, then slosh it around in there to
get it in all of the nooks and crannies. Then hang it up as it is on one of those pegs there. When
it is dry then move it to one of those wooden chests against the wall.
Violets life for the next few days became one of a monotony of horror, as the blood of
countless creatures stained her hands and the stench stuck in her nostrils.
Unbeknownst to Violet, back at her little stone house, her step-mother was receiving
young men almost daily, who were enquiring as to her whereabouts. They had known of her
beauty, as word in such a small community of villages and solitary houses travelled fast. As
such, they had been planning on asking her hand in marriage for some time. Some had already
been there earlier, and been turned away, without Violet ever being told by her step-mother,
others were trying their luck for the first time.
Now that Violet was gone, the young suitors were imbued with a sense not just of love of
her beauty, but also a sense of duty in tracking her down and saving her from whatever fate may
have become of her. Strangely enough, her despicable step-mother had no qualms about telling
each of them that she had been kidnapped by the little people. The suitors found it most strange
that Violets step-mother however, did not seem in the least distraught about this.
Thus did a young man named Thomas set out early one morning to find the lair of the
little people, and to rescue Violet from their tiny evil clutches.

--

The other man turned around and said, It will only be easier on both of us if we join
forces?
Thomas thought a bit, and nodded, saying, Certainly! but inside he was slightly annoyed
at perhaps having to share any rewards or glory with this stranger.
Im John, by the way, said the other man.
Thomas, said Thomas, putting out his hand. The two shook hands.
Do you have any idea where this place might be located? asked Thomas.
Not at all, but the forest isnt that big, and I do know where Violets cottage is located, so she
cant have been taken far from there; so I suggest we start there, and fan out.
After a short trek, they made it to the little stone cottage where Violet lived. There was a
small path leading away into the woods, on the other side of the building, so the two made their

way down it. Unbeknownst to them, they were taking the very path Violet had been on when she
found the lair of the little people. They checked either side of the path, looking for anything out
of the ordinary.
What do you suppose is a tell-tale sign? asked Thomas.
I think we should check for little holes, or burrows, said John. I heard they dont live in
houses so much as they just dig little warrens underground.
They systematically covered the left and right of the path for a good hour, very slowly,
when John stopped and looked into the distance.
Whats wrong? asked Thomas.
I thought I heard something, like a creaking noise. From over there. He pointed through some
bushes towards a clearing. The two pushed their way through the undergrowth, and came upon a
large clearing in the forest, surrounded by tall old oak trees.
What kind of creaking dyou mean? Thomas asked, staring.
Kind of like when you step on a floorboard, or when a door needs oiling.
Thats odd, lets keep our eyes peeled.
Just then there was a rustling in the undergrowth nearby and a little squeaky laugh. They
both stopped their searching and ran towards the sound. They frantically pushed aside branches
and bushes, eyes peeled on the ground.
There! shouted Thomas, pointing at a section of the forest floor in front of him. A piece of the
ground just moved! It... flapped down! He and John ran towards the spot, which appeared for
all the world like a normal piece of earth hidden under a bush.
Thomas got on his hands and knees and started feeling around in the dirt, then he gave a
shout. Aha! His hands seemed to go underneath a piece of earth, and he pulled with both arms.
There before their eyes a trapdoor covered in earth on one side, and made of wood on the other,
plopped up on hinges and opened.
The two men gazed with their eyes open wide at the sight of the hold in the ground; they
felt half-fearful, and definitely excited.
Well, whos first? asked John.
After you, grinned Thomas.
John looked downwards into the hole and saw that it contained an inky blackness, with
no real discerning characteristics other than some earthen walls on its sides. John rummaged in
his bag for a candle, lit it, and thrust it in the hole. There was nothing to see, no stairs, no floor,
just a gaping maw. John threw the candle down. It fell for about 3 metres then hit the ground. It
was a drop, but nothing that would hurt them as long as they landed softly.

Well, there isnt really any way down except jumping, so make sure you bend your knees and
roll enough when you hit the ground, said John and with that he plummeted into the
underground.
By the light of the candle on the ground, which had miraculously not gone out, Thomas
could see John land, tuck, and roll with a slight Oomph! John stood up. Alright! Your turn!
Thomas took a deep breath, exhaled and jumped. The shock of the landing jarred through his old
body, even with the tucking and rolling, but he was unharmed.
By the time Thomas stood up, John had grabbed the candle and thrust it in front of him.
Just then there was a whooshing sound from the darkness in front of them, and before they knew
what to do, a large piece of wood of some kind sliced through the darkness, heading right for
them. John tried to duck, but the beam was too low and large, and it smacked into Johns neck
with a wet thunk, and then Johns head lolled back, and fell off, right in front of Thomas eyes.
The beam was arrested by the grisly deed it had just accomplished, and Thomas could see
a beam hanging on a rope, with a nasty-looking blade stuck on the front of it. Thomas looked
down at the pool of blood lapping at his feet, and took a step backwards.
Just then there was another wicked laugh, like he had heard previously and quick as a
flash a little man with fungal-ly white face came at them in the dark, grabbed Johns body, and
dragged it backwards into the blackness. Then a second white face with black eyes rushed out of
the darkness and grabbed the head with both hands and ran off, giggling, with its gruesome
trophy.
By this time the shock had worn off on Thomas and he voided his stomach. There were
only two ways to go, back the way he came and try to climb up, or ahead into the void. Fear got
the better of him and he scrambled towards the hole they had jumped down. There was
absolutely no handholds on the dry smooth soil, so with a cleverness born of desperation, he took
the pocket knife he carried, cut as much of the rope as he could off of the death-trap and after
many hurried tries, managed to get a noose around some undergrowth outside and pull himself to
safety. In his fear he left the door open and the rope hanging out, and ran off into the woods in a
panic.
***
A day later, when Thomas was finally able to speak again instead of gibbering
incoherently, he got the story out, of what had happened. In attendance was his friend Bill, and
Thomas father. Bill swore to help Thomas rescue Violet once and for all, and now that they
knew how crafty the little people were, to make sure nothing happened to his friend.
If they touch a hair on your head, they will be sorry! vowed Bill, which was ironic because the
shock of what he had been through had turned all of Thomas previously black hair as white as
snow.
With much goading and prodding, Bill finally managed to get Thomas out of the house
and on the way back to the forest. Thomas could never forget the whereabouts of that trapdoor
so long as he lived, so it was a simple matter to locate it a second time. This time the pair had

come equipped with swords, more candles, and rope of their own. There was nothing that could
stand in their way now, they would just be more careful!
They returned to the site and found to their surprise that the rope Thomas had climbed out
with was still usable and peeking out of the hole. The pair descended the rope and cast a look
around the tunnel. The deathtrap was still dismantled, but there was no sign of even blood where
John had died. The party tiptoed around the site anyway and continued through the tunnel.
They walked for a good 10 minutes or so not seeing or hearing anything. Then Thomas
spotted a group of funny looking flowers growing in the sandy soil against the tunnel wall. It
was strange, because it was so dark in the tunnels, how a flower could be growing was a mystery.
These were a thick, large, black petalled variety that looked kind of like tulips, but even their
stems were black. They smelt extremely sweet and alluring even at a distance, and so Thomas
grinned and strode toward them.
Id be careful, if I were you, said Bill, Never know when its going to be another trap.
Oh what harm could it be, its not like Im going to eat them. Thomas picked one and put it up
to his nose and inhaled deeply. A change came over his face as a big grin lit up his features. His
eyes became lidded and sleepy-looking. Wow these smell great, Im going to rest a bit, you go
on ahead, itll just be five minutes.
Oh no I wont! If you must dilly dally with smelling the flowers, Ill wait for you. Bill replied
testily.
Thomas sat down among the flowers and inhaled deeply, his face buried in one large
specimen. He gave a contented sigh, and collapsed face first onto the ground. With a cry Bill
ran towards him and turned him over on his back. His face was very pale and his eyes were
closed, breathing shallow and slow.
Thomas! Wake up! Thomas! cried Bill, smacking Thomas hard in the face. It was to no avail.
He was about to pull Thomas to his feet and drag him away when he saw that his face was blue
and he wasnt breathing. He beat on his chest and tried to get him to breathe, but within a minute
or less he was dead.
**

Meanwhile, Violet was half dead with working in the dye-mill. One day as she lay
prostrate on the earthen floor one of the hideous dwarves came shuffling in.
Just thought youd like to know, said he, Your marriage to the king is to be in one week! So if
you die before then youll be sorry! We have ways of necromancy you wouldnt even believe!
with an evil chuckle he turned about and slammed the door.

**

At home, Bill was pondering his next move, now that he not only felt the need to avenge
his friends death, but also rescue Violet. He decided that two people were definitely not enough
of a group for such a dangerous mission, and he resolved to tell everyone not to touch anything
even slightly out of the ordinary.
Therefore, after the necessary precautions, Bill set out heading a party of five, including
himself. That was all that could be found, as people were starting to get nervous and give up,
after hearing of all the deaths that were occurring.
The party arrived at the entrance to the underground, and proceeded past the area of the
death-trap, past the flowers, and kept on going. At that point they noticed that the ground was
gradually sloping downwards and the tunnel was getting a bit smaller. After walking a good ten
minutes with no events or mishaps, the tunnel opened up into a large cavern. The strange thing
about this cavern was it was almost well-lit. There was a strange blue glow suffusing the whole
thing, allowing the party to see that it was a huge space. Bill likened it to an underground
cathedral, but three or four times the normal size. En lieu of pillars, there were stalactites and
stalagmites. En lieu of pews, the slope they were on allowed them to see the whole space was
criss-crossed with walls. It was a labyrinth. The party gaped in awe at the size, but pressed on
down the slope.
When they arrived at the bottom of the cavern, they could see that the walls dividing up
the labyrinth were about twice the height of a man, and made of rock. This whole thing had
been carved out by unknown hands. At the mouth of the labyrinth there was a carving, but it was
in an unknown language. Next to the inscription was a crude carving of a skull.
By this time the men were feeling apprehensive. They had not reckoned on being
underground for more than a day, and this labyrinth seemed nearly impossible to fathom. In the
back of their minds each man was thinking perhaps they should turn back, but none wanted to be
seen as the coward.
Bill spoke up, Well lads, we can do this, yes?
Are you sure we have enou- ventured one of the party, but choked back his question
before he finished and stared at his feet.
Everyone nodded to Bill.
The party decided to save their candles as the way, although ghostly, was lit well enough.
They set out in single file into the belly of the beast. They traversed through corridor after
corridor, until they had lost all sense of direction. Perhaps an hour into the excursion, one of
them had an idea.
Perhaps we stood someone on my shoulders, and we can try and see if we are going the
right direction? They all grunted in affirmative and the smallest stepped forth. He clambered up
his fellows shoulders and was just able to see above the wall.
Uh, chaps. Bad news. Yes...
Why? asked Bill.

I can see tonnes of walls, yes, but it looks like we are in the centre of a gigantic brain. I mean...
The way looks the same on either side, you cant see any cave walls, we dont know which
direction we came from!
The other members of the party looked disturbed. One stepped forward. Ere, let me
see! The little one jumped down and the other man took his place and quickly jumped down.
Oim afraid es roight, gents. Tis no way to tell eads nor tails...
They all stared mutely, fearfully around in a daze.
Well, do we want to try and turn back, or press on? ventured one member.
The way I see it, said another, is it seems like we are right smack in the middle, so if
we are going to go anywhere, we may as well go forwards.
There was some indecision. Some wanted to go forward and some wanted to go back.
At the end of some arguing, 3 people turned tail and Bill and the little guy, whose name was
George went on ahead.
No good bunch of yellow cowards, grumbled George.
After another hour, neither party was any closer to their respective goals, but they were
extremely exhausted. They collapsed against the labyrinth walls, and nodded off. They were
woken by a deep, rumbling, roaring sound. It was like a strange mix of an earthquake, a large
beast wailing, and perhaps the blast from an alpine horn. It chilled the blood. Both parties
looked around in fright, eyes wide. The sound happened again, and this time it sank deeper into
the marrow of the men. They panicked and fled every direction at once, as if brainwashed by
dread.
The end result was that one of the party returning to the entrance smacked his head
against a wall and knocked himself out. The other two members found him and were unable to
carry him farther than twenty minutes, and had to give up, promising each other that they would
be back for him.
The group that pressed forward had only run straight ahead, together and found
themselves in an area of the labyrinth that was wider, and after walking around a bend, they were
in a kind of open space, or square. In the centre was no longer rough stone ground, but large
flagstones. Sitting upon them was what looked like a giant bird bath or stone basin on a pedestal.
The pedestal had some steps, which led up to the basin, which was a little higher than waist high.
Bill had a flash of inspiration, and decided to see if anything more useful could be seen
from this upper vantage point than the partys previous attempt. He ascended the steps and stood
upon the basin. As he looked around, before he could register what he saw, he felt a shift and
heard a slight click, and one of his feet lowered slightly. He was standing on a button!
SHING! The moment the button was depressed, out of every wall in the labyrinth shot
thousands of razor sharp spikes...

Bill jumped off the button with alarm and leaped down from the pedestal. As he did, the
spikes disappeared back into the walls instantly. He heard a groaning and turned around and saw
George lying in a pool of blood, barely recognisable. He hurried over to him and the instant he
saw the hole in Georges head, he knew it was no use...
Needless to say, the minute he had recovered from his shock, he knew he was the only
one left alive in the labyrinth. Now that he had no choice but to press on, he stood atop the
pedestal again and peered into the distance as far as he could. He could make out a fairly faint
blue glow, which meant that the other side of the cavern was in that direction; he just hoped it
was the proper side. Feeling that he had been generally going the same direction the whole time,
he decided to press on towards the glow.
It seemed an interminable journey, and he lost track of time, and used up all of his
provisions, but in an almost dreamlike state, unbelieving of his eyes, he spied the exit. Best of
all, when he went through it and looked at the outside, none of the carvings that adnorned the
entrance were there. So he had found the exit at last! And it had only claimed four of his party...
He took a moment to reflect on their deaths, feeling a mix of horrible emotions, but steeled
himself and pressed forward.
A series of black stone stairs presented themselves, going up slightly to a hole in the
cavern wall. He pulled out his sword and ascended the steps. Making his way up to the top he
saw that the tunnel he was approaching was pitch black, and lit a candle. Its flickering light
shone off walls which were more dirt than stone, and he could even see a rogue tree root poking
through the ceiling here and there. He proceeded forward cautiously, well aware of the traps that
could be lurking.
The last thing he heard in this life was a slight bestial grunt reminiscent of the eerie
roaring in the labyrinth. As the cudgel that the minotaur was holding crashed into the back of his
head, and he felt his skull cave in and liquid start to run down the skin of his neck, he thought of
love, and the sun, and then he died.
The minotaur licked the blood off the end of his club with glee, and descended the steps
back to the labyrinth he loved so much.
Violet heard a strange grunt, a loud CRACK and then a thump outside her door. She
pounded on the door and screamed Hello??!? At all the noise one of the little men unlocked the
door and peered in.
Yes? What is it? he screeched.
I heard something strange outside. She said.
Oh that was just one of your would-be rescuers. Hes dead now, the minotaur killed him. You
can see if you like.
Some strange compulsion drew Violet out of her cell and into the hallway. Slumped in a
heap in the middle of the hall was a men with bashed in skull, blood running out into a pool and
soaking into the earthen floor. Violet felt sick to her stomach and rushed back inside.

As the weeks progressed, Violet was finally married to the King. At first she was
disgusted by his wizened and wrinkled appearance, his tiny stature, and his sinister staring black
eyes. But in time, living side by side, she grew to understand his ways, and his personality. She
began to share in his hobbies such as mole hunting, and swimming in the underground rock
pools. Eventually, after a year had passed, she even grew to enjoy his touch, and to miss him
when he was away from their chambers. And later, when she had been married to him for almost
two years, she even grew to love him.
One day, when her husband gave her the option to go above ground and see the forest,
she ascended the spiral stair under the old oak. It seemed like another person had first come
down those stairs, that time long ago. She pushed open the hidden door in the tree trunk and
stepped into the light of the sun.
The glare was horrendous, and she squinted and shielded her eyes with her hands. The
air smelt too full of strange plant smells, and the heat and light was hurting her skin and her eyes.
With a shudder she turned around and descended the stairs into the perpetually dark and cool
tunnels she now called home.
She put the hood of her blood-red cloak over her head, and shuddered at the memory of
being above ground. How she had ever been such a stupid and naive girl, enjoying the sun and
the company of the tall people, she would never understand.