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The Caves Under Lascaux
🕑 Added 2022-05-31 20:57:47 +0000 UTCA short story commission for Archibald Goodwin, who wanted a full story for his Patreon Reward (https://www.patreon.com/posts/patreon-reward-65003799)
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The caves under Lascaux were closed to the public. Officially this was for the sake of historical preservation, the winding network of caverns stretched for miles and miles beneath the scenic countryside of southern France and all along the walls of this sprawling granite labyrinth were collected hundreds of paintings from the Neolithic era. Although this assortment of hand-painted hunters, animals, and symbols had stood the test of time for thousands of years, its rediscovery in the modern era had exposed the prehistoric paints to an unprecedented amount of light from the lamps of gawking tourists and interested explorers. It wasn't long before the ancient artistry began to fade from the cold stone walls, unable to withstand the burgeoning light pollution.
And so a decision was made, in order to preserve prehistoric man's history it would have to be isolated, blocked off from the populace lest more be destroyed. Or at least that was the excuse the French government gave for blocking it all off.
Of course Annette didn't care about the official reason, she'd been obsessed with the place since she'd read the story as a child. As an anthropology student with a minor in art history, Lascaux held a special place in her heart. She knew she had to see it for herself, the photos and replicas could never hold a candle to the real thing.
So she'd planned it all out carefully and discreetly; found an entrance where the guards were lax with their patrols and where the barricade was flimsy enough for a thin girl like herself could fit through. She'd even packed an honest to God torch to light her path, figuring the light from the flames would be less damaging than a flashlight.
And now here she was, touring the most exclusive art gallery on earth, one not viewed by human eyes in nearly sixty years and before that countless centuries. She took no photos, the sights alone more than enough to satisfy her. Lions, tigers, and bears, oh my! They were all here, scrawled across the rock. Annette’s heart fluttered as she paced down the cold stone tunnels, drinking in the creations of her forefathers. Art! The ability to create! That is what separated humans from the beasts of the wild, she mused. This place, this sacred spot, was truly where primordial man was first born.
Of course there was one small complication to her little sightseeing tour, as the hours ticked on she began to notice that the twisting turns of the caverns didn’t quite seem to line up with the maps she’d printed off the internet and the further along she ventured the more lost she became. She tried to turn back, find her way back to the entrance point, but every step seemed to be in the wrong direction, leading her deeper and deeper into the cave.
It wasn't long before the girl's initial wonder turned into panic, this wasn't part of the plan, how could she have made such a serious mistake? Before she knew it, Annette was running, her eyes searching frantically for familiar markings, but none seemed recognizable now. How could she have been so foolish? Who would even find her now? Assuming that she was even found at all.
Rounding a corner, her foot tripped on an uneven rock sending her tumbling to the floor. Annette cursed as she picked herself back up, wincing as she felt the sting of her freshly skinned knees.
Picking up her dropped torch, the girl surveyed her surroundings. Another dead end, damn! Looking up at the rock face, Annette took note of the figures painted on the wall; a pair of hunters cornering a beast with spears and bows. She couldn't help but feel a bit of jealousy for the ancient artists who left this scene behind, they probably knew these caves like the back of their hands and would have little respect for the silly girl who had gotten herself lost despite all the conveniently accessible modern knowledge.
As she picked the torch back up, the young woman noticed something different about the paintings on this portion of the walls. Holding the light up to the figures, Annette observed the light red sparkle of reflected torchlight in the painted shapes. Well this is new, she thought, surveying her new discovery. Her research hadn’t mentioned anything about reflective paintings, had the creators used something different in their colors here? Perhaps some metal shavings or a luminescent dye?
Annette took a step back as the light grew brighter, covering her eyes with her hand the girl realized the light from the walls was now brighter than her torch. How was that even possible? Screaming in fright, Annette dropped the torch yet again as an intense red flash washed over her, bathing her and the cavern in fluorescent ruby-red light.
And then just as quickly as it appeared the light vanished, leaving the tossed torch as the sole source of illumination once more. Annette’s mind reeled as she tried to piece together what had just happened, one moment she’d been staring at the paintings and the next she’d been blasted by some strange crimson energy. She tried to calm herself down, steady her breathing, as her face grew flush with a curious new warmth.
Groaning, Annette doubled over in pain as she felt the heat burn its way down to the pit of her stomach. Grimacing, the confused young woman took a staggered step forward as her body temperature began to rise. Beads of sweat began to trickle down her brow and her stomach churned and grumbled as her insides began to shift.
Placing a trembling hand on her aching abdomen, Annette gasped as she felt hard muscle pressing back. Lifting the bottom of her shirt, the girl stared wide-eyed as the light impression of abdominal muscles began to appear. In mere seconds what had once been her trim tummy was replaced with a toned and hardened six pack.
Dropping the shirt, Annette clasped both hands to her head in shock as she tried to make sense of what was happening. Her heart was absolutely pounding in her chest now, the rhythmic drumbeat filled her ears as the heat began to spread throughout her body. Sweat poured out of irritated skin, drenching her shirt and undergarments.
Pinpricks of tiny red hairs began to sprout out of her arms and legs, growing especially thick around her sweaty armpits and groin. Taking a deep breath, Annette could smell the sickly sweet smell of her own musk in the air. Normally the girl hated the smell of body odor, preferring to cover it up with deodorants and perfumes, but something about this smell excited her now. It smelled natural, even primal. Annette licked her lips as she inhaled another breath of musk, the rational part of her mind told her to be embarrassed of her scent, but something else, something strange part of her consciousness urged her arousal on.
Grunting, the feverish woman groped a hand at her bicep, feeling the muscles tense. Veins bulged up her left arm as the muscles on the limb began to bulge outward. Her bicep and forearm filled out with new mass as thick dark hairs erupted through her skin, covering it in a lush red carpet. Her hand was the last to change, her once thin and ladylike fingers swelled out to pudgy, clumsy looking digits. Her nails began to chip and darken, taking on the appearance of animalistic claws.
Holding the changed limb up, Annette noted how strange it looked. She should have been horrified, disgusted even. The mutated arm looked more like that of an ape or beast than that of a civilized young woman, but for some reason she found it difficult to string her thoughts together. She knew something was wrong, but couldn’t seem to put a now hairy finger on what it was. A thick fog was drifting over her mind, slowing her once quick wit, complex ideas like art and history and science were pushed away, replaced with more simplistic urges.
With a sharp jolt, the other arm soon followed suit; Annette winced in pain as bones snapped and muscles bulged, quickly tearing through the sleeve of her shirt. Trembling, the changing girl hunched over, her tiny frame struggling to hold up the new weight. Her posture shifted as her thick, hairy knuckles now touched the cave floor. This felt much better, she mused, why had she ever bothered standing upright in the first place?
Her shoulder blades rose up, pushing outwards as the woman’s tiny frame swelled and broadened. The seams on the back of her shirt burst open, the tattered bits of fabric falling away as coarse hairs sprouted down her growing back.
Her legs were the next to go, thick follicles traced their way down her thighs, shins, and feet as her hips and glutes bulged with new muscle mass. The leather of her boots creaked and groaned as swollen feet burst out from her shoes. One by one, the knuckles of her toes popped out of place, stretching out to give her feet a more simian appearance. A moan slipped from Annette’s lips as her growing thighs stressed against the denim of her shorts. The threads stretched and ripped, unable to contain the woman’s now tree trunk sized legs. The denim scraps fell free, exposing her hairy privates to the cool cave air.
Shuddering and shaking, Annette tried to keep her mind focused, but her thoughts were degrading the more her body shifted. The smell of her own musk seeped into her brain as Annette tried one last time to fight against it, but it was maddeningly impossible. Her mouth tried to form words, to cry out for help, but her mind was increasingly unable to form them. Sentences broke down into words. Simple words like big and strong. Annette liked these words, she knew she was big now and definitely strong. She liked being strong and she liked being big, she wanted to be bigger, stronger, more powerful, for the good of her tribe.
Annette howled in pain as her skull shattered and remolded. Her once neatly braided hair fell apart as split ends and coarse fibers overtook her hair. The top of her skull compressed against her animalistic brain. Her teeth chipped and shattered, turning to sharpened fangs as her jaw pushed outward, turning her soft features into a monstrous appearance. With one final scream, the young student was no more, replaced with a creature far more primitive in nature.
And so the caves remained. Unmolested by modern man and all his trappings. Occasionally an amateur spelunker might try to sneak in, but they rarely get far in, scared off by the rumors of danger. But sometimes they’re chased off by something else, terrified by the sound of howling and snarling from a beast that was long thought forgotten by the passage of time.
