The Scorpion or the Grasshopper: Which?

Dorian had difficulty concentrating for the rest of the day. The voice had been silenced after its request to be discovered. With a heavy sigh Dorian went to retrieve his coat. He crossed the entrance to the many cellars and paused as a cold shiver passed over him. Dorian gasped, wondering what had caused the unnatural reaction.

Was it curiosity that made him open the door? It was true that Dorian had been reprimanded many times for his insatiable curiosity. Or could it have been something else? Was it this strange voice that was pushing at his senses? In either case the door had been disturbed and Dorian could not ignore what waited on the other side.

Dorian took a deep breath, filling his lungs with what would be his last breath of semi-fresh air for the unclear amount of time that his little detour would take from him. The darkness surrounded Dorian as he descended the staircase to the first cellar. About half way down the steps Dorian was forced to feel along the walls in order to continue on his journey.

The walls were damp and slimy. Soft squeaks of rodents could be heard as Dorian’s hands faintly brushed bits of fur. Dorian drew another deep breath and the air reeked of mold, among other things that he could not place a name to. He was determined to move on, even when the rodents scurried across his boots. They action nearly caused him to fall but he managed to keep his balance. There was something oddly familiar about the events. It seemed so much like his dream...

Dorian stepped slowly off the last stair and groaned. The musty smell of the first cellar hit him hard. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before. It was dreadful. The way it felt as if it were trying to crush his fragile lungs was almost unbearable. However, he knew that he must go on. He could feel that there was something waiting for him.

A sudden change in the angle of the floor made Dorian stumble forward. His hands swiftly moved to protect the rest of his body from hitting the hard ground below. Unfortunately it wasn’t enough and he hit the ground hard. The force of his fall knocked the wind out of him, making it difficult for him to stand.

Dorian carefully lifted himself off the floor and leaned against the nearest wall for support. A sharp sting made him aware of the cut he had obtained in the fall. Glancing down at his left knee he noticed a small amount of blood already staining his clothes.

“Damn.” Dorian muttered while bending to further examine the growing red stain. Part of him wanted to turn back. He looked up at the dark staircase and sighed. It hadn’t gone far and he could always come back in a day or two when the cut healed.

“Don’t turn back yet. You’ve learned nothing.” The mysterious whisper had returned. Dorian nodded hypnotically. He would continue. It wasn’t enough damage to hold him back.