Free Creeping Shadow (The Rise of Isaac, Book One) by Caroline Peckham Page A

trapped. His mind conjured terrifying images of what lay ahead in the dim passages.
    He spotted a large, brass bell attached half way up the wall with a rope dangling down from it and wondered what it would take to make him ring it.
    He started forward, turning right down a long corridor as he carefully picked a route through the rabbit warren.
    " Oliver ," a voice whispered near his ear.
    He paused and a shiver fled down his spine.
    Whispers began from all around, growing in a crescendo until his ears filled with a hiss of noise. Most of the words were barely distinguishable but he caught the odd, disjointed phrase.
    "... can't take care of your family...father would be ashamed...nothing but a disappointment. .."
    Oliver shook his head and pressed his hands to his ears but the voices didn't dim. He started to jog through the maze, hoping he could outpace the whispers but they only grew louder as he moved. He turned down identical corridors at random, becoming disorientated inside the labyrinth.
    "... never be strong enough ..."
    He met a dead end and backtracked, sprinting back down the passage past another bell and taking an alternative route.
    "... just a boy ..."
    He emerged in the centre of the maze, a towering square space with no other exit but the one he entered through.
    Words were painted on the walls in what looked like blood, the wetness of the red liquid apparent by its sheen. Drips ran down the stone as if they had been written just moments ago.
    The voices began to repeat the words that were on the wall in a torrent of noise.
    " Abandoned. Useless. Weak. Failure. Worthless. Unwanted. Powerless. Alone ."
    He was struggling to keep himself grounded in reality, feeling fear creep into his chest. It was as if the maze itself had seen his darkest thoughts and doubts, using them to make him feel vulnerable.
    He glanced at the large bell that was hanging on one wall then pressed his knuckles into his eyes, gritting his teeth and grinding them against each other to force the anxiety away.
    "It's just words," he said aloud and the whispers stopped dead.
    Oliver opened his eyes and his breath caught in his throat. A circular well had appeared directly in front of him, so close that the tips of his shoes hung over the edge. He stumbled backwards and eyed the endless abyss that dropped away before him.
    "Help!" a woman cried up from it.
    "Mum?" Oliver called in alarm as he recognised her voice, leaning forward and swaying as gravity tugged at him.
    "Oliver! Help me!" Her voice echoed up from the bottom.
    " You can't save her ." The whispers returned.
    Oliver gazed down into the darkness, balancing precariously on the edge of the void.
    A shrill scream rang up from the depths of the black hole, making Oliver stiffen in fright. He shuffled around the rim, frantically searching for a way down. The walls of the well were perfectly smooth and he could see no foothold.
    "Mum!" he shouted, though he knew it was pointless.
    " Too afraid, too cowardly ," the whispers said, taunting him.
    Oliver's pulse thumped loudly in his ears as he stared down into the black pit.
    " Useless ."
    He breathed out through his nose, focusing on slowing his accelerated heartbeat.
    " Worthless ."
    He wasn't afraid of heights but the thought of what he was about to do made his instincts scream at him to stop.
    " Coward ."
    Oliver jumped forward into the well.
    Air rushed past his ears and he let out a shout of fear as he hurtled down. He reached out his hands, trying to grip the wall but they slipped and slid down the smooth stone. He gasped as a jagged protrusion sliced the skin on his palm.
    He landed in a taught, rope net and flew back into the air as it flexed from his weight. On the second bounce the net vanished and he cried out, his arms flailing as he plummeted toward the ground.
    Oliver hit the stone floor with a smack.
    A shaky breath escaped his lips as he mentally assessed the damage; he was grateful to find that the net had slowed his