My Reign Ends

I survey my domain with pride and strike a beetle scurrying across the floor. The spark of light is brief and tiny, wholly unsatisfactory. I am in wait of bigger prey. Night falls above me. I sense the coolness of the air in the catacombs. The dim lit corridors of my domain are under a city bustling with humans living their pointless lives. They make goals, hoard money, breed and expect long lives. They can not comprehend other existences, other lives under their very feet.

The construction over decades above me of buildings and roads impacted my domain upon occasion. It was saved by archeologists and professors, siting historical interest and the preservation of relics. They are unaware of my presence for I am careful not to prey on a crowd, but on individuals or, sometimes pairs of humans – they are unsuspecting victims of my power. It is my delight, my purpose.

My first visitors were pallbearers and wailing family members laying to rest their relatives when the catacombs were first built. Their digging released me from my confinement in the dark earth. I struck the lone mourner, the curious youths, and the solitary caretakers. It was not my intention to kill them, merely make them bow down to my superiority, have them worship me as is my due. Instead, they screamed in terror, died at my feet, or fled the catacombs never to be s