WHEN GEG OPENED HIS EYES, he was nearly devoured by the apocalyptic darkness of the room. The first thing that came to mind, perhaps due to his recent interest in Allan Poe after finding the manuscript key, was the protagonist of the short story — The Pit and the Pendulum — the one who found himself bound at the edge of an unfathomable abyss, hands tied, while a sharp blade descended from the ceiling, swinging back and forth.
He tried to think, to remember what had happened immediately before he lost consciousness, although he should have first illuminated the room to see if he was still in the cathedral's underground. He came to, with a slight headache. He felt the surface of the ground, searching for the flashlight, and only felt safe when he brushed it with his fingertips. With an indescribable sensation, he pushed the switch, and a beam of light brought him back to reality. He was in the seventh room, a step away from the first. He noticed, however, that something had changed since he had lost consciousness.
He tried to remember what that crucial detail was, that feeling of being naked after the blow to the head, that he'd kept subconsciously. That's when he realized his video camera and notebook had been stolen. He slipped into the main room to get a sense of what had happened. He thought of the institution — Os Filhos da Viúva — (The Widow's Sons) and that instinctive ability that led them to the exact place at the right time. It was clear he'd been followed, despite all the precautions taken, and that they'd entered through the same door they'd entered, but worst of all was not knowing why he was still alive, when normally they'd have slit his throat.
Then the image of Giovanna climbing the narrow gallery in search of Umbert came to mind. She must have run into them along the way, so perhaps she and her uncle had also suffered some kind of attack. She preferred to think they were injured or unconscious rather than imagine them dead. In her helplessness, any hope of life would be accepted as the only answer to her questions.
He decided not to wait any longer. He thrust his head into the narrow passage, despite the claustrophobia he felt. For several minutes, which felt like weeks, he slid through the damned hole, forcing him to twist his head to one side if he wanted to move forward. His fingers had to grip the joints between the stones to gain momentum and move forward, for there was no other way.
As time passed, the corridor widened, and his body could once again feel the sense of freedom afforded by the vastness of the space. Finally, he reached the base of the pit, after passing through the window, whose bars had been cut earlier. He looked up. He saw no one, but the ropes still hung from above, and there was the rest of his equipment, including the harness and carabiner, but Giovanna's were missing.
He strapped on his gear again and began climbing, without bothering to put on his safety helmet, anxious about what he might find up there. He had only a few meters to go when he was surprised by the sunlight. It was dawn. That detail made him speed up his task, as all he needed to do was be discovered by the renovation company's employees and reported to the police.
When he finally poked his head out, he breathed a sigh of relief: the place was deserted, but on the other hand, there was also a problem. Giovanna and her uncle had disappeared, which meant they were in the hands of those fanatics.