Here is a fun story I wrote which I was exploring the change of tense.
La Cueva
The dim light gives a faint outline to a four-foot stretch of uneven cave floor before him. After venturing for two hours through a cold, damp cave, Adrian walks on in fatigue, undisturbed that the dim light does not match the high oil level in his lamp. The rugged terrain at his feet, once of no notice too his strong legs, is now an endless boulder field that lies before him. His feet fumble on the wet ground, his hands collect filth each time he reaches for the mud-soiled cave walls, and he feels as though he were a marble on the deck of a sailing ship, tossed to and fro. Thoughts dance in his mind as he tries to rationalize his actions. The deeper he goes, the deeper his contempt for that stupid grin.
They had been in Peru for a week participating in study abroad. On the trip was Adrian, his two friends, and unfortunately his stepbrother Corbin. Everyone on the trip was studying Spanish except for Corbin. The only reason he was able to tag along was because their parents have been trying for three years to force a relationship between the two. This was their last desperate attempt. Their mission was to provide a bonding experience. Adrian deemed it a failure from the start.
From day one Corbin had been a nuisance, completely dependant on Adrian and his friends for communication. By day six, Adrian had run out of patience, and did not want the final week’s fun to be wasted babysitting. In disgust Adrian stared at the miserable grin on Corbin’s face.
While riding on the bus their instructor was enlightening them with the rich history of the surrounding Peruvian mountains. Their destination was a small village just a few miles away from sacred Incan caves, in which they planned to take a guided tour on the day following. While Adrian’s teacher warned them not to enter any of the caves alone, for fear of disturbing any on going study, the locals riding the bus, very seriously warned them not to disturb the caves for fear of death. They told of ancient Incan blood spilt deep within the caves to satisfy the Goddess Earth. When white men came, the sacrifices ceased, yet Mother Earth still thirsted for blood; and so it goes that intruders would be made living sacrifices by the spirits. Adrian’s eyes stirred with awful delight when the cave of Luz Muerta was mentioned. “It’ll wipe the smirk right off his face.” He thought. Just then, an old Peruvian man, who seemed to pick up on Adrian’s countenance, warned him in a soft Spanish voice not to enter “La Cueva de Luz Muerta”, the cave of dead light.
“Not even the guides dare enter Senor.” Said the old man.
Before Adrian could respond Corbin loudly interrupted.
“What’d he just say, what’s he saying? Why is he talking to you like that?”
Turning away from the man, Adrian smiled and quickly began to fill Corbin’s mind with the superstitions regarding Luz Muerta, adding much emphasis to the terrible descriptions of the cave.
Within fifteen minutes after arriving in the village Adrian and his friends led Corbin up the narrow, overgrown trail to Luz Muerta. Soon they had persuaded Corbin to enter the cave with nothing but an oil lamp taken from the village. He was frightened, but continued on, not willing to admit his concerns in the midst of his peers. When his footsteps could no longer be heard the three remaining at the mouth of the cave tore off down the hill, away from the darkness.
Back in the village they retired for the night, proud of their cruel accomplishment, fully anticipating the visual image of Corbin cowering in his bed the next day. In the morning, however, they found Corbin’s bed unexpectedly empty. He had not returned during the night.
“Don’t worry”, said his still jovial friend, “everything’s fine. He is just messing with you.”
At hearing this Adrian’s fears were temporarily relieved. Yet, when all that could be found of Corbin was the still warm, unbroken lamp sitting upright on the cold stone floor of the cave, his heart began pumping at overwhelming speeds. “How could Corbin have been stupid enough to keep going?” he thought. Begrudgingly, Adrian lit the lamp and left his somber friends behind in a desperate attempt to find his dim-witted stepbrother, dreading the possibility of having to tell his parents that Corbin had gone missing in Peru.
The light is now noticeably dimmer. Over the course of another two hours Adrian relived each moment that led to this, paying no attention to the nearly empty lamp. The flame flutters as it struggles to stay lit. Superstitions flood his mind. Adrian turns to run knowing the lamp will not stay lit long enough for his escape. With strength in his legs leaving, the darkness of the cave advancing, and the light from his lamp ever fading, he carries on. It’s thick, the darkness, like humid fumes clouding his eyes, filling his nose, drowning his lungs. Blackness pulls from every direction. His eyes cling to the orange coal on the end of the wick, knowing it is the last light he will ever see. Torturous pain seizes his body; it is as though rodents are eating him from the inside out. Darkness tears into him as the cave continues to erase his existence, his body and soul vanishing into the thick blackness. As quickly as the last ember fades away, so does Adrian. The only trace of his existence is the still warm, unbroken lamp sitting up right on the cold stone floor of the cave.
