Something about haunted caves.

there were pools in the caves. The water is hot and silky, with the appearance of steaming milky bowls. There used to be a resort here, but it closed down. We stumbled upon this place by accident. When I bathed in the pools, I felt relaxed and sensual. There were others as well, bathing closer to the spout where the water is richer. Something happened and became wary while the others became scared, irritable, paranoid. We followed them out of the pool but they went deeper and deeper into the mines. The mines themselves seemed to be carved, the walls square from each other. They were of dark gray granite, like the rocks that protrude from loam of the Appalachian mountains. There were many twists, turns, and seemingly endless tunnels. One such tunnel terminated in a wildly canted staircase that dove to unknowable depths. It was down this staircase that we lost some. There was an argument, we tried to convince them to stay, that something in the pools had made them delirious. We knew that if they went so far in they wouldn't come back. We tried to tell them, but they didn't care. They were looking for something, and were convinced the way that they were talking would lead them to it. We gave up and turned back, knowing the others were lost and that following them would lead us to our certain doom. I had a crushing sense of deja vu.

We ourselves became lost in the caves. Whatever happened in the pools had disoriented us. A young man appeared. He was happy, confident, snarky but overall friendly. He is small, but very handsome. He rich brown hair that hangs to the shoulder, and piercing green eyes. He looks like a younger and slimmer Andrew WK. He told us of a strange power in these caves, concentrated in the pools. It is unfriendly to humans, and seeks to disorient them so that they may become lost in its labyrinthine clutches. It is implied that our newfound friend is not human. He leads us to a stone staircase that will lead us up and out to the old resort complex and bids us farewell.

The resort complex itself is old. The design is Victorian, with a slightly haunted-house feel to it. The architecture reminds me of a castle. We are preparing to leave, but I look down the hill and see that there is an entire town full of people at the base of the resort ridge. My friends want to go home but I decide that I will go and explore. When I reach the bottom I encounter a strange building. It is less than a story high and long like a wall or barrier rather than a building. There are small trees planted along the side, with paths winding back to unseeable "entrances." I find a grate that is glowing green. Being the only visible opening in this strange building, I bend down to inspect. I open the grate and the green light is blinding. I am unable to pass through and creepy old lady fingers are poking out of the edges. My friend reappears and tells me that this is the Witches' door. He leads me to the proper door and we enter what appears to be a pawn shop. The inside is the same as parts of the caves: gray stone carved into huge blocks. He knows the store owner and they have a conversation while I explore the wares. They're all old and brassy, and look like they're from the early 1900's.

My friend leads me to a few other places in the town. The streets are cobblestone and all of the buildings are the same as the first: long, low, winding and with few visible entrances. There are people about, wandering the streets in and out of sight. It starts to get late and my friend starts leading me back toward the resort. I want to stay, but know intuitively that it's time to go. As he leads me to the front entrance of the resort where I came in, I ask him to come with me. He says that he can't that he must stay here. I get the impression that leaving is impossible for him. I'm sad to go, sad to leave him, but I know that I must.