The Monastery

An old monk is recounting his life to his nieces and nephews who lived in a small, rural town. The area around was hilly, and at the bottom of a nearby valley, there was a large, ornate monastery.

"Uncle, why did you become a monk?" the youngest asked

"One day, I was riding my bicycle home from school, and passed through the valley. I picked up too much speed, and lost control just outside of the monastery. I broke my arm, the bone protruding through the skin. I began to cry, and a monk emerged from the monastery to bring me inside.

'I want to go to the hospital' I said

The monk replied 'There is no need. It is getting dark and we are trained in the secret healing arts of our order. We will send word to your parents and you will stay the night with us.'

During that night, I awoke to a strange, ethereal sound coming from somewhere in the monastery. I thought it was a dream, and went back to sleep. In the morning, my arm was completely healed. I asked the monk from the night before what made the sound. The monk responded:

'I cannot tell you, you are not a monk.'

Years later, just after high school, I was riding a motorcycle down the same valley. A passing car came too close and clipped me, sending me flying into the ditch. I passed out from the pain of my injuries, I couldn't breathe and thought I was going to die. As my vision faded, I saw a monk running towards me.

I woke up that night, sore, but alive - to the same sound as before. Naturally, I picked myself up - it seemed impossible but I grew stronger and more resilient every time I heard that sound. The sound grew slightly louder, and I followed it to an old door in the basement of the monastery. I pressed my ear against it. The sound was coming from within, but still distant even though I seemed so close.

'You need a key'

I jumped. I asked the monk who had appeared behind me, again, what was making the sound. He simply replied:

'I cannot tell you, you are not a monk'

I simply had to find out. I asked how to become a monk. I was told it meant I could not marry, or have children, and it would take years of study, some in silence, and I would live a pious life in peace if I were to become part of their order. I agreed. I spent years in silence, years copying texts, making wine. I paid my dues. I spent half my life learning to become part of the Order. One day they said I was ready. I was taken to the door and given a ring of keys.

The simple iron key fit into the lock on the wooden door. Behind the door was a path, leading down into the earth, like a tunnel. it was made of stone. As I made my way down the path, the sound became louder, and the air got warmer. I came to an iron door with a silver lock. The next tunnel was a steeper descent, and made entirely of iron. I came to another door, this time silver, with a gold lock. I used the golden key, and found a small opening just enough to crouch and crawl on my hands and knees. This tunnel was made of what I thought was silver. I did not need a torch, as light seemed to emanate from the air itself, now almost hot, humid. The sound was loud, I felt I was inside some intricate machine, but with a smell like fresh earth and blood. I got to a small door, made of gold, with a lock made of bone. I used a key made of what I could only assume was bone, and opened it.

beyond that final door I entered a massive, subterranean chamber, walls encrusted with all manner of crystals. The floor was earth, but littered with various bones. Some looked human. In the middle of the chamber, propped up on a platform made of all manner of skulls, was the source of the sound."

There was a long pause before the youngest asked

"Uncle... what was it?"

"I cannot tell you, you are not a monk."