Catacombs are subterranean passageways used for religious practice. In modern times they house the homeless, in wartime they act as refuges, and in novels, they're used for hidden treasures, cult meetings and sinister events. Many are under the streets of huge cities, like Paris and Rome, and they all have grisly histories that can be used as layers in your story.
I visited the Paris catacombs as inspiration for my religious thriller novel Prophecy. The corridors stretch for kilometers underground and contain nearly six million skeletons. The bodies were moved from public cemeteries at the end of the eighteenth century to stop the spread of disease from the overflowing mass graves. The dead were brought to the catacombs at night in order to save the people of Paris from the disturbing scenes. But there were the inevitable rumors of grave-robbers, the dead rising as zombies, and the hand of Satan hovering over the city.
My overwhelming sense at the catacombs was that the skeletons had been witnesses to life but they had passed on. They were architecture now, forgotten individuals, but together they became a fitting memorial for the deaths of unknown millions in the Black Death and the poorhouses of Paris.
In PROPHECY, the theme of bones and death is pervasive and I use crypts and ossuaries as well as catacombs for scenes in the book. In the examples below, I use text from PROPHECY to fill in the categories of the setting thesaurus.
Example 1 from Paris catacomb: “A multitude of bodies locked together in death, fitting perfectly like one enormous body. Skulls in decorative arches and rows broke up the pattern. Some had holes in them, some cracked and others smooth. All had the dull patina of age and they seemed to be cemented together, as if they had sunk into each other after years of standing here, sentinels to death.”
Example 2 from Palermo crypt: “The bodies exhibited here were fully dressed, some just skulls and others with brown skin stretched around screaming heads like mummified horrors. The bodies were stacked two levels high, hung on hooks to keep them stable in a minstrel’s gallery of mortality. Their clothes were mainly in tatters now, but Morgan could see that they were once fine fabrics with trimmings of lace and fur. She looked more closely at one of the mummies. His teeth were bared in a grimace, lips shrunken back. His eyelashes still lay upon leathery cheeks. He had been posed as if at prayer, in a tribute to the God he expected to meet.”
|Sedlec Crypt Bone Chandelier|
The lack of sound was the notable aspect in the deserted catacombs. Dripping water was the only noise. There was no city noise that penetrated this deep.
“She could hear the dull thwack of water dripping from a low ceiling nearby. Morgan listened intently. In the distance, she could hear voices muted by the heavy air.”
The ancient dead don’t smell and the earth has a clean scent. Certainly not unpleasant, more like a cave.
“Her fingers dug into the dirt. It smelled like peat, earthy and pleasant.”
Example 1 from Paris catacombs: “Her fingers brushed a cold wall and she moved to face it in the dark. She traced the ridged surface. It felt hard like concrete but the texture was unusual, a repeating pattern of knobs and notches with smooth patches between. She used the wall to pull herself up and then felt along the top of it. There was a gap so she reached an arm out, touching a pile of debris that lay on top. It was spiky in parts, with irregular shapes and some loose pieces. Picking one up, Morgan ran her other hand over the object. As she felt its smooth length with a ball on one end and scalloped notches on the other, she realized it was a human femur. Fighting the urge to drop it, she focused on the cool of the bone she held. After all, the dead couldn’t hurt her. The dead didn’t drug her and leave her here in the cold. This femur could be a weapon, a makeshift baseball bat.”
Example 2 from Palermo crypt: “She could feel the hard cold flagstones through her jeans and she shivered, and not just with the cold. This place was beginning to get to her. It had echoes of the past hiding in dark corners, nightmares of little children locked down here, their flesh decomposing over centuries. Perhaps it was unnatural, the way the physical bodies had remained so long after the soul had departed. It felt like Death’s trophy case, with bodies stolen from a world of light and life above.”
If you aren't able to visit the places you want to write about, I recommend using Flickr.com to write from photos as well as the official websites you find. Flickr photos are more natural and often show detail you wouldn't find out about any other way.
Pentecost and Prophecy.
Joanna’s site TheCreativePenn.com helps people write, publish and market their books and has been voted one of the Top 10 Blogs for Writers 2 years running. You can follow Joanna on twitter @thecreativepenn
Images: Flickr Creative Commons - Catacombs my own, Sedlec ossuary MilanBoers