#pariscatacombs

[jcams88]

Last day in Paris was a perfect end to a perfect trip 💙🤍❤️ . . . #paris #photodump #parisphotodump #parisfrance #france #pariscatacombs #catacombs #carette #carettehotchoclate #eiffeltower #rivercruise https://www.instagram.com/p/ClKN5TlN3b1/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[bucketlisttourguide]

Some pics of the #catacombs of #paris #france from our Nov 2022 #tour. Is #parisfrance on your #travel and #vacation #bucketlist ? #pariscatacombs #skulls #bones (at Catacombs of Paris) https://www.instagram.com/p/ClG2lURuisl/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[writersramble37]

Paris catacombs…for any writers out there writing something creepy! #pariscatacombs https://www.instagram.com/p/CTI3JnjlAWX/?utm_medium=tumblr

[hihiyas]

#howltober prompt 2: #underground I found a cool photo of the #pariscatacombs and decided that’s a spooky enough thing to draw for #howltober2020 #artchallenge #inktober2020 #inktober #digitalart #hiyastriestodrawagain https://www.instagram.com/p/CF3V1i3H5y-/?igshid=4rehppdyf29m

[publicdomainreview]

Images from our new essay "Photographing the Dark: Nadar’s Descent into the Paris Catacombs" by Allison C. Meier.⠀ ⠀ Today the Paris Catacombs are illuminated by electric lights and friendly guides. But when Félix Nadar descended into this “empire of death” in the 1860s artificial lighting was still in its infancy: the pioneering photographer had to face the quandary of how to take photographs in the subterranean dark. Allison C. Meier explores Nadar’s determined efforts (which involved Bunsen batteries, mannequins, and a good deal of patience) to document the beauty and terror of this realm of the dead.⠀ .⠀ .⠀ Click link in bio to read the essay and see lots more of Nadar's subterranean photographs.⠀ .⠀ .⠀ #pariscatacombs #nadar #photography #skulls #skeletons #death #paris https://www.instagram.com/p/B4IanS6nXxV/?igshid=g8o0vil4zu3h

[james-mathurin]

#happyhalloween ! Enjoy some suitably macabre photos from #pariscatacombs ! #paris #catacombs #photography #skull #bones #dark #creepy (at Les Catacombes de Paris) https://www.instagram.com/p/CG_yhyKBVVz/?igshid=1j504co75lh4y

[moradach]

Another great book DONE. The sequel to City of Ghosts. Just amazing. 🥰 Thanks for another great book, @veschwab Thank you for the great read. #bookstagram #Book #Books #bookstagrammer #ghost #ghoststories #read #readersofinstagram #cityofghosts #tunnelofbones #paris #parisfrance #pariscatacombs #catacombsofparis #catacombs (at Dallas, Texas) https://www.instagram.com/p/B4qwdIFnTn4/?igshid=1arf7detm468b

[opal-peridot]

Drawlloween Day 2: Catacombs. I used a reference of the real Paris Catacombs but made the colors cuter! #drawlloween2019 #mabsdrawlloweenclub #catacombs #pariscatacombs #heart #kawaii skulls #inktober #penandink #marker https://www.instagram.com/p/B3HiKdEl8GC/?igshid=ias9k0o61wd0

[hauntspots]

Our next episode we dive deep into the Paris Catacombs.

[sebastiannordanvind]

[damienblackshaw]

Not somewhere you want to go if you either get claustrophobia or creeped out by walking amongst the bones of 6 million Parisians. Interesting though... (at Les Catacombes de Paris)

[tarotcardreaderangelalucy]

Saturday night in Westbury, New York was anything but dull! A last minute Sweet 16 Tarot Party not only included Tarot readings for all the guests, but allowed us all to contact not ONE, but TWO spirits with the help of the Birthday Girl herself and my iOvilus App. Communications from the other side recorded and shown here. Thanks for including me Kelly and Bridget! And thanks to our two “out of town guests” for attending! 🔮🃏😎👻 #sweet16party #westburynewyork #tarotcardreaderangelalucy #sweet16tarotparty #sweet16tarotreadingparty #ghosts #contactingspirits #iovilus #pariscatacombs (at Westbury, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/CMIolgJHwKB/?igshid=17und45zl5xx7

[jedialexkylorey-blog]

The Catacombs - Short Story

My breath began to escape me as I quickly realized the full extent of my situation. The claustrophobic tunnels felt like they were moving in on me, sucking out all of the oxygen in the world. The rock walls felt moist and cold, reminding me of the lack of sunlight that I had been deprived of for the past six hours. I glanced down at my Fitbit, it read to be almost midnight, however, you would never be able to tell down here. The Paris Catacombs are notorious for its eerie history and is frequently a site for tourism. Why I accepted to venture into the historical “Empire of Death” is beyond me. I am frightened by most anything, so this is most certainly a death wish, especially since the adventure would be seven hours.

I began to walk faster so I could catch up with tourists ahead of me. I glanced over to see if they were friendly enough to speak to. The tallest guy in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts was most certainly American, so I decided I would try to make a friend in this death maze.

“You’d think we’d have seen enough human remains after six hours of walking.” The American just kept walking forward, as if I hadn’t just tried to strike up a conversation with him. I cleared my throat. No response. I began to slow down so I wasn’t walking next to this guy anymore. Suddenly I fell to the solid ground screaming. I immediately realized I wasn’t in control of my body when my arms and legs began flailing violently. A sharp, piercing screech rang in my ears, causing me to vomit all over myself. I began to fight against the force placed on my entire body, burning tears beginning to invade my eyes. I tried to scream, but nothing came out, only dead air. It took everything in me to strain my eyes to see the tourists I was just with not only 5 seconds ago. My heart dropped into my stomach when I discovered they were gone. Not even a scuff on the ground was left from the large group. My throat began to tighten and suffocate me, not allowing for a breath of stale air. I began to see spots clouding my vision, and life abandon my body when suddenly I regained control.

I rolled over on my side and began to cry. I pushed myself up on shaky arms and quickly held on to the wall for balance. I wiped the tears from my eyes and grabbed at my throat, desperately trying to find air to breathe.

“Wha the hel-” I hopelessly tried to utter, but all that came out was fractured weezing. I looked around for any signs of people. I began to limp forward to search for the group previously in front of me. I gradually gained speed and saw a person turn a dark corner. I tried to scream but instead began to choke. I saw the group of men I tried to speak to and threw my body at them. Rather than smacking into solid bodies, I felt my head slam into the rock floor. My hand twitched, and my eyes slowly turned to black as I felt blood pour from my forehead.

Blinding white light burned my senses as I slowly became sentient. A violent headache turned my vision into a hellish carousel. “WhaAERE am Iii?” My mouth tasted of silver and cotton. Suddenly, a figure began to shape into view next to me. I realized that the person had been trying to communicate with me for a while now. A piercing ring still buzzed in my ear.

“Sir. Sir, it's alright. You’re okay now. You’re being taken care of.” The voice belonged to a middle-aged, dark-haired, doctor. I couldn’t speak, but let him explain to me what was going on. “You had a nasty convulsion on your tour of the catacombs, I'm sorry to say. You were found twelve hours after you passed out on the floor of the tunnels. A trip into the catacombs alone is very dangerous sir and is highly advised against. You are very lucky to be alive.”

I was perplexed. What the doctor just told me to hurt my head. Alone? Did he say I was alone because I wasn’t, I was with a group?

“I wassn’t allonne.” The sentence tumbled out in a delirium. The doctor stared hard as if mentally diagnosing me.

“Records of the catacombs are acutely calculated with each and every tourist and is updated every hour to keep track of the capacity. For the seven-hour deep catacomb excursion, the only name listed is yours. No one else.”

I began to shrink. I spoke to someone down there, I knew I did.

“However, we did recover your camera and look through the photos you took, sorry for the lack of permission, and we did find this particular image of interest.

I pulled my head down to grasp the image on the camera. The wind was knocked out of me when I realized that in the picture taken during the trip, three men appeared at the turn of a tunnel. The tallest I recognized, the Hawaiian Shirt Guy. I moaned, trying to shout that I spoke to them, that they were on the tour, that I threw my body at them, but the doctor shrugged.

“No worries sir, we’ll fix you right up in no time. The mental ward is an esteemed medical treatment wing in our facility. We’ll be glad to admit you.”

I was confused. Mental Ward? Me? Just because I saw men in the tunnels, and I have proof they appeared in the photo? But then I realized that I had been screaming bloody murder for the past couple minutes. Clawing at my throat and eyes, lashing out at the doctor.

“THEY WERE THERE. I knOWW THEy Y WHErE!!” The doctor restrained my arms as two nurses strapped them down to the bed. Blood filled my mouth as I discovered I bit my tongue. The doctor showed me the photograph once more.

“Sir, I don’t know what you’re seeing, but there are no men in this photo, only writing and blood.”

I looked at the picture again, expecting to see the men when this time seeing something truly horrific. Dark red blood carefully painted on the wall as if on a canvas. A slashed wrist exposed in the photo seemed to be the source of the blood. The writing on the wall was expressed as such, “They are here, they will avenge, they will kill.” Terrified to understand what was happening, I looked down at my left arm only to discover a long bandage vertically placed with care.

“NOOOooOoOoOoooOOOOOO.” I shrieked as the nurses wheeled me down the hall. I thrashed my legs and chest, screaming for someone to help me. I opened my eyes and scanned the rooms. For a fleeting moment I stopped everything, I slowly looked to my right and saw a tall man in a Hawaiian shirt smiling. Laughing at me, and just standing there, like an Angel of Death. One tear slid down my cheek. I blinked, and he was gone, but his smile burned in my head forever. The nurses wheeled me away to my fate.         

[missingdimensionclub]

Imagine getting lost inside. 👉👉Swipe for paranormal story. I visited in 2019, didn’t sense any spirits not at peace because everyone believed they had passed on, but I got a heavy psychometric vision when touching the walls. At that time, I didn’t know much about how the catacombs were created and so I was surprised by my impression. Slavery, chains and mining filled my head along with songs that people sung digging out the mines. Later on, I read they were limestone quarries underground in Roman times. The public part of the catacombs was a maze of skulls, temples, carvings in the walls, altars and offerings. I went down with a massive group of people, maybe 30, and during the self guided tour we all seemed to be separated immediately and I found myself alone, listening to the drop amongst cracked skulls and footsteps. Would not visit again. . . . . . . . . . Sry 4 tag . . . . #pariscatacombs #psychic #psychometry #catacombs #paris #paranormal #jezebel #paranormalstories #death #haunting #haunted #ghoststories #ghosts (at Les Catacombes de Paris) https://www.instagram.com/p/CEFerwGnE-e/?igshid=9eux9e15wf5x

[darkwoodjewelry]

Stop! Here lies the Empire of Death! www.etsy.com/shop/DarkwoodJewelry #paris #catacombs #ossuaire #ossuary #pariscatacombs #death #skull #bones #restinpeace #gloomy #creepy #empireofdeath #spirits #cemetery #catacombesdeparis #mementomori #dark #darkart #darkness #blackmetal

[themidnighttrainpodcast]

Our latest episode, The Paris Catacombs, is now available wherever you listen to podcasts. Just find the search bar and type in THE MIDNIGHT TRAIN PODCAST #pariscatacombs https://www.instagram.com/p/B-9mezKJpR7/?igshid=1w77p167in8zv