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One Thousand Two Hundred Feet Long Who Draws PicturesMystery & Supernatural33k Wordsongoing I was twelve years old and the youngest slave in the mine. When the cave collapsed for the fourth time, a mouth opened in the rock wall, and a hand protruded from it. It gave me a stone. The bones are white, with seven lines carved on them. Manager Zhao's hands kept shaking when he saw the stone. Not because of fear. It's because I have a bunch of white hair growing on the back of my head. He drove me out of the mine overnight and said only eight words: "Deep down, things are alive." 0Votes1Recs0Fans