Twenty meters beneath the city of Paris lie the bones of six million skeletons. Six million people, each with his own untold story. When the bones were moved from the cemeteries into the catacombs, these people not only lost their identity but the details of the lives they had lived. Walking through the catacombs, I was in awe of the piles of bones lining each wall. These skulls in particular caught my attention. Who were they? How did they die? The leftmost skull is badly broken. Was it a fatal blow, or some unfortunate accident occurring years later by some clumsy Parisian. I can’t help but wonder: did they know each other when they were alive? Or have they been condemned to spend their final resting place next to a total stranger? Unfortunately, today’s technology is unable to answer these questions. Yet, I ask these questions hoping one day the mystery shrouding the bones can be lifted. As written on the entrance to the catacombs, “Arrète! C’Est ici l’empire de la mort” and if one is to enter the Empire of Death, she has to investigate.