#10 The Crypt

I panned the flashlight back and forth across the ancient chamber. Dust motes floated about so thickly I could not see more than ten or twelve feet ahead.

"No one's stepped foot into this chamber since they sealed it," I said.

My assistant, Marisa nodded her head in agreement. She held a cloth over her nose and mouth as a shield to the dust. She stepped forward into the crypt illuminating objects with her own lantern.

Once we opened the crypt door, I sent the other three men on the team out of the tunnels to base camp. We needed additional tools and instruments that we dared not carry into the tunnels unless we had a reason to use them.

I caught up to Marisa and tapped her shoulder. I pointed to my watch. She nodded and inspected her own watch. "I was just thinking about that," she said. "Where's our team with the gear?"
They had been gone for too long but I didn't want Marisa to panic. "They probably forgot something and had to double back. No worries. Let's take a closer look at that sarcophagus."

Marisa's passion for archeology overode her fear of what lay in a 3500 year old tomb. We pressed deeper into the chamber and came upon the resting place of the ancient ruler of the river valley. We ran our lights over the lid, mouths dropped open in horror. The sarcophagus lay open! Strips of the bindings that once wrapped the mighty man-deity were all that remained.

"His final resting place is defiled!" Marisa yelled. "Who could do such a thing?"

"We didn't see any signs of disturbance in the outer tunnels," I said. "They must've looted the tomb years ago, at least."

"There's something else in that corner," Marisa said. "Come."

We walked into the deeper shadows in the back of the crypt. The ceiling was lower here and there appeared to be a hole in the wall near the floor. Our flashlights finally illuminated the truth. A pile of human bones and shreds of clothing.

That's when the scraping sound behind us started. Uneven and gaining in volume, something shambled into the room.

"Collins? Simpson? Finch?" None of our comrades answered. Silence but for the scraping. Then the gutteral, echoing rumble. A parody of a human voice filled the chamber. Finally, the unmistakable sound of measured laughter.