by Joe Stanley
part 4
He cranked the winch and the stone rose much easier than it had with block and tackle. He locked it in place and checked it again. It wouldn’t do for it to come down. As he walked around to the stairs, he almost expected to find him there. But nothing…
The stairs lead him down, and he stood where Jaymes had stood. He stared back up to where he had stood before. It seemed so long ago. When he turned and descended, a sight awaited his lamplight. The shell of his partner, his brother, slumped against the wall. Now it was but so much lifeless leather wrapped around bones.
He stood for a moment, half expecting it to come to life. Beside it, a pile of skulls stared up from the floor, and above them a message had been left. There, on the soft gray wall, was scrawled in dark letters…
“Smythe,” it read, and an arrow pointed to the left.
“Poor man,” said Smythe, “Oh, my poor brother, you brought it on yourself.”
But as he turned, he noticed the floor was strewn with shattered bones. “Lost your mind, no doubt…” He crept carefully along until he reached the corner. He could remember Jaymes disappearing around it. Another step brought another pile of skulls and another message into view.
“I ate the dead,” it confessed, and an arrow pointed to the right.
“God,” shuddered Smythe, but he pushed on, with countless bones scattered by his steps. He chuckled, “If that will do you’ve had enough to last. But water, that would be your problem!” The next pile of skulls sat below the message… a question…
“Why did you kill me, brother?” it asked, and an arrow pointed to the right.
“To save myself, damn you!” he thundered into the dark. Every coffin seemed to have been spilled. He gave up his attempt to step lightly and crushed the bones beneath his feet. His fury was growing still when the next pile of skulls came into view, but its question stopped him cold.
“Why did you kill her?” it demanded, and an arrow pointed to the right.
“No,” Smythe shook his head, “No, you can’t know that! A lucky guess, a delusion, a visit from her ghost, what does it matter?” His rage flared back and he kicked the skulls down the hall. They clattered against the walls and rattled together in the darkness. His anger drove him on to the final pile of skulls.
“Treasure” it promised, and an arrow pointed to the left.
Here the bones were so deep that he stumbled. They tangled around his feet and he fell. By some luck, the lantern didn’t go out. As he pushed himself up one of the bones caught his eye. He saw the marks left on it, scratches made by teeth.
He felt sick… and sorry.
But to his ears a sound made itself known. It was a familiar sound but it took him a moment to realize what it was and what it meant. “NO!” he screamed and scrambled up and on. He could have followed it with no light at all, but he had to see it to believe that it was real.
There, ahead, a steady dripping left the floor wet. But his concerns were forgotten at once. Scattered and twinkling like countless stars on the slimy floor, was the accumulated wealth of the catacombs. He howled and cheered and stuffed his pouches with everything he found. And chuckling, he turned and traced his way back.
“Jaymes, you crazy fool!” he laughed, as he looked down at his brother, “I’m sorry it had to be this way. I’ll thank you very much for collecting this for me. Indeed, I’ll thank you when we meet again in Hell.”
“One last thing,” he said, and stopped to scratch his name off the wall below the stairs. When his knife had done its work, he could no longer read it. He smiled but the voice that came from above him stripped it from his face.
It was more of a growl, or like swamp gas bubbling up from the muck.
“Smythe…” it cried, “Oh Smythe… Come quickly!”
“Who’s there? Jaymes?” came his faint response.
“Up here!” it called again, “Best hurry!”
He scrambled up the stairs pleading, “Jaymes! No! Please! I…” but at the top of the stairs, there was no one. He stopped, dumbstruck. Then the stone fell, sealing him in. After some minutes of screaming and futile struggle to lift the stone, he turned and walked down the steps. There, on the wall, a new message waited.
“Eat,” it offered, and an arrow pointed down to the corpse of Jaymes.
-end-
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.