Inside the crypt, Oscar and Manius stood silently, listening as the ruckus gradually died down. They could still hear the occasional shrieking and click-clacking of the possessed beings’ feet on the floor.

“Lights off,” Oscar whispered.

They turned off their lights and listened.

“I don’t hear the others,” Manius said.

“It’s obvious they’ve abandoned us.”

“What do we do?”

Oscar tiptoed across the room, looking up to ceiling. “Someone has been alerted to our presence.”

“Who?”

“If my suspicions are correct—”

“If?”

“It’s the work of Hexorism, the old religion,” Oscar said.

“Hexorism?”

“Indeed. Based on my research, their tribes covered every corner of the old world.”

Manius sidled along the wall towards him, cautiously eyeing the ceiling. His shirt collar felt damp against the back of his neck, his limbs covered in goosebumps despite the muggy atmosphere. He could hear the scattered echoes from down in there, scathing over him and making his hairs stand on end. “Were they known to be violent?”

“Only when threatened, supposedly,” Oscar said.

Manius clung to Oscar’s sleeves. “Tell me you know more than this,” he whispered irately.

“Shh…this is why we’re here, to learn, my boy.”

“With respect, Oscar, we are trapped in here with little hope of leaving with our hides. Forgive my reluctance to take part in lecture!”

“They were sorcerous beings,” Val Hagen said, running his hands over some of the carvings and diagrams on the wall. “Little is known of the source of their powers. Perhaps something more lies in these ruins.”

“Sir, it appears you’ve inhaled too much ancient dust for a day. We must get out of here.”

Oscar pulled out his camera and shined his light over a section of the wall. He took a quick photograph of the foreign markings and shut off the light. “The air here gives you a sense of life back then—much richer than this Gesnian air.”

A few loose bricks dropped from above, landing beside Manius.

“Sir, have you got everything?”

“I suppose. Come, let’s find a way out.” Oscar walked over to one of the eroded ladders against the wall and started climbing up.

“What are you…?”

“Stay close, Manius. When we reach the top we’ll have lost our cover.”

Manius reluctantly stepped up the rickey ladder, gingerly gripping the sides as he stepped. With every few steps up the creaky rungs he saw the dreary graves in the walls, whose shallowed crevasses housed various relics and coffins. Oscar stopped a few feet below the ceiling and shoved his foot into a nearby nook, arching to pull himself up and out. He rolled up onto the upper level as quietly as he could, and scouted the chamber. The settling dust drifted between the scattered beams of the diggers’ abandoned flashlights. He didn’t hear or see anything.

“Psst, Manius. I think we’re in the clear. Grab my hand.”

Manius reached the top, and with Oscar’s assistance, climbed back onto the main floor. Oscar got up and traipsed around the hollow chamber, stepping around the lights to shroud himself.

“What’re you doing?” Manius whispered.

Oscar felt around the pillars and walls, doing some last-minute searching. His hand fell across the wall into a gap. He took out his cell phone and turned it on, softly lighting the empty nook. A battered old copper box rested within, surrounded by corroded chips and flakes of the tinny substance. He shut the box, noticing a string of unusual text over the lid. A shuddering off in the distance drew him away.

“Oscar, come on.”

Oscar quickly snapped a picture on his phone and tiptoed over to Manius. He rolled his foot on something and leaned down to pick up the object. With no time to inspect it due to the cringe-worthy wailing from the possessed skeletons approaching, he shoved the item in his belt and began untying the rope from one of the pillars.

“They’re coming,” Manius said, hurrying from the doorway.

“We can’t go through the front. Manny, give me your pack. Hurry.” Manius removed the cargo sack and hefted it onto the floor, then Oscar started tying the rope around it. With a grunt, he heaved the pack out one of the rectangular windows above. The pack fell out the hole, pulling the rope alongside him. He yanked the rope until taut, and headed towards the wall. Manius watched him slowly climb up the side of the wall, straining to keep his feet firmly planted to the bricks. “Be ready to follow,” Oscar said.

Manius looked behind, catching a glimpse of the haunting ghouls’ shadows creeping along the walls. Without saying anything he snatched the rope and leapt up to the wall, planting himself at an angle. His hands already burned from gripping the rope to keep himself aloft while tenaciously climbing up to the window. Oscar hit the ground outside, and tugged the other end to hasten Manius’ exit.

“That’s the way. Just dive out, now.”

Manius couldn’t turn around after reaching the window, but heard the sharp cries of the monsters stomping in his direction. With a yelp he slipped through the cracked hole and landed down next to Oscar.

“Good show, my boy. Let’s move!”

The two fatiguing men dashed through the clearing into the jungle, not even taking time to retrieve their gunnysacks.

* * * * *

Gunnar Starkey poured himself a shot of whiskey and handed the bottle to one of the others. He walked around the tiled flooring of the spacious RV back at the basecamp, hitched up in a clearing by the lake. Despite the quietude of the late night hours, a lot of noise came from different areas of the mobile research unit. He walked over to Heidi, busy uploading some camera files to a computer. “What’d you find?”

“Only a few shots of the walls,” she replied.

“What’s that there?” Gunnar said, pointing to the screen.

“One of the murals in the tunnel, but it’s too blurry to make out.”

“For God’s sake, I’m surprised we got away with anything after what just happened.”

“You think Val Hagen knew about those things?” another guy said.

“Oscar’s knowledge is admirable,” Gunnar said, “but I doubt even he could’ve seen that coming.”

“You think he survived?”

Starkey shook his head. “If he did, he’ll be back. Unfortunately, he’s the project leader on this excursion.”

“What does that mean for the project then?” Heidi said.

“What do you mean?”

“Without him here, there’s really not much more we can do. Like you said, this was his idea.”

“Yeah,” the guy said, taking a sip of beer, “it’s not like all of us are here to make whatever dream he had come true. If money grew on trees I wouldn’t be wastin’ my time here with these…whatever the hell those things are supposed to be.”

“These things could very well be a vital link to uncovering a civilization that lived in a world before this one. We could be sitting on a major breakthrough. That’s why Oscar was so adamant on coming to this continent.”

Heidi opened a file folder of images. “He’s right, these markings are unlike anything I’ve ever read about. Just look at how these symbols are written, so overtly representative. They’re basic shapes, but it’s like they’re drawn that way to confuse us or something.”

“Besides, Hanson, you’re an archaeologist too! Doesn’t this intrigue you in the slightest?” Gunnar said.

“Maybe, but I’ve never been attacked by zombies while digging for bones, either.” He set down his bottle and rolled up his sleeves. “I gotta say, it does kind of draw you in, but what can we do with all this research without Val Hagen? He’s the only one who had a clue as to what he was doing.”

“I propose for now we continue with our findings, and hope that Oscar comes back. If he’s not back by this time tomorrow we’ll have to put this project on the back burner,” Starkey said.

“What was he planning to do with this stuff anyway?” Hanson said. “What’s his end game?”

“To reveal one’s strategy before victory is a fool’s game!” a voice called from behind.

They turned around to the door, where Oscar and Manius came shuffling toward them.

“Oscar?” Starkey said.

“Are we admiring a painting, or doing research here?” Oscar said with a huffy laugh.

“Very well, but how did you get out? We feared the worst.”

Oscar grabbed a couple water bottles from the refrigerator, and handed one to Manius. “Unfortunately this particular chess game has resulted in a stalemate.”

“Why can’t you ever say what you mean?” Hanson said jokingly.

Oscar sat in a chair next to Heidi. “We had answers under our noses, Hanson! Our unexpected visit has disturbed the locals.”

“What locals?” Starkey said.

Oscar took out his cell phone and thumbed through some photos, then handed his camera card to Heidi. “If you would be so kind to upload these, my dear? Now then, look at this, gentlemen. I found these in the crypt.”

“It’s pretty vague,” Hanson said, “can you adjust the brightness?”

“Even with the little light I had, I recognized these markings.” Oscar took out his worn-out notebook, lined with fabric placeholders and dog-eared pages. “I’m getting closer.”

“To what?” Heidi said.

“According to my liaison, this is in fact a resting place for ancient Hexorists.”

“Hexorists?”

“Seven years ago, during a dig in the mountains of Norsden, I uncovered a handful of strange artifacts. They were completely unfamiliar to me.”

“Wow, and you’re one of the biggest names out there,” Hanson said, a bit mockingly.

“I sought to uncover the origins of these relics. Only one book I could find gave some tidbits of information, and even they were vague.”

“What’d you find out?” Heidi said.

“While these particular pieces aren’t native to my home country, I decided to explore other regions of Eupharia. One day I met an intriguing man wearing a distinct ring with similar markings as the ones on this page.”

They looked over the mystifying characters scribbled across the page.

“What did they mean?” Starkey said.

“The inscription on his ring said: Six sides to the point, one path to the soul.”

“Wow,” Heidi said.

“And that’s what this says here?” Hanson said.

“Indeed,” Oscar replied.

“What does this mean though?” Starkey said.

“I’ve only a few pieces to the puzzle. The man explained his ancestors were descendants of a volatile race of people…Hexorists, they were called.”

Heidi gasped. “Wait, could that explain those skeletons back there?”

“It’s evident that whoever these people are, they haven’t taken kindly to our presence,” Oscar said.

They fell silent for a while, each of them glancing at the cryptic images on the computer and in the notebook.

“If that’s the case, what’re they so angry about?” Hanson said.

“Isn’t it obvious? They’re protecting something in there, something they don’t want us to get our hands on.” Oscar reached around his waist, and started fidgeting nervously.

“What’s wrong?” Starkey said.

“It’s gone—I found an odd relic before I left. Blast, I must’ve dropped the damn thing! Hopefully it’ll still be there.”

“What’re you saying?” Heidi said, tugging her collar.

Oscar slapped down his hat. “Our expedition is not over, my dear. We’re going back.”