Just cause its nice to have a back up: Here is a story I'm working on.
It's not even close to finished, but I'll add updates when I get them done.
Chapter 1
Rain dripped down the nape of his neck, sending shivers down his back. Bryce Riley Marshall (the third) had been sitting in the same spot for an hour now, the last 30 minutes of it being soaked by the downpour of rain, trying to be very still while watching the entrance of the ancient tomb. He had found a little rock out cropping, just large enough for his athletic body to squeeze into, to hide out and wait for the archaeologists to leave. He had a good view of the tomb entrance, but he doubted very much they would be able to see him. The rain would help with that as well. He wore non-descript shirt and pants, all in brownish earth tones to blend in with the desert, a black leather holster slug over his shoulders-resting next to his ribs complete with a Smith and Wesson .45 that was fully loaded and ready to fire. He thought about the archeologists inside, wondering what could be taking them so long. It was well past dark, and the torches inside wouldn’t be very effective in lighting up the tomb with out the natural sunlight to help.
They were here to study, he was here to rob, but Bryce had grown tired of robbing ancient tombs, and the killing that usually went along with it. This time, upon discovering that the tomb was still being studied, he decided to wait until it was clear. It would be easier; he told himself for the millionth time; get in and get out. No mess. No bodies to hide. Grab the treasure and go. He was repeating this mantra over and over in his head when they appeared at the entrance of the tomb. Talking excitedly, a group of 4 archaeologists came streaming out of the cave like structure, completely oblivious to the rain and the dangerous man hidden in it. They made their way to their camp, a small cluster of white tents that didn’t look like they would provide much shelter from the penetrating rain, not bothering to avoid the mud. Boyce waited, the rain continuing to fall in huge fat drops, soaking thru his oiled leather jacket, sending shivers down his spine that he fought hard to repress. Finally, when the camp seemed to have gotten quiet, he snuck quietly to the entrance of the tomb.
It took a minute for Bryce’s eyes to adjust to the gloom inside. It looked just like every other tomb he’d seen in the past 10 or so years of his ‘career’. Taking a small picture out of the breast pocket on his shirt, he took a long look at it and then scanned the room. Luckily, the archaeologists hadn’t removed anything, yet. He wouldn’t have to search the camp, meaning no contact with the scientists, no chance to have to take their lives needlessly. Seeing nothing but some broken pottery and ancient pictures painted on the walls, Bryce felt a moment of panic. He hadn’t seen anything being removed from the tomb, but what if they had snuck it out somehow? He relaxed as his eyes fell on a doorway further in the back of the room. It must be in there. Walking quickly, trusting his excellent night vision to help him not stumble over the uneven floor, he entered the next room and found it to be very similar to the first. This one contained a mummy, however, and it looked as if the archeologists had spent most of their time in here. The floor was covered with foot prints and shuffling marks, as if they had attempted to move the mummy. Bryce was getting nervous now. This was his last job. No one else knew that, but Bryce was sure, and he didn’t want to screw it up. His client, “Mr. Anonymous”, would not be pleased to hear that Bryce was unable to recover the treasure for him.
This room, although much like the first, did not have any other doorways. Frustrated, Bryce began to walk around the edge of the room. He felt along the cold rock walls, first along the north side, then the east, then the south. Along the west wall, his hands growing more frantic in their search, he felt something…..different. It was small, round, and smooth. A sharp contrast of the bumpy rock walls. He ran his palm over the object again; making sure it wasn’t just some polished part of the wall. Sure enough, while the wall was rough and cold, the object was smooth, and just slightly warm. As if it absorbed some of the heat from Bryce’s hands as they had come in contact with it. He smiled slyly in the dark, and pressed down on the smooth object. It sunk in and the wall which he was standing in front of shuddered, and then opened, revealing a small tunnel. Grinning again, Bryce, grabbed the flashlight from his coat pocket, and went thru the opening.
The tunnel had a low ceiling and when Bryce stretched his arms out to either side of him, he could place his palms flat against the walls. There was a musty smell that hung thick in the air, which made it more difficult for Bryce to draw a breath. Pushing forward, Bryce turned on his flashlight and the tunnel was suddenly bright. He blinked a few times to adjust before moving forward, again, careful not to trip. It wasn’t a long tunnel, only about 50 yards or so and Bryce could already see another chamber at the end. This one, although dark as the rest, appeared to have been undisturbed since it was sealed up however many hundreds of years ago. There was no mummy or pottery or paintings on the walls here; no foot prints in the sand. All that was in this little room was a low, blue/grey stone pillar, with a skeletal head and torso balanced on top. Hung around the skeletal neck on a thick, old chain was the treasure Bryce was after-the Dragon Pendant of Epliel. According to legend (and who ever believes those?!) this pendant once belonged to the God, Epliel, The Evil Unspeakable Devourer of Souls. The pendant was used in ancient ceremonies as a way to harvest the soul of the sacrifice, and feed it to the ever hungry Epliel. The pendant was shaped like a long, serpentine dragon, looped back on itself so it made a complete circle. It was about the size of the diameter of a coffee cup, green, with red ruby chips for eyes that picked up the light from Bryce’s flashlight, making them flash as if they were alive. Having retrieved many terrible treasures over the years made Bryce seem almost complacent. He’d handled lots of ancient items and none of them had ever hurt him or come back to haunt him. It just looked like a creepy dragon necklace to him. Carefully, so he didn’t disturb the ancient corpse (or partial corpse) Bryce reached out and gently pulled the necklace and pendant over the skull. The pendant was warm in his hand, like the entrance marker to the passage way had been, and it was heavy. A lot heavier than it looked at first. Trying not to think about where the heat may be coming from, Bryce placed the pendant in the deep pocket inside the breast of his coat and turned to head back down the tunnel. With any luck, the archeologists wouldn’t even know he had been there.
When he reached the entrance to the tunnel, he paused, locating the round, smooth disc-like part of the wall that had caused the door to open. Looking closely at it with the light from his flashlight, Bryce noticed it looked just like the rest of the wall. To the casual eye, it wouldn’t stand out at all. He toyed with the thought of leaving the door to the tunnel open for the archeologists, just to mess with them, but decided that it was better if they never even knew that it existed. Then they wouldn’t notice anything missing. He pressed the disc-like key again and the door closed, leaving no sign that there had ever been a door there at all. Happy with his find and feeling more exuberated than ever before, Bryce turned off his flashlight and turned to go back to the outer chamber of the tomb. “Don’t Move.” A high, soft voice came from the sudden dark. “What are you doing here?” Bryce steadied his breathing, and concentrated on where the voice was coming from. His eyes had not adjusted back to the dark since turning off his flashlight and he could only guess who was in front of him. One of the archaeologists to be sure, but how had she discovered he was here?
“Relax” he said. “I got lost in the dark and I found this cave. Or what I thought was a cave. I was just looking for a place to get out of the rain.”
“You were just wandering around the desert, in the dark, in the rain, and happened to stumble upon this ‘cave’ ” she said sarcastically, “Right. What are you really doing here?” This was going to be tricky, he thought. He figured she couldn’t see him any better than he could see her, so he very carefully and very quietly took a step towards her.
“Look” he said, trying not to sound threatening “I’m leaving okay? No harm, no foul.”
“Stop right there.” she sounded afraid now. Good, he thought to himself. Fear is an easy emotion to feed off of, and it can cloud a person’s judgment. She was blocking the doorway to the outer chamber and the only way out of the tomb. Carefully taking another step forward, Bryce was with in arms reach of her now. He could just make out some of her features. She was about average height, 5 foot 6 inch’s or so, shorter than him, and had long hair. The color of it was hard to determine in the gloom, but it seemed dark, like any light that hit it was immediately absorbed. She had a slight build, and she stood stiffly, evidence of her fear. He quietly drew his pistol and in one swift movement, he was behind her. He hit her once on the head with the butt of his gun, and as she crumpled, he caught her and laid her gently on the dirt floor.
“I am sorry about this, doll, but it’s better than the alternative.” He said in a whisper and then quietly made his way out of the tomb. The rain had stopped while he was inside, although he couldn’t have been in there more than a half an hour all together. The night was still dark, the remaining clouds covering the moon, and there was no other movement from the nearby camp. Bryce made his way past his previous hiding spot, and out into the desert, blending into the night.
It had been a long flight home and Bryce was exhausted. He unlocked the door to his second floor apartment, flipped on the lights and went in. His apartment was small; 1 bedroom, 1 bathroom, and a kitchen/living room area. It was cramped and cluttered with odds and ends he’d collected over the years but not what anyone would call un-clean. Books lined a wall to wall bookshelf and some sat in stacks around the living room. He had just a few pieces of furniture; an old brown leather lazy boy, a small 2 cushion couch, and a cheap pressed board entertainment center with a TV and stereo stragically placed in the appropriate cubby holes.
Shrugging out of his coat, he laid it across the back of the lazy boy and went to take a shower. He hadn’t stopped to rest since leaving the tomb, nervous that the archeologist he had hit would be able to identify him somehow, so he’d just hopped a plane as soon as possible, not even sleeping during the flight. He was exhausted and dirty. First things first, he thought. Shower. Then Bed. Then I can call “Mr. Anonomyse” and let him know his prize is here.
Bryce let the hot water run over his body and sooth away the aches and pains. When he had finally ran out of hot water, he toweled off and crawled into bed, not bothering to put on any clothes, or dry his dark blond hair. He thought he would be asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but instead he found himself thinking about the temple, the pendant, and the woman who had caught him there. How had she known he was in there? He was too far inside for the light from his flashlight to be seen, he had been quiet; not even the ancient door opening for the first time in however many hundreds of years had barely made a noise. Strangely, he hoped she was okay. That thought got him wondering why he cared so much. He’d killed before to get the prize he was after. Why would simply hurting someone bother him? He knew why. Because he’d already seen and done too much violence. He was done; burnt out. Tired of retrieving ancient and rare treasures for rich people. Tired of hurting innocents, even if it was better than just killing them. He was just tired. He threw his arm over his eyes and tried to block faces that always appeared to him when he closed his eyes. Bryce wasn’t a killer. Every life he had ever taken was burned onto to his very soul; a weight he carried with him always. At least that part of his life was done. No more innocents to add to the long list. No more Tomb raiding, no more killing. Once this transaction was completed, he would walk away.
As they often do when he thinks of leaving, his thoughts turned to his life before the raiding and killing. These memories were….fuzzy and distant, like they belonged to someone else. He could remember his mother holding him after he had a bad fall. That one was more feeling of comfort and safety than acutal, visual memory. He remembered a man, tall and strong, but cold and remote. He could see things that seemed like he had lived through; college, dating and some kind of military training, but when he tried to focus on them, the memories skitted away like butter on a hot pan. All he could remember with any clarity is the first tomb he had robbed, the item he had to retireve and the 3 people he had killed in the process. That memory was strong, their faces crystal clear in his head. Just like all of the killing and stealing after that.
Bryce finally fell into a fitfull sleep. He tossed and turned all night, having nightmares that he couldn’t rememeber the next day. When he woke up, the sun was streaming through the windows on the east side of his bedroom. He stretched, threw the blankets back and made his way to the bathroom. Even though he lived alone, he closed the bathroom door and locked it. He examined his naked body in the full length mirror that was on the back of the door. Not for the first time, he was surprised at how well toned he was for being his age. He’s tall, over 6 foot 3, his stomach still held it’s washboard firmness, his dark blond hair was full, wavey and was trimmed neatly just above his ears and his green eyes are still striking and sharp. His arms were muscular with out being bulky, his shoulders are wide and his chest sports just a little bit of blond hair. He was tan, for the most part. Definitly not pasty white and sparkly…hahaha He looked as if he played professional baseball or was a career military man. Fit, yet not young anymore he thought with a sigh. He relieved himself, brushed his teeth, and then went back to his bedroom to find some clothes.
Chapter 2
Laruen woke in the dark, cold tomb with her head throbbing. She layed there for a minute or so, trying to collect her thoughts. Carefully, she reached up and felt the back of her head. She felt dried blood in her hair. “Great.” she thought. “Just fucking fantastic. Not only did I botch the job, I got hit in the head in the process.” She sighed out loud, the action causing a shooting pain down her back. “Awesome. He stabbed me too, did he?” She felt around her back, but didn’t find an open wound. “What the….” Then her fingers brushed across something square, metal and cold. Not an object usually found on the dirty floor of a tomb. She absently put it in her pocket and picking herself off of the ground, she wandered unsteadily back out of the tomb into the rainy night.
The Archilolgist camp was still quiet. She snuck past the silent tent cluster to her jeep which she had hidden behind some growth. Since she had arrived and intended to leave under the cover of darkness, she hadn’t worried about hiding her means of transportation to much. Still, she held her breath when she turned over the engine. It was an older jeep, but the engine purred to life with out any problems or noise. As she drove back to her hotel, she thought about the man she had seen in the tomb. She had caught just a breif glimps of him before he had turned off his flashlight. He had the pendant, she knew that for sure, but who was he? Who was he working for? Was he just a tomb robber with no idea of what exactly he had? She doubted that last thought. The man moved with precision and grace. He knew what he was doing and what he was after. Her thoughts lingered on this mysterious man the whole 45 minute drive back to civilization. Once back at her hotel, she took a long warm shower to shake the chill from the rain. When she got out, she inspected her head as best as she could. Just a minor bump-no permanent damage. He had done this before. Hm. But why didn’t he just kill her? Another mystery. Feeling the bump on her head reminded Lauren of the object that was digging into her back as she lay on the tomb floor. Digging her pants out of the pile of clothes on the floor, she located the square metal object. It was an old fashioned lighter, the kind with a flip lid and refillable fluid. It was silver and had the initals BRM III engraved on the face. On the back there was an inscription:
*not sure where to go from here, but I'm thinking on it....
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
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