Map: Part VI
Aaron tumbled downwards, hands flung out, scraping the dirt, then stone, at his sides. He tried desperately to slow his descent, but, unfortunately, he landed rather awkwardly on his legs/back.
“I hope you’re not dead because I am not explaining how you got down there.” Rosie’s voice echoed down to him.
“I’m fine!” he yelled back, looking up at her face peering over the hole. It wasn’t that far of a drop, maybe seven feet.
He stood and brushed himself off. The hole led to a tunnel with rocky walls and a hard, uneven ground. He flexed his hands, which were scraped and dirty. He noticed that his left hand was cut and bleeding slightly, but he didn’t really mind. The treasure was real!
“What’s down there?” called Rosie.
Aaron looked around, but all he could see was rock and shadows. Then he spotted his flashlight, which he had quickly freed from his grip during his fall. He picked it up and turned it on, spinning to shine it down the dark tunnel. “It’s just dirt and stone,” he said.
“Well. Tell me if you find anything.”
“You’ve gotta come down!” he protested, squinting upwards. The sunlight was bright from down here.
“Throw the book to me. I need something to do while I wait,” she said back. He could see that she had sat down at the edge of the hole. Settling in.
“You’re kidding. You’re really not coming down?” He couldn’t believe it. They used to do all kinds of stupid stuff when they were kids, and those were for made-up adventures.
“I told you, Torres, I’m done with your games. And now you’re stuck in a hole!” It was the first time today that she seemed genuinely amused, and the first time Aaron was genuinely annoyed.
“This isn’t a game!” he yelled back, and shined the flashlight up into her eyes. “You just wait!” He huffed and started down the tunnel without a second glance, clutching his left hand in a fist, and not just because it was bleeding.
Why would she bother coming with him if she was just going to mock him? Why did he even ask her to help at all? He made the very poor decision to kick the stone wall, and hoped his grunt of pain didn’t echo back to her.
He continued until he reached the end of the tunnel. The walkway was small, wide enough for only one person to comfortably walk, and maybe forty feet long. It ended in a sort of stone throne room that was eerily dark and stony.
Aaron stepped silently into the room, as if noise would awaken the evil spirits that slept here. Who knew? Maybe there was something guarding the treasure.
The wall in front of him was flat, but curved where he had walked in. A half circle. In the center, a stone throne rose from the ground, hastily chiseled and dangerously jagged.
Along the curved wall, strange shapes were fashioned out of the stone. They all seemed to resemble things, but the proportions were off and the craftsmanship was poor.
Aaron stepped closer to one. It looked like a hand, protruding from the ground like it was growing, and clutching a sword. There were far too many fingers, and they melded together in unnatural ways. He felt the hairs on his neck stand up, and he backed away, trying to ignore the chill in the room.
Carefully, he approached the back wall, upon which six letters were carved:
B E W A R E
Read part I: https://theprose.com/post/243841/map