Voretober 2022 - ANCIENT

“HEAVE!”

Three cloaked figures pulled back on a thick rope that was attached by a makeshift pulley to a large stone slab. As they did, the slab lifted slightly into the air. “HEAVE!” the one in front shouted, again. They pulled back further, lifting the slab enough to where someone could crawl under. “HEAVE!” Crouching height. “HEEEEEEEEAVE!” They tugged back long and hard this time, finally hoisting it to a height where they could walk under it. “HOLD!”

The one in front dropped the rope as sure as he was certain the other two were steady. Then he scurried over to the pair of jacks they had ready and set them up. Once they were locked into position he finally casually said, “Alright, y’all can let go now.” They let the rope slacken and the jacks held firm. Satisfied, the leader pulled out a hard helmet with a light affixed. “Come get your hats boys, we’re goin’ in.”

He dropped his hood, revealing its red interior and himself. He was a brown-furred rat with scraggly whiskers. The second, taller figure walked over and dropped his own blue-lined hood before digging inside the same box for another helmet. He too was a rat, although black with straight whiskers. As he pulled out one of his own, he realized a problem. “Caro, you didn’t bring a third one?”

Their third pulled down his hood too, though stopped short of them. His cloak lacked an interior color, but he had snow-white fur with red eyes and straight whiskers like Jug’s own. “Aw, what? You didn’t get supplies for me?”

“Cap, buddy, of course I did. They were just out of these miner helmets, but...” Caro dug into the box and pulled out a small black flashlight. “I got ya one of these. Same power, just not attached to a helmet!”

“Do I have a helmet?”

“...No. I didn’t get any normal helmets.”

Jug let out a flat chuckle while Cap facepawed. “Maybe next time I should take over requisitioning supplies since there’s three of us now, Caro.”

“Ehh... Maybe. Anyway, we’re here, it’s time, we should head in.”

They each turned towards the entrance, with Caro and Jug turning on their headlamps. The lights shone deep into the darkness without illuminating anything more than a stony floor leading into its depths. The tomb was supposed to belong to some cult leader, centuries past at this point, but that didn’t matter to them. What did was the tons of gold and precious gemstones he was supposedly buried with. Even if no one had ever actually extracted those riches. Until today.

They each turned and looked at each other. “Ready?” Caro asked.

Jug extended a hand forward. “Elders first.”

“One of these days I’m going to show you how to really respect your elders,” he grumbled before heading in. The other two followed, with Cap finally turning on his flashlight as well. It was different being inside that darkness. Almost immediately the smell of something untouched for so long, damp and dusty, hit them. Cap coughed, but the others seemed used to it. That, or they were trying to breathe as little as possible.

The path to the burial chamber wasn’t exactly complicated. The figure in question was a cult leader, not a king. Nearly all his wealth in life was sealed in this very chamber. The cult vanished soon after his death too, without much in the way of remnants left behind. The only thing they really knew about him ahead of time was that he was an owl who went by the name of Beel.

They walked in a more or less straight line, watching their surroundings for anything unusual like traps. In the end, it proved unnecessary. The most dangerous thing present were bugs in corners and sides. Soon enough, they came to another stone door that Jug believed was the entryway to the burial chamber. “Do we need to lift this one up too?” Cap asked.

Jug started feeling along the door. “No, usually interior passages like this one have some easier way to open them. It’s just a matter of...” He trailed off until he found a small square that he could press down. “Time.” Some mechanism activated in the walls, pulling the door up into the wall above it. Caro and Jug walked through calmly, with Caro cheering on Jug by smacking his back while Cap felt more wary.

The chamber was dark as the rest, although there were mounts for long-since burnt torches on the walls. But what caught their eye most was glittering gold and jewelry left exposed on the other side of the room. It was just sitting there in the open. Ripe for the taking. They walked up carefully, just in case, but the only other thing in the room besides dust was the fancy coffin in the center.

“Alright, Cap, you’re with me, let’s start transporting this stuff back to the van. Jug, I know you like to check out the coffin, so feel free, ya freak.”

Jug scoffed. “It’s a simple fact that these types tend to keep their most valuable goods on their person. I know you would.”

“You’re damn right! But it’s just creepy.”

“Regardless...” Jug grunted as he pushed the coffin lid aside, revealing a very well preserved owl. Clean, silvery feathers and dressed in green robes. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he died yesterday. But before he could even consider the oddity of it, he got knocked backwards. It was as if a gust of wind hit him, and he had the feeling death itself had passed by. But when he looked up, he saw that it was very much present.

Caro turned around as soon as he heard Jug hit the ground, expecting to tease him for being scared. What he didn’t expect was to see a giant, blue, and transparent figure of an owl wisping from the coffin. He didn’t want to say it was a ghost, but he wasn’t sure what else it could be. He whispered over to Jug, “Is that... a hologram? It’s not a... ghost?”

Jug looked at him, fright clear on his face, but before he could speak the ghost boomed out, “TRESPASSERS! My name is BEEL. I’m sure you already know my name, but know this: You won’t be leaving here.” With a flap of his wings, the door shut. That seemed to terrify them. But they still whispered in a language he didn’t understand. “Do you UNDERSTAND ME, RODENTS?” He was staring right at them, but they continued to chitter. The bigger one of them even tried to speak to him in their unknown tongue.

Beel rolled his eyes. “Almost a thousand years and no one brings a linguist...” Fortunately, he knew of one way to get them to understand him. He was planning on it anyway. With a forceful flap of his wings, all the would-be grave-robbers stilled. Then they fell to the ground, leaving colored ghosts of themselves where they once stood. “Well then! Do you understand me now, my filthy little grave-robbers?”

They could. They didn’t understand why, but they could. They didn’t know what to say now. Cap piped up first, with a question on all their minds even if the other two were holding it together more. He nervously squeaked out, “Are we dead?!”

Beel smiled. “Not exactly. Not yet.”

After more silence, Jug spoke up, curious. “Why... or how is your body so pristine? And... why are you so... big?”

Not only was the owl’s ghost bigger in size than them and his own body, but he also looked... heavier. The way his body wisped made it appear as if he was pear-shaped, his lower half almost entirely a corpulent belly. His smile grew wider and he said, “Why, I’m glad you asked! I’ll show you!”

His beak opened wide and Beel flapped his wings backwards towards him. The three rats felt that same wind from earlier, but pulling towards him. Pulling them straight into his mouth. Cap went first, vanishing somehow into that transparent figure. Jug wasn’t long behind, and then Caro too. With all of them inside, he stopped flapping his wings and sighed. He placed a feathery hand over his ghostly tummy, feeling their little souls wriggle around inside his own.

“You just had to mention something didn’t you, Jug?”

“I didn’t think he would eat our souls!”

“I can’t believe I’m going to die in a ghost’s belly with you two idiots!”

Beel simply relaxed as the souls naturally, slowly, degraded inside his own. Adding to his own. Just like all the ones before, just like his cult so many centuries past. As their very souls dissolved, so did their bodies, turning into more dust to litter the room. When they were finished the only thing they left behind was equipment and a dainty burp from his beak. He always appreciated the snacks, but he did like getting back to his eternal rest. So he vanished back ‘into’ his coffin, shutting the lid and all the doors to his chamber. Until the next time someone got the wise idea to enter the tomb of Beel the Avaricious.