Sowhere, or perhaps... soti.
The darkness pressed down like a weight, broken only by the distant rumble of machinery above. Then light pierced through—harsh, unforgiving, and although it was incredibly faint, soone heard a... whimper explode along with the settling dust.
The beam of light revealed ancient stone, carved walls that hadn’t felt air in centuries. Dust motes danced in the light as the crypt slowly unveiled itself, untouched and waiting.
The dust, perhaps celebrating the mont they were once again moved.
"...been digging everywhere for years." The voice echoed from above, muffled but clear.
"Yeah, yeah. Let’s just explore this and go to the next one."
"These locals keep scamming us."
"Ssh!"
"What? They can’t understand English, anyway. Intern, where’s your suit?!"
"I-I’m coming!"
"I have a feeling this is it."
"You’ve had that feeling the past twenty sites."
"Intern! Hurry up! Dr. Williams, what’s wrong with your intern?!"
"S-sorry!"
The voices beca even clearer as the shadows of their owners erged from the outside. Their heavy boots scraped against the stone as they descended. Workers in hard hats and coveralls entered first, their flashlights sweeping the chamber for anything dangerous.
Behind them ca the scientists. White hazmat suits covered them completely, plastic visors reflecting the harsh work lights. Most of them walked clumsily, already extrely tired of having their expectations crushed.
One scientist, however, still had a hop on her steps, and she moved apart from the group. Through her plastic visor, yellow eyes glead with intensity. She swept her flashlight across the ancient walls, studying every carving, every shadow.
"Fascinating..." she whispered. "The archaeologists back ho would lose their minds over this."
She continued moving apart from the group, not even minding that the areas she was walking on still hadn’t been checked by the safety workers. Her fingers hovered an inch away from the stone, not wanting to stain the symbols etched on the walls.
"Wait, these... aren’t Latin." She gasped, and a smile could be seen creeping under her plastic mask. "These... are Greek letters. Interesting."
She continued to walk deeper into the crypt, her eyes not leaving the symbols at all. She panned her flashlight behind her, watching the others also do the sa.
"Now..." She clutched her chest, breathing heavily as she nodded to herself. "...I swear I heard sothing make a noise earlier. You might actually die here, girl."
She gulped and, despite her fear, continued on deeper. The symbols etched on the wall soon beca even more intense and nurous, and the farther it went, the more they seed to spiral in one single direction.
A direction, of course, the curious scientist followed.
And very soon, her beam caught sothing at the end of this spiral.
"That’s..." She stepped closer, then gasped.
A corpse lay curled against the stone—impossibly thin, desiccated skin stretched over bone.
"Fascinating," she whispered to herself. "To be preserved like this, the conditions here must have—"
And then, she noticed sothing while approaching it—the corpse’s eyes were tracking her.
"Eep!" She stumbled backward, her heart almost stopping there and then.
"Dr. Aniston?! What’s wrong?!"
"Shit! Dr. Williams, control your intern!"
"Charlotte, what’s wrong?! What did you see?!"
The other scientists rushed over, their voices either filled with worry or exhaustion. They helped her up, but she ignored all of them.
Instead, she found herself being pulled toward the corpse—as if her own body was excited to see what it was. She knelt beside the corpse, studying the decayed leather straps that bound its wrists and ankles.
Just from this alone, and the fact that the crypt was already buried deep by sand and rubble... it beca evident to her just how old this corpse was.
"This is it," she breathed. "We found him."
But she also noticed sothing wrong, however. By the size of the corpse relative to its head, this living corpse was—
"...A child?"
She reached out slowly. The corpse’s eyes t hers again. In that mont, sothing passed between them. Recognition? Understanding? A connection that defied explanation.
Her fingers hovered inches from its face.
"You..." she whispered. "...you’ve been trapped here for—"
"Get the specin ready for transport!" Before she could actually touch its face, one of the doctors behind her shouted. "Careful with the restraints—we need everything intact!"
The other scientists sward forward, breaking the mont. But those yellow eyes never left the living corpse’s face, even as they prepared to take him from his ancient prison.
"He’s..." Dr. Aniston muttered as she got a better look at the living corpse when they started packing him. "...just a child."
***
A few days later, the living corpse, though perhaps that term no longer fit, rested inside a transparent containnt unit. Tubes fed him hydration and oxygen, and his body responded like a slowly inflating balloon. Flesh filled out over bone, skin regained color, and what had been a desiccated husk began to resemble sothing human.
"Remarkable cellular regeneration," Dr. Williams muttered, scribbling notes. "We’ve already witnessed this when we first brought it out, but the rate of recovery defies every dical principle we know."
"Look at the muscle tissue reformation," another scientist added. "This sort of damage should be irreversible, but this..."
"...These scars, why aren’t they healing?"
The other doctors clustered around monitors, analyzing data streams and discussing theories. But once again, Dr. Aniston stood apart from the group, her attention focused entirely on the figure in the glass.
"Hello, again." She raised her hand and waved gently, a soft smile spreading across her face.
The figure’s eyes tracked her movent. Still weak, still fragile, but undeniably aware of her.
"Are you comfortable there? At least you get to sleep a lot, huh?" Dr. Aniston lightly chuckled, stepping closer to the containnt unit and placing her palm flat against the glass.
The figure inside, no longer a corpse, but not yet fully alive, watched her hand with intense focus.
Slowly, trembling with effort, he raised his own hand. His fingers shook as he struggled to align them with hers. The tips of his fingers pressed against the glass, matching her palm.
"You—" Dr. Aniston gasped. Even through the glass, she could almost feel warmth radiating from his touch. The connection felt... electric.
"Dr. Aniston!" Dr. Williams’s voice cut through the mont. "Step away from the specin!"
"Sorry!" She jerked her hand back. "I was just trying to—"
"What you are not trying to do is follow protocol." Dr. Williams approached, his expression stern. "You know what you signed up for here, Charlotte. I’ve gone through great lengths for you to be a part of this project. Do not get attached."
"That..." Dr. Aniston’s head lowered. "I... am very thankful for everything you did, Dr. Williams. I understand."
Dr. Aniston nodded reluctantly and moved back to join the other researchers. But even then, even with the lecture, her eyes kept drifting to the glass, where the figure’s hand remained pressed against the barrier...
...It was almost as if he was calling her back.
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