Somewhere in Central Mexico:
In ancient forgotten ruins, lay an artifact that time has forgotten. It lay on a pedestal covered in so much grime and dust, that only a vague outline could be seen in first glance. The whole room could be described as a place of worship that has fallen into unfathomable decay. Cracked stone walls, horrendous creepers pouring out of every crevice, dust choking everything like a hangman's noose. The pedestal was the only object in the room upholding the memories of this holy site with its faded murals still trying to fight the sands of time. Yet, the murals do not depict anything related to other dead civilizations of the Indians. Instead, beginning at the base of the pedestal they depict men worshiping everything above them with images of human sacrifices. The body of the pedestal these men worship depicts the images of warriors, who each have different creatures who stand behind them like shadows, fighting in fields of fire. In the heart of the conflict contains a striking image of man whose arms outstretched towards the sky, and behind him is a shadow clad in yellow who is also mirroring the man's gesture. The uppermost part of the pedestal depicts the night sky with abhorrent abominations descending from the stars, and in the heart, it all a symbol scratched out on the chest of one these monstrosities. The symbol had only fractions remaining on mural, but even in this great state of weakness it emulated an insidious power. It was like a cold dread that slithered through one's veins that left a feeling of some bile insect was crawling on your skin while all the while pulsating like a beating heart.
No man would know this terror as it rests in its tomb, but even when death has forgotten, there are some who still remember. And like the yearning a child has for their mother, it was only a matter of time when the lost return home. So be it when light peered through the ruins for the first and final time in untold years, the child was home. With lamp in hand, the lost child blindly but carefully works their way around the chamber as if looking for something. The dusty pedestal was the last to be exposed by the child's lamp, but with a quick gust of air the thick dust particles engulfed the light. However, once they settled, the light revealed the artifact that was nearly lost from the world. It was an arrow that was created majestically in a style like the ancient civilization of Egypt, but in the heart of the head was ugly blemish. The blemish appeared to be as if someone had hastily pour molten gold onto it as if to keep a feature from the arrow from prying eyes. It mattered not to the lost child, who took their prize and begun the long trek out of the chamber. With the child came forth the whispers, who followed like flies to a decaying corpse, and they grew louder the farther the child left…