DAMASCUS - It has been seven weeks in the blazing hot sun since Prof. Jonathan Weisman had arrived in search of... well, he didn't know quite what yet. His former teacher, Jeremy Hawthorn, invited him to attend to this expedition due to his particular interest in the area they would be in. The entrance to a cavern had been opened earlier that day; and, a few wooden signs with ancient texts had been discovered among the rubble. Hawthorn was getting ready a team to explore the cavern, while he left Weisman posted outside to decipher and log what the signs read.
Weisman was a young man in his late twenties, a slim build with medium-cut light brown hair and blue eyes hidden behind glasses. He was young and fairly handsome, which more times than not hindered his career as an archeologist. He didn't look old enough
As Weisman watched Hawthorn take the five men into the darkness of the cavern, he brushed his frizzled hair to one side and examined the first rotted piece of wood. He could hear the team's steps echoing off the cavern's walls and thought it had a rhythm to it.
Weisman hummed to himself and listened to the sounds from the cave getting softer and softer as time went on. "Let's see," he said out loud as he looked at the first markings of the signs. "Herabiscus..." he looked back at a reference book on pronunciation."Necroa horzain... Alzeez... de marksi mortus... "He wrote down the words on his log sheet and looked at them as a whole to translate the message... "Death awaits those who disturb Alzeez..."
Weisman was caught off guard for a moment and thought about its message. However he had work to do, and shrugged it off. He wrote the translation in his logs and moved on to the next sign. This one was easier; only three words:
"Klatuu barada nikto"
"Shine light on the darkness," he said as he wrote it in his log and moved on to the next sign. He looked at it a moment, then looked back at the where he put the last sign just to make sure he put it in the right pile. He did.
"Klatuu barada nikto?" He looked at the next...
"Klatuu barada nikto..."
After a few more moment Weisman had looked through the all of the signs. As it turned out, six of the seven wood pieces had the same markings burned into them.
That's odd, he thought, the Damascians were a culture that thought words were sacred, and should be used sparingly. They wouldn't waste words, repeating the same message unless... unless it was as part of an... incantation?
Jonathan immediately dumped the signs and ran to his table to look up the name Alzeez in his historical guide to ancient Damascus. He read out loud Alzeez: The mad poet who worshiped the dark ones was a story told to children in ancient Damascus to keep them in line. As the legend goes, Alzeez was the high priest of the dark ones, always in search of children to sacrifice to his gods. If the child held an impure soul, Alzeez would abduct the child and give it to the Dark Ones to feast and help their powers grow. In return, Alzeez was given ancient incantations and spells of the dark ones, which was recorded in his journal...
"THE NECRONOMICON EX MORTUS..."
Weisman closed the book and thought to himself for a moment. The book of the dead... how... eerie. But, it says Alzeez is a fable... surely this can't be his tomb...
"JONATHAN!" A deep voice quivered in his ear, sending deep chills down his spine. Something was behind him.
"Who's there?" He said not wanting to look.
"JOIN US!"
"Dear god, no..." Jonathan closed his eyes and turned around. After a few more seconds of silence he mustered up enough courage to open his eyes and see... his walkie-talkie on the table.
"Jonathan, come in." The walkie-talkie continued. "Join us in here, you won't believe what we found. Are you there, Weisman?"
He picked it up and pushed the side button. "I'm here... barely."
"What took you so long to answer?"
"Nothing. I must have been daydreaming. I finished translating the signs though.
"Nevermind that right now. Get down here... I think we found a tomb of some sort. There are bodies everywhere."