Burial at Sea
A collection of screenshots, printed out and stored in a plain manilla folder. Found on the desk of private investigator Mía Cruz after her disappearance.
Page #227
An aged, slightly damp page ripped out carefully out of the larger work. One word within the text has been circled in red. The back of the page has been painted over with correction fluid.
Look here!" Another exultant cry, as if I weren't myself bombarded with the discovery of the century! Placing my hand upon the stone before me, I illuminate the carvings with a touch of radiance. Shaky as my grip remains from what are now several sleepless days, I still manage to steady my hand long enough to take in yet another restructuring of what I believed was real. There are more and more of them every passing moment it would appear.
Gazing upon the intricate detailing of the wall, only one thought rattles in my mind. This couldn't be possible, Cambodia was thousands of miles apart from the stone beneath my feet and above my head; and yet still, the engravings match those I myself witnessed in Angkor Wat. Could the Khmer have build this temple as well? Perhaps a group splintered from the rest and found themselves on this island like us? That would be far too convenient an explanation, however, considering how the above ground section of the temple looks nothing like the work made by the hands that brought Angkor Wat into this miserable world.
"Andrew, look I said! Quickly, come and see!" The words are enough to wrest me free from my trance, which means they are entirely too loud. With a furrowed brow, I turn quickly. My light forcing the shadow of the boy against the corridor wall as I let my will be known.
"What? What is it? Can you not see I am occupied?" I have to bite my tongue, quickly cutting off our illumination as I hold my breath. Down the corridor, there is a silence. Slowly, my free hand reaches down towards the battered holster and grips ivory. I must remove it, but will the scrape of steel on leather be my demise? Without a word I stare out, into the blackened depths, and wait.
Nothing.
For entirely too long, nothing. Finally I breathe, focusing my eyes back onto the boy as the light blinds me. A small shadow fills the corridor behind him, painting over in thin film another revelation. No sooner than I open my jaw to chastise the child, do my eyes widen in sheer bewilderment.
Gazing upon the intricate detailing of the wall, only one thought rattles in my mind. This couldn't be possible, Cambodia was thousands of miles apart from the stone beneath my feet and above my head; and yet still, the engravings match those I myself witnessed in Angkor Wat. Could the Khmer have build this temple as well? Perhaps a group splintered from the rest and found themselves on this island like us? That would be far too convenient an explanation, however, considering how the above ground section of the temple looks nothing like the work made by the hands that brought Angkor Wat into this miserable world.
"Andrew, look I said! Quickly, come and see!" The words are enough to wrest me free from my trance, which means they are entirely too loud. With a furrowed brow, I turn quickly. My light forcing the shadow of the boy against the corridor wall as I let my will be known.
"What? What is it? Can you not see I am occupied?" I have to bite my tongue, quickly cutting off our illumination as I hold my breath. Down the corridor, there is a silence. Slowly, my free hand reaches down towards the battered holster and grips ivory. I must remove it, but will the scrape of steel on leather be my demise? Without a word I stare out, into the blackened depths, and wait.
Nothing.
For entirely too long, nothing. Finally I breathe, focusing my eyes back onto the boy as the light blinds me. A small shadow fills the corridor behind him, painting over in thin film another revelation. No sooner than I open my jaw to chastise the child, do my eyes widen in sheer bewilderment.
"Death‽" Am I seeing final Condemnation? "Holy stars..." I manage, as the light fades from my grip. I shall let the boy have his expression of triumph at my expense this once. There are more important thoughts and words circling my mind at the moment. Because the visage before me, I cannot fathom it. Why may Her image be pressed into this stone? So distant from Her lands and Her children?
I motion quickly for the boy, the truth in his hands raised for me to witness the relief in greater detail. Truly, I cannot even assert what this may alter. For what foundation do I possess with all I've bore witness thus far? Nothing before announced Her presence, and it is unlike Her children to obscure Her in this way. Tracing the stone, I sense a latent heat within and without Her presence. Could this be a method to reach Her?
Plip...
No, no this cannot be! I pull my hand away from the warmth, searching frantically for the source I beg not to uncover.
Plip!
The boy, now sharing my anguished look, frantically patters on my arm as the head of the corridor is bathed in light. A single traitorous droplet falls downward and onto my cheek. The moisture might as well be my very own tears as I step back, colliding with solid rock behind me.
Skkkkkkrttt......
"Run boy!" I shout, pushing the child away from me and deeper into the tunnels. For a moment, he refuses, clutching onto my coat the same were I his mother. "GO!" My scream fills the corridor as the arrhythmic pinpricks of metal cascade towards me as another terrible prophet falls onto my extended hand. It runs downward onto the ivory grip as I aim my only hope towards the origin of the sound.
As it approaches, I am blinded. A dreadful ringing batters my eardrums as a touch of radiance illuminates my demise above and before me. The clatter of knives, the pouring of seawater.
Please boy, survive this yet.
I motion quickly for the boy, the truth in his hands raised for me to witness the relief in greater detail. Truly, I cannot even assert what this may alter. For what foundation do I possess with all I've bore witness thus far? Nothing before announced Her presence, and it is unlike Her children to obscure Her in this way. Tracing the stone, I sense a latent heat within and without Her presence. Could this be a method to reach Her?
Plip...
No, no this cannot be! I pull my hand away from the warmth, searching frantically for the source I beg not to uncover.
Plip!
The boy, now sharing my anguished look, frantically patters on my arm as the head of the corridor is bathed in light. A single traitorous droplet falls downward and onto my cheek. The moisture might as well be my very own tears as I step back, colliding with solid rock behind me.
Skkkkkkrttt......
"Run boy!" I shout, pushing the child away from me and deeper into the tunnels. For a moment, he refuses, clutching onto my coat the same were I his mother. "GO!" My scream fills the corridor as the arrhythmic pinpricks of metal cascade towards me as another terrible prophet falls onto my extended hand. It runs downward onto the ivory grip as I aim my only hope towards the origin of the sound.
As it approaches, I am blinded. A dreadful ringing batters my eardrums as a touch of radiance illuminates my demise above and before me. The clatter of knives, the pouring of seawater.
Please boy, survive this yet.
"I see Her there, plain as sunshine, in my dreams. Lounging atop the sodden ashes, and the horror... oh, the Horror"
Beautiful and quite touching.
Thank you! I really got caught up in writing the excerpt from the fictional book lmoa, almost makes me want to write the real thing maybe some day :p