What Lies Beneath
A Short Horror Story for 30 Days of Fright: Day 9
For Day 9 of ’s 30 Days of Fright challenge, the prompt asked writers to tell a story about something buried beneath a graveyard.
This is my entry. Please enjoy…
It was a full moon on the night that three grave robbers decided to desecrate the grave of the late Sir Reginald Baxter.
They toiled beneath pale moonlight, hurriedly digging into the cold Earth as they sought the treasure that had been supposedly buried with him.
“I’m telling ya boys, this guy’s like a pharaoh. I heard he had all his valuables put in the ground with him,” Edgar said, wiping glistening sweat from his forehead.
“And you’re sure no one’s going to come looking? Isn’t that place always guarded?” Rupert asked, his wide eyes darting around the darkened graveyard.
Just above them, standing beside the plot, a well-dressed man named Charles Davenport dabbed his face with a white handkerchief.
“You needn’t worry about that, my dear colleague. I made sure all the guards had the night off tonight. Can’t have anyone trying to interfere with my…investment.”
Edgar and Rupert continued digging furiously with their shovels until Edgar hit something solid and hollow. The two men grinned at each other through crooked teeth.
“Marvelous! Capital work, gentlemen! Now, let’s hoist that coffin out of there and bask in our newfound riches, shall we?” Charles asked.
Edgar and Rupert set up the lifter Charles had provided them. Once the device was set up, they each took hold of a hand crank and started lifting the coffin out of the ground. Chunks of dirt rolled off the side as it levitated into the air.
Charles Davenport looked on with a devilish grin. Edgar and Rupert were not aware of this, but Charles and Reginald had been bitter rivals in life. The chance to rob him of his riches in death was a prospect too tempting for Charles to resist.
“Hey, Mr. Davenport sir, there’s something else down here,” Edgar said, still standing in the freshly dug grave.
“Is it valuable?” Charles asked, running his hand over the surface of the lifted casket.
“Looks like it’s made of stone. It’s got something written on it,” Edgar replied.
“Well, what does it say?” Charles asked.
Edgar and Rupert both crouched down, squinting in the darkness as they brushed dirt off the stone slab. It ran the entire length of the grave.
A series of messages were carved into the surface. The first one was written in Sumerian Cuneiform. The second was written in Latin. The third was written in English, and below it were similar messages in Arabic, Spanish, Mandarin, and several other languages below those.
Edgar and Rupert, of course, could only read the message in English. It said, quite simply:
Leave this place. There is only death here. What lies beneath must never walk the Earth again.
Edgar and Rupert exchanged nervous glances as they heard Charles open the casket above them.
“What is this? Where is everything?” Charles asked.
The body of Reginald Baxter lay within, dressed in his finest suit, his hands interlaced over his waist. He had been buried there for nearly a year, and yet, he had not decayed in the slightest. Charles Davenport, of course, was not concerned with this fact.
He was more concerned with the fact that the coffin held not a single piece of gold, rare gem, or otherwise valuable artifact, as they rumors had claimed.
Charles stepped to the edge of the grave and looked down to the stone slab at the bottom that was placed beneath the casket.
“It must be beneath that! Open it immediately, I command you!” Charles shouted.
Edgar spoke up first. “Well, sir, you see, there’s something written on this stone here, and…”
“I don’t give a rat’s arse what’s written on it! Open it now, or I won’t pay you a single pound!” Charles roared.
Edgar and Rupert both exchanged another silent glance.
“Alright, let’s put the casket down and use the lift on the slab!” Rupert said.
The men went to work as Charles stood by watching. He was fixated on the body of Reginald, glaring at the man like he had personally wronged him. Edgar and Rupert affixed the machine to the stone slab littered with warnings and began turning the cranks to lift it.
The moment it budged, air began to hiss around the sides of it. A smell beyond anything the three men had ever experienced spewed forth.
It was a mixture of sulfur and decay, like time itself was rotting beneath the stone surface.
Edgar and Rupert kept their hands on the machinery, but both immediately turned and vomited onto the manicured grass beside them. Charles Davenport covered his mouth with his handkerchief.
“Get down there and look inside! The sooner we close that infernal lid, the better!” Charles barked.
Edgar and Rupert climbed back into the grave and stood beside the opening beneath the stone slab. It hung above them, blocking the moonlight, but even without it, they would never be able to see into the space below.
Beneath the slab was pure, unending blackness. Like a starless sky. The two men stared into it, feeling an uneasiness in their guts that surpassed even the nausea from the horrific smell.
Something stirred in the darkness beneath them.
“Uh, Mr. Davenport sir? I don’t see—”
A thin and slender limb, like an overgrown spider leg, shot out from within the darkness. The serrated tip pierced through Edgar’s stomach, bursting out through his back with ease. Rupert looked on in horror as his friend’s blood dripped from the tip of the limb.
Edgar’s wide eyes looked over to his friend and they made brief eye contact before the limb pulled Edgar screaming into the darkness beneath the Earth. The screams ceased suddenly as Rupert turned and began clawing his way up the side of the open grave.
“There’s something down there!” he screamed.
Charles Davenport approached the edge and looked down on the poor man. His panicked eyes and flailing arms did little to help him escape.
“Help me, please!” Rupert screamed.
Charles silently watched. He had no intention of helping the poor soul. A gutteral roar escaped from within the darkness below as a thin, slime covered tentacle curled around Rupert’s ankle. The man looked down as he felt the thing against his skin.
“No, please god, no. Help me!” he cried.
Charles watched as the thing pulled Rupert into its domain. Much like Edgar, his screams ceased almost immediately. Charles Davenport slid his handkerchief into his front pocket and shook his head. Disappointment painted his face.
“Well that was a waste of time,” he said, turning away from the scene. He began walking toward the entrance of the graveyard, ignorant to the inhuman sounds that escaped from the tomb behind him.
“Hey, asshole, were you planning on cleaning up your mess?”
Charles froze. He recognized that voice.
“Reginald?”
He spun around, and to his utter shock, the man he had known as Reginald Baxter was standing beside his own coffin.
“I don’t understand…what happened to your voice?” Charles asked.
Reginald shook his head. “Oh that? All part of the disguise, but now that you’ve gone and opened the damn tomb, I don’t need to keep up appearances. I thought the whole ‘buried with riches’ story would mean added security, but I should have known not to underestimate grave robbers.”
Charles could barely form words. “How is this possible?”
“No time to explain. I need to seal the tomb while it’s distracted and eating,” Reginald said, approaching Charles at a brisk pace.
Charles threw up his hands and backpedaled. “What are you doing? Get away from me!”
Reginald stopped just short of Charles and swung out with a right hook. His fist slammed into Charles’ face, knocking the aristocrat to the ground. Reginald grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him back through the grass toward the grave.
“Unhand me this instant!” Charles shouted.
“You know, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t going to enjoy this,” Reginald said, approaching the edge of the grave.
“I’ll have you arrested! You hear me?” Charles screamed.
“Yeah, I hear you, but I’m not listening. Anyway, thanks for the help, bud!” Reginald said, throwing Charles Davenport into the open grave.
He tumbled down into the abyss below the Earth, screaming for his life. Reginald reached into his coat and pulled out a black dagger adorned with yellow jewels like looked like reptilian eyes. He slashed the blade across the straps holding the stone slab aloft.
It crashed down onto its resting place, and Reginald leapt in after it. He felt the thing below pushing against the stone as he bent down and began tracing runes into the surface with the tip of the dagger.
Reginald whispered an ancient incantation as the glowing symbols burned a bright yellow on the stone below him. He was careful to avoid the messages as he made his way down the sides of the slab.
When he was finished he stood up and holstered the dagger. He climbed back out of the grave and picked up the casket beside it with ease. He gently set it back down on top of the slab with the lid still open before climbing back inside.
He laid into the padded interior and grabbed the open lid.
“Back to it then. I fucking hate being a Warden,” he said, slamming the lid shut with him inside.
The graveyard’s attendants discovered the grave the next morning. After careful inspection, they refilled the freshly dug hole and planted fresh grass over the surface.
Nighttime security was doubled around the grave and an investigation was launched to find the perpetrators who had desecrated it.
The case remains unsolved.
Thanks for Reading! Here’s Your Musical Pairing
Listen to this after reading. Like pairing a glass of wine with dinner.
WHOA you have seriously outdone yourself with the voiceover! Not only that, but the story was insanely interesting as well!
Hehe. Charles was so callous. The two men die and he says well that was a waste of time and tries to leave. What a jerk. Haha. It made the ending very satisfying. Thank you for sharing.