Author: G.Gleason, Word Count: 716
Featured in Spooky Archaeological Story Moot: Live Stream – 2024
BARTON, MASSACHUSETTS, 1928
The whitish puff that appeared out of the fog was not from frozen breath, but was the
product of a White Owl cigar (3 for 20 cents!) The lumpen figure that smoked it was dressed in a
drab greatcoat that looked as if it had perhaps barely survived one of the Central Powers’ rougher
assaults, and an accompanying fedora had a sort of natural pleat in its brim from the abuse of
neglect.
As the figure passed through a pair of neoclassical columns, it muttered, in a woman’s voice,
“Did they forget to paint this place? It looks like a damn cemetery.”
Barton University’s Department of Anthropology was the sort of dust-smelling cave that
she’d imagined such places must be–though this cave had black marble floors that looked to be
considerably more expensive than the age-darkened bones and bits of old spears that they
supported. Stuffy little drawers labeled with yellowed cards gridded every spare bit of wall space
and corridors branched off to classrooms and offices from the central gathering of tables, where
artifacts waited to get a slot in the hallowed catalog.
A man with the age-related tonsure of true academics, who looked like he could be King
George’s own butler, met her while she was wading in the midst of the tables. His expression said,
“before she does any real damage”.
“Barton Eye. Cora Carey,” she said, extending the hand not holding her cigar. “The Scribe
runs the important stories. We run the interesting ones.”
“Theophilus Smith.” He then listed his degrees, at length, in a self-satisfied lilt.
“Ah. Well, Theo, I hear you fellas have come into a box that’s the bee’s knees.”
“It’s quite more than a ‘box’, madame. It’s a sarcophagus, of unknown make and entirely
sealed.”
“If you haven’t opened it, how do you know it’s a sarcophagus?”
He rolled his eyes fast enough to be in danger of snapping his optic nerves. “That’s why we
have departments of anthropology, Miss Carrey.”
The box(and it was a box, whatever the guy with the degrees said) was located in a locked
storeroom which had been cleared out entirely to house it. As might be expected, it was slightly
longer than a good sized man was tall. It was sheathed entirely in a layer of yellowed ivory which
had been carved with reliefs. There were also blocky shapes that could be writing.
The scenes depicted were the sort of thing Cora’s pop might have called “Satan’s own kinda
wicked.” Weird, misshapen figures performing rites of such graphic specificity as to make the
hardest of nuns renounce their vows in a sudden burst of existentialism. The lid was a gory
procession of human sacrifice(that is, if they even were human). Its very center bore a misshapen
ruby which passed for the final wounding of a terrified victim as the priest completed his work with
a jagged knife.
“I bet that rock’s worth some serious mazuma,” she murmured, idly rubbing it with her
thumb–only to immediately pull it away in pain. The stone felt hot.
“Are you quite all right, Miss Carrey?” asked Dr. Smith, with real concern.
“Yeah. My hand’s just a bit sore.”
“Ah.”
“So what are you going to do with the thing?”
Some vague primal instinct suggested that they burn the sarcophagus and throw the ashes to
the bottom of the deepest ocean trench they could find, and be happy about it. The sudden feeling of
unease which had welled forth after touching the ruby had not abated, and her head began to be
filled with visions from the pictures on the box, rendered in unfortunate realism.
“It will be placed with the other especially valuable items in storage until it can be
thoroughly studied.”
“Of course. You’re not going to open it are you?”
“Good heavens, no. That would destroy its integrity.”
“Good. Don’t. I’ve got a bad feeling about this one, doc.” The disgusting visions still churned
in Cora’s head.
The next day, Cora sat down to write. She didn’t entirely trust these university types to use
their own good sense when it came to a mystery. What would do it?
BARTON EGGHEADS FLUMMOXED ON HOW TO OPEN STRANGE PLAGUE BOX was
the headline she decided while finishing her last White Owl.
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