The Snake Scroll

  The darkness pressed in against the circle of light emitting from the lantern Minna held over her head. The queerness of the darkness unnerved her in the way it seemed to eat at the light, making the pool smaller than it should have been, but she shrugged it off and moved on. Odder things happened in the deep recesses of the temple's labyrinth-like underbelly, or so the stories told. Whatever happened she had to move on. Dawn would be breaking above and she promised her sister she would be back by midnight the following night. With the scroll, if she could locate it.

  The hall twisted and turned, slowly running deeper into the earth. Minna hugged the wall to her right, the opposite hidden in shadow. Openings along the wall lead to large rooms, some filled with storage boxes, others with assorted furniture or trinkets. One room she peered into was filled with dangling knives and suspended torture tables, blood stains splattered on the wood. After that Minna decided not to look in the rooms as she passed. She had a hard enough time pushing away the constant fear that tugged at her mind. The last thing she needed were reminders about what the temple's catacombs were used for.

  Sweat beaded on her forehead as she continued, the air becoming thick and muggy. That too she had to wipe off and ignore. It would only get worse, and according to her map, she had a long way to go before reaching the room she was looking for. She sighed, her shoulders weighed down by the burden she had been left with. The Prophet had said the scroll was important. "The only thing between us and death," he had told her. A mysterious man wrapped in a black cloak, the Prophet had appeared at the caravan only a week before, spouting warnings of the end of the world and tales of a sacred scroll. As she walked, Minna's mind returned to the old man's arrival.

  The traveling company Minna belonged to had made a rest stop in front of the dilapidated temple for a few days. A river ran along beside the hill that held the temple and the plant-life flourished in this area of the country, so the Circle decided that then would be a good time to stop and store up on supplies. They had hardly placed rocks behind the wheels of the caravans when an elderly man sporting a long, unkempt white beard on a grizzled face appeared within the camp. Blind and leaning on a weak walking stick, he appeared on the verge of death. Minna's sister, one of the members of the Circle, took him in. She fed him and gave him a place to rest, and all the while the man kept talking about the danger that lie before them. Minna's sister, and the rest of the company, didn't have much time to listen to the man's "crazy talk", but Minna did. She let the man - he simply called himself the Prophet - tell her stories; stories about how the sleeping demons would rise once again and how the scroll was the only thing that could save them from their inevitable doom. How a simple scroll could save the world Minna didn't understand, but she heard the urgency in the Prophet's tone. She knew that if no one else would listen to the Prophet, then she herself had to take action. Using what she had learned so far in her writing lessons, she jot a note down for her sister, telling her that she was searching for the scroll that would save humanity and that she would be back by midnight. She knew her sister would have a panic attack - Minna was only fifteen, much to young to be dating, let alone traversing the depths of an ancient temple - but it was something she had to do. The fate of the world rested on her shoulders, after all.

  With an absent hand she swiped back hair from where sweat had glued it to her forehead. Her ears twitched as they listened to the stagnant air around her, hoping not to catch sound of any noise. She couldn't imagine anything still living in the moldy halls, save for rats and bugs. The temple had fallen into neglect over a hundred years earlier, or so said the Prophet.. Who knew when the catacombs beneath had been abandoned. Once again she had to force herself to push those thoughts aside. If she began to ponder what uses the stone labyrinth might have served; or worse, why they had been abandoned...

  Minna reached a large opening that appeared to signal the end of the hall. Raising her lantern, she peered into the darkness before her. The light fell on a row of black bars, something akin to the jail cells she seen in the old tapestries that hung from the temple walls above. Stepping forward, she let the light penetrate deeper into the cell. Against the far wall lay a skeleton, the thin leg bone attached to a metal chain stretching from the wall. Minna shut her eyes and looked away. The hall turned off to the side, and Minna forced herself to follow it, ignoring the row of cells that ran along the walls. The corridor continued to twist and turn, spiraling deeper into what was unmistakably a dungeon.

  At the corner of one turn, Minna's eyes fell upon a pentagram drawn out in blood, blobs of melted wax tipping the points. A skull sat in the center, half shattered, the fragments scattered outside the circle. Minna nervously bit her lip as she scrambled away, the image burned into her mind. Minna had seen similar images in the old books of lost cults. What they did with such rituals was far from unsettling. As she moved, the feeling of watching eyes suddenly pricked her shoulder. She turned, frantically searching the darkness behind. The corridor was as barren as it had ever been. Nervously she glanced in the cells that stood either side of her. Both were also empty, save for a rusted metal chain in each. With a trembling sigh she attempted to push the feeling of invisible eyes off as she had done with so many hindrances before, but the prickling remained as she continued. In her imagination she could hear footsteps following behind. In her imagination. It had to be her imagination.

  Suddenly the hall ended, blossoming into a large cavern that appeared cut directly from the stone. The sound of water washed over her, momentarily pushing the thought of unseen eyes out of her mind. The Prophet had said that the scroll would be held in a room with a pool. Scanning the room, Minna took stock of her surroundings. Boxes were stacked in rows throughout the cave, the lines broken by old wardrobes or furniture covered by large, moth-eaten sheets. Her light touched only the tip of the ocean. Slowly she began to walk down the a row chosen at random, searching for the scroll. According to the Prophet it was located in a small, red box. It was as though the man had placed it there himself. She let her eyes slide over the boxes, searching. The light from her lantern flickered as she moved. The worry of running out of oil flashed through her mind, but she focused on searching. Nothing would matter if she didn't find the scroll. The world would end without it. She had to find it!

  As she reached the end of the row, she stopped, peering at the waters before her. Rock broke away into a large pool, the far wall unreachable by the small circle of light she held. Kneeling, she peered into the water, the stagnant, black surface reflecting her image back at her. Her mousy hair stood on end, matted as severly with sweat and dirt as her face. Her heart pounding, she attempted a small smile, and her reflection gave a weak grin back. For a second she thought she saw a pale face appear over her shoulder. Squeaking, she twisted her head, fear clouding her mind, but her eyes saw only the ends of the rows behind her. She glanced back at the glassy surface of the water for a brief moment before straightening.

  Row by row revealed nothing pertaining to the scroll. They held numerous other trinkets - a golden scale holding a gleaming ruby, a small leaf brooch trimmed with silver, an embroidered dress that looked like it would fit Minna perfectly - but none of it was what she needed. Her eyelids became heavy, the fatigue brought on by not sleeping in nearly twenty-four hours beginning to weigh on her. Another row turned up nothing. Watchers reappeared in between the boxes, eyes watching her every movement. Something was following her. She knew it. But she had to keep looking. The scroll must be found.

  Finally, sitting on a large box with a rusted metal rim, her search ended. A small, oblong red box with an elaborate pattern drawn on the top with gold fell across her vision. She bent over it, a small smile spreading across her face. Slowly she set her lantern down on the metal rim and picked up the box, holding it delicately in her grasp. This was what she had been looking for.

  With a shaking hand Minna pulled the top from the box. Inside sat an intricately carved ivory snake, it's body twisting around an old paper scroll. She ran her fingers over the ivory, marveling at the stunning craftsmanship, before closing the lid once more. The scroll was old - thousands of years, the Prophet had said - and she couldn't chance breaking it. She-

  Minna felt a cold hand rest on her shoulder. Spinning around, her eyes fell on a decaying, pale face before the sound of shattering glass echoed through the room. Darkness enveloped her. Her heart pounded, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She felt the icy grip twist around her throat. Frantically she tried to pry the bony hands from her neck, but they were surprisingly strong. A strangled scream escaped her lips as she felt her feet leave the ground. Blood pounded in her head.

  A whisper passed her ear, the voice reedy and cold. "They will... awaken." Minna felt her body weaken. She stopped struggling, falling limp in the creatures hands. Her eyes closed as death began to creep over her. In the back recesses of her mind she felt her side strike the floor, but all she could think of was her sister as her consciousness slipped into the eternal blackness.