Foundered

Jasper VI: Memories Come Alive

Trudging through the crypts of the ancient kings may have seemed like an ominous plight for Zac and Yara, but for Jasper it was mental torture.

Everywhere he looked, he saw hollow eyes staring at him, eyes of his ancestors, and their ancestors, and he stared back at them.

Every now and then he could see shadows dancing upon the old stones. Those shadows were of his ancestors, the kings and chieftains of yore who had made this kingdom their own.

"You're feeling troubled, no?" asked Yara, "to walk past your ancestors – must feel horrible."

He was right: Jasper could barely hold himself up. A part of him wanted to kneel upon the dry old stones and cry his heart out, but the other part held him firm for his ancestors to see. Outside he looked no different, but inside him a storm quelled, his heart raging onwards.

"Holy shit, it's past midnight," said Yara, "we should stop here and rest for today."

"Agreed," said Jasper, dropping his backpack and himself after it. "Let's rest here, this is the safest place in all the land anyway."

"And... what if the zombies come for us?" asked Zac.

"Don't worry," said Jasper, "nobody will be able to find us here, the crypts go for miles on the end, without a guide or our scent they'd much better take over all of Europe."

Zac chucked innocently at this thoughts, giving him a strange glance, almost as if trying to say something. He was no fool; he knew what Zac meant to do.

By this point, at least he had made it clear that he had a mild interest in guys, if he had interest in anything that didn't revolve around robots and battles, that is. But had Zac picked up these vibes? Jasper had never asked someone out, and he was never going to.

As he rested his head on the stone wall, his eyes closed themselves and head rested on the soft padding below. In a little over five minutes, his thoughts disappeared as he went off into the world of sleep, silence looming all around the mausoleum.

Until it was no more, and instead was replaced by a sinister voice, almost as if alerting them of its presence... Jasper was awake now, his horrors had come true.

"Yara, Yara!" he pushed Yara, but he did not awaken. "Zac?" no answer either.

"They must be tired," thought Jasper, "I should guard us."

And so he arose from his post, slinging his backpack over his shoulders and strapping his sword to his belt. He had no bullets, but the axe on his shotgun's stock could act as good as any other polearm.

"Who goes there?" he yelled into the long corridor, but only the darkness answered back, and again and again, until the echoes finally died out: whoever trudged it had no desire to answer. No ordinary zombie indeed, he reassured himself.

As he looked on and on, the darkness seemed to materialise. Although he could not see it, he could feel it: something lingered thereon, watching.

Now truly afraid, Jasper slipped out his flashlight and shone it into the darkness, but he saw nothing. Was it him hallucinating? No... there was something there, and now it had moved on. Disappearing from his sight, and appearing... behind him?

***

Looking over his shoulders, he saw something that truly horrified him: Jasper Tesla had seen many things living, dead, and undead, but this was unlike any of them.

Appearing out of the shadow into an almost translucent figure, there stood before his eyes what seemed to be a ghost, or a spectre of sorts. Green mist girdled up and around the tall figure which walked towards him ever so slowly, his face a confusing mess: bone wreathed in transparent green flesh, he could not tell what was bone and what was flesh.