Ruins of the Phantasm

A flight from within the city grounds

To land in remote territory -

Has ensured that knowledge to seek

Will be found if sought with greed.

Flock of archaeologists, kits and brushes on their person.

Teeming with delight in having such a marvelous opportunity.

Remnants of lost ages would have light shown on them at last!

They surely couldn't mask their glee.

Many hours of jungle travel, stretching and enjoying the green.

Apes, Orangutans, birds, lemurs, all for the eye to witness.

Showed homage, almost, to the travelers as they made their way to their destination.

Many hours passed, and indeed they did arrive,

to the Ruins of Neviltis -

The last of its forgotten kind.

Four days of excavation persisted through swelling heat.

The forest's climate had proven resilient

And the flock was unaccustomed to its ways.

They had not made the discoveries yet that they had set out in order to find,

But the Chief of the herd said plainly, "Boys, just give it time."

On the fifth day of unrewarded work, Jared, the youngest, found a remarkable chime.

"Hey, guys! I think I found something!"

Uncovered from the nestled rubble and dirt it was.

Appalled and elated, the others came rushing over -

"Hmm, looks like some kind of . . key?"

The Chief seemed confused, as there was no lock for it to fit -

Or so they thought.

Later that same day, as digging and brushing continued,

A sheep decided to step away from its flock and work elsewhere.

On his way to the other side of camp, he walked over a seemingly flat surface.

Only to unmask the truth, and in the process break his leg.

The ground shook as he stepped in the middle, and trembled in a powerful roar!

For underneath the ground they walked was the mechanism to an ancient door.

Through much shock and talk, and precedented concern, every man hurried down that pit to check on the one named Walter, who had fallen down a good twenty three feet.

They arrived to their fellow dall, and realised they were late.

The door stood in front of them, massive and overbearing.

It was centered at the middle-side of this pit, against the furthest metallic surface.

As if in a mirage, Jared pulled from his belt the key he had found earlier that day,

To make his mark on history itself and made a subtle walk to the door.

"No!" The Chief berated. "Walter just fell and died! We have no idea what's behind that thing - Save it for tomorrow!"

But Jared ignored his mastermind, almost as if he couldn't hear him at all, and plunged the key into its socket.

Every man there, with sweat and awe, watched as the boy turned the instrument so tenderly to the left -

And ever so softly -

Click.

He pushed the massive door ajar, and took but a single step.

Moved by bravado, he summoned the nerve he had left.

What he saw was enough to chill,

What he heard was enough to break -

"For such transgressions 'ye mortal babes, thy lives I will gladly take!"

And Jared, vanished. Suddenly, whisked away.

Night was just neatly made -

No scream, no sound,

Only silence was abound:

And for knowledge, they made their trade.

In the blink of a human eye they were shifted through matter and time,

All to the last head each had duly arrived -

This, flock of little sheep,

In the place they sought to find.

"Welcome to my home, thou trespassing platoon -

I doth suppose this is thy home now.

Enjoy well the merits of salvation!

To be fed unto thy doom."

Only the reverberation of breath made sound, in this vastly empty crypt, riddled with stones and tombs -

Decrepit as were the minds of the men

That were overcome with vitriolic dread.

What plagued their sight was a begrimed figure,

Hooded with radiant eyes.

Cardinal shaded gems that could petrify a phantasm,

And they certainly were for their crimes.

The breath it exhaled was devoid,

It's skin a wrinkled white.

The image of death itself,

The reaper to reign their plight.

The Chief had watched and quivered, as the swine fell one by one, unable to speak or moan.

Surgical silence, the stillness of its limbs -

It could not be seen by mortal vision,

But its grin was surely there.

"I'm, - I'm sorry! I'll leave if you give me the chance!"

The last man said with a quaking voice.

Then Death gave a muffled chuckle,

As its hands in blood rejoiced.

"We remain hidden for good reason, ye who dare do not live -

Down in the hollows of our wake the sheep do not belong.

Though it arrives as no surprise;

We've been watching, all along."