23 Jan We Dug Too Deep

In the scientific community, there are far too many times when we have to give up and declare failure before we ever acknowledge success. And for almost six years, the dig site in the deep Argentine jungle appeared to be a perfect example. In fact, I was even one of the people who vocalized that we should be using our resources elsewhere. There were excavations in Saudi Arabia or Yemen that showed a lot more promise.

Yet, for some reason, the bigwigs back at the University I worked for insisted on pouring money into a lost cause.

I didn’t see the benefit of any of it until last week, when we got a transmission of jubilation.

“Headquarters, this is Research Station Eibon–do you copy?” the radio chirped.

“Go ahead, Site Eibon,” someone said as I listened at a distance.

“We have finally broken through the mantle and found our first evidence of structures here. Repeat, we have found it,” the scientist on the other end of the line said, their voice shaky with exhilaration. When I heard that news, I hopped over to comm and took over.

“Research Site Eibon, this is Surveyor Chief Ales. I understand you have something worth talking about?”

“Damn right we do. Get Bishop down here. This will make world records,” an older man’s voice responded.

I requested they send at least a scan of something to confirm their findings.

About an hour later, we got the picture of a tablet. It looked like it was in a shallow grave of some kind, but most of the skulls were either pulverized or turned to dust already. There were scratches and markings on the tablet. I immediately recognized the similarities between them and the dead languages we had discovered in Kuranes and Kadath. I did my best not to smile, and began comparing them to previous finds, hoping to confirm my suspicions.

Professor Gammell was one of the people back at the University who insisted a lost civilization could still exist deep in the heart of our unexplored jungles.

And now, after all of this time, he was about to have his day in the sun, I thought. God, he will be insufferable.

I turned off comms and gave my team a look and a shrug. “You heard them. If it’s legit, then the Director ought to know.”

By the next morning, it was confirmed that a new team of surveyors would be dispatched to the dig site to assist in the investigation, and I would be head of the team.

“Been a while since you got your hands dirty, eh?” Director Bishop asked.

“Knowing the Professor, I won’t have much work left to do by the time I get there,” I told him.

My team consisted of about seven researchers, two archaeologists and three excavators, and we left first thing the next day. It would be a three to four-day trip to reach the research site, and I definitely didn’t want Gammell to hog all of the glory.

Not that it mattered much, since his daughter was likely already singing his praises all across the scientific community. I sincerely hope all of this fanfare is worth it, I thought as I finished packing my things and made for the train station.

Reaching the site would be challenging. Direct routes to such remote locations simply didn’t exist.

We had local guides take us from the closest airport, trekking through the jungle in both sweltering heat and cold rain.

“By the time we reach them, there won’t be much left to dig up,” one of the excavators lamented. I wasn’t sure they understood how this whole process worked. Digs like this could take years. We had to be careful not to accidentally cause a collapse. Surveying the geological area would be first and foremost, and that would be where I came in.

If we could possibly get a good scan of the entire area where the first discovery was made, we would know what we were working with.

I did my best not to shake my head at how silly I sounded. I was excited for no reason; all we had as proof was Gammell’s words, and it was entirely possible he had been exaggerating simply to make us rush down here.

If that was the case, I would be furious, I thought, as we did our best to push through the uneven trails.

When we finally reached the dig site, I spotted one of the massive cranes we’d airdropped into the area and shouted out to whoever might be operating it that we had arrived.

There was a strange purple oil smeared on the nearby trees and rocks that seemed to kill some of the foliage and leave bizarre scars on the ground.

As we got closer, however, I could not help but notice that there were marks against the metallic door and steps, long sharp gashes like the kind a wild animal might make. As we moved even closer, I saw an arm dangling out the side of the crane, and I reached for the door, unlatching it and feeling my heart skip a beat as a worker collapsed out from the enclosed space.

We stood there, confused and startled, as we stared at the man, realizing that he had been attacked. Half of his face looked like it had been ripped off somehow, and his chest was covered in deep open wounds.

“Let’s head to the main excavation. We need to find out what happened here,” I told the team as we hurried from the crane toward the makeshift trail that led to the inner jungle.

It was here that I caught my first glimpse at the ruins they had found. A few explosives were still sitting at different intervals, perhaps unused or being set aside for a later structured collapse, but the entrance they found looked like it was a canal of some kind leading deeper into the earth. There was simply no way it was a rock formation. That much was certain, I realized, as I marveled at the smooth design.

“How old do you think it might be?” Anne, a microbiologist, asked as she noticed that there were small stone hatches that seemed designed to filter something for the canal. One of them was broken in half and had the look of a handprint on it. One with only three main fingers and a long indentation at the bottom, like a misshapen toad of some kind. Yet still distinctive enough that it looked like it had been placed there on purpose. Perhaps as a way to open and close the hatch?

“Ales, we’ve taken a look around the dig and can’t find anything. Not yet, anyway. It’s like everyone has up and vanished,” my security officer Sullivan informed me.

“Do a wider search. This place is big. They might be at a different section,” I told him as I paused and looked around to see how far down they had gone. Just by the evidence of sediment at my eye level, it looked like they had been pushing through for at least a week by the time they found this spot. After surveying the ruins further, we found additional canals with similar designs.

Suddenly, someone called my name from another section of the site, shouting that it was an emergency. I ran to meet them, a bit taken aback to see another large construction vehicle titled over upside down. There had been an accident, I realized, as I saw dirt and blood smeared everywhere near the stone. Behind the massive overturned vehicle, after the entire area had given away from the collapse, we saw an entrance.

Anne took one of the lanterns we had brought with us and then moved closer, trying to see into the dark, dank hole. The air felt dryer, stiff and bitter. It reminded me of the smell a mortuary might have after a fresh embalming.

“Do you think the rest of the team went down? To see how far they could get?” she asked.

We started into the hole, looking at the angled stone tunnels and wondering what sort of tools ancient man might have used to make this.

“The design is not dissimilar to the pyramids, narrow and cramped. This might be a tomb meant for royalty,” I said aloud as I noticed we had to bend over to make our way further. It was a common practice in ancient times to bury the dead in such elaborate places.

Sometimes, I wondered if our ancestors built these complex tombs to confound future generations, knowing we couldn’t resist exploring the unknown.

“Wait, do you hear that?” Anne asked as we paused. We had gone far enough that I couldn’t see a pinprick of light from outside in the jungle canopy, and I was struggling to figure out where the sound was coming from.

Then I realized it was from deeper in the tomb. It sounded a whisper, a low mumbling voice that was floating through the air. Honestly, it gave me the chills.

“Must be the wind,” I said nervously as we walked a little further down the corridor. The noise got louder; it wasn’t just a whisper. It sounded like someone in pain–and the noise was accompanied by footsteps.

Both of us stopped in our tracks, holding our lanterns up as the sound got closer. There was someone in the dark not but a few feet from us and both of us were as stiff as statues until the stranger stepped into the light.

I recognized Professor Gammell immediately, but his eyes were filled with dread. And I noticed his left arm was covered in some kind of dark, slimy substance. He looked at me and attacked, pushing me to the stone wall, and Anne shouted in alarm.

I shook back, screaming for him to let go of me as we fought there in the cramped space.

At last, he relented and stumbled back, his eyes glistening with confusion.

“Wh–what has happened? How are you… here?” he muttered.

“We got your transmission a few days ago, Professor. Please calm down and explain yourself,” I insisted. The other man was clearly delusional. He was mumbling something about the transmission and then collapsed to the ground, trembling. He also started spouting numbers over and over. Coordinates of some kind, I realized as Anne and I helped him to his feet.

“We need to get him out of here!” I shouted. I grabbed my radio and demanded that a medical team meet us near the entrance, only to discover there was strong static blocking our communications down there.

We dragged Gammell out, and I ordered CPR as soon as the nurse arrived.

About an hour later, he was stable in a tent near the outskirts of the dig site.

“Something terrified him, almost to the point of a panic attack,” Sullivan remarked and added, “We checked all around the area by a five-mile radius. Still no sign of other survivors. Although, we did find three more corpses, all with signs of burns and lesions and scars.”

I made sure we had come prepared, I thought. But now, this whole thing felt like one big mistake, and I would find a way to fix it. Or so I hoped. It also felt like time was running out.

“Fifteen minutes. Fan out. Report anything unusual. Watch for wildlife,” I said as I bent over to find anything that the man had brought from down there. His hands were covered in soot.

“What happened down there, Professor? What’s made you so afraid?”

For a moment, it looked like he dared not to speak. Perhaps he thought that if he refused to give us answers, the horrors he had witnessed would not be real.

“We were digging near the south trench, and I knew we were close. The east vestibule was already in sight, but it wasn’t a good entryway. Whatever built this clearly didn’t intend for humans to find it. I realized that when I saw the canals. You saw them too, eh? They are designed to filter out the air and allow liquid breathers to survive in this enclosure. It would seem that this was once a proud underwater kingdom; that is my theory. And once we found our way into that dark abyss, I confirmed it. I thought there would be no signs of life after all this time. How could there be? In a place buried and forgotten, nothing could survive. But while I took into account that nothing could live down here, I failed to understand there are types of death we are not privy to. We that walk here on this earth believe that is all there is–but those Saurian beasts are death incarnate, shambling to spread their plague to the surface.”

He grabbed my face, gripping it hard. I was certain he might try to peel my skin off.

“You must seal it again. The accident opened a way for the plague to spread, unimpeded. The crew was infected in hours. The spores–they spread through the rocks! The very air around you is infected. Leave this place! Destroy it all and never look back!”

I turned toward one of my own crew, coughing profusely, realizing that Gammell might be right about his rants. What had they stumbled into?

Were we too late to stop this?

Gammell also began to cough up blood as we moved closer to the communications tower. Meanwhile, my security chief had just returned and confirmed none of the equipment was working.

“That strange oily mess we saw on our way into this area, it’s up there too. All over the place,” Sullivan told us. He looked scared.

He wasn’t telling me everything.

“What else was up there? Out with it!” Anne ordered.

“It would seem the dig crew were quarantining themselves up there, sir. Most of them are dead, but there is one— I wouldn’t use the word ‘survivor,’ honestly, because… god, it’s so messed up.”

“Enough. Lead the way. Anne, I need you to stay here and make sure the Professor gets medical attention!” I barked.

Sullivan made the sign of the cross and led me to the tower, pushing the door open for me to smell the putrefied death within.

As soon as I saw the corpses, all huddled together as though either trying to shelter or kill one another, it was difficult to ascertain which; I realized that my security chief had been holding back a lot more than expected.

All of them looked like they had either been disemboweled or had attempted to mutilate one another in such a fashion. Their hands had been woven into each other’s abdomens or backsides–their bone, skin, and organs torn apart–tying the corpses into an unusual knot formation. It reminded me of how one might come across the tails of rats wound together if they were caught in a trap, and it made me wonder how these people spent their final moments suffocating and struggling.

Then I spotted the survivor, or rather, I heard them. It was a low wheeze over in the corner, a shriveled-up older woman hunched against the ground with her back firmly against the wall.

I saw the reason for her labored breathing was because her chest was exposed, ripped apart by her own bare hands. Between the dangling flesh, I saw fresh bone and blood also pushed aside, pulled out like confetti and strewn on the floor.

In its place, the woman had gathered stones around her, not as a protective barrier but as a final meal. She would weakly pick up the stones one by one and push them haphazardly into her body. No matter what was there, whether vital organ or not, she shoved the rocks into her open wounds, repeating the same phrase over and over:

“Maw of Flesh and Endless Darkness, open wide and buried alive. Into the ground, they hid from its mouth… Now opened and hungering for life… Seal the hole… Seal it…”

“My god,” I said, trying to comprehend how all of this fell apart in mere days since we contacted them, “they did this to themselves.”

“Do you believe what Gammell said… about the lizard creatures below? Could it be that there is a form of death that can act in a sentient manner?” one of my researchers asked as they examined the corpse amalgamation to the left.

“Given what we see here, anything is possible. We should make a report to the Director and then rendezvous at the nearest outpost. We can’t stay here. Quarantining the area would be the safest option until we can determine whether anything can be salvaged,” I said as I walked away from the old woman. She wheezed, repeating the same phrase again.

“Sir… perhaps we should give her a merciful death? Surely it is pure hell to be doing this to herself?” Sullivan asked.

She wheezed and hacked up blood, barely sputtering, “Must live. Death is how it spreads. Keep… keep him alive, or it will be too late for all of you.”

We warily exited the tower, confused and frightened by her words. Did she mean the Professor? Was he also infected? Why had he not acted as insane as the others?

I looked down the hole where the old man had stumbled out, trying to pinpoint where Anne had taken him.

Then, I saw the fresh blood stains that trailed into the darkness.

“Oh my god, the Professor must have Anne!” I shouted as I ran to the pedestal below. Sullivan was right behind me, ordering a few men to grab their guns as we rushed to the dark corridor.

“Sir, this is clearly a trap. You heard that woman. Gammell must be luring us in there to unleash whatever else is still buried,” he told me worriedly.

“We can’t leave her behind either,” I insisted, igniting my lantern and hurrying down the cramped space.

As we hurried inside, I tried to call out to my colleague, but my security chief cautioned me, “We mustn’t alert Gammell to our position. We should turn down our lanterns, too.”

With the lights down, it was difficult to see where we were going, so I kept close to the walls.

As my fingers slipped across the bricks, I felt indentations –scars as old as this world itself–and something about them seemed familiar. Holding the dim light toward the markings, I realized there was another form of the dead language. This one was different and certainly more animalistic. But something about them demanded my attention, insisting I go further into this abyss to see what nightmares awaited.

We were almost on our bellies, crawling forward toward what looked like a blinding light.

A furnace, perhaps. It felt like we had gone for miles, and I was so thirsty, but I could hear screams. Anne was close by.

Finally, we reached a subterranean cavern with upside-down structures that revealed these aquatic people were mostly isolated and possibly had spent their whole lives here.

Amid the structures, I saw Gammell standing next to what looked like a bold, bright, miniature sun, which burned everything within the vicinity of the strange, secluded ruin.

He was reaching toward the endlessly spiraling star, his hand completely burned off and revealing a skeleton covered with that purple oil. And he was holding Anne toward it, forcing her to gaze on it.

“Behold the chasm to another life. Another death. This is just one such gateway. I have seen endless possibilities! Infinity demands that we must suffer all the same,” he babbled as Sullivan raised his weapon and aimed for his head.

“Anne, get ready to run!” I told her. Her eyes were filled with tears, bloodshot with that purple oil streaming down her face. What had she seen? What was on the other side of this supposed portal?

Sullivan made the shot. The bullet ripped through the professor’s head and froze just as it exited his cranium in the front. Some unseen force held the broken pieces of bone and sinew and blood altogether, pushing them back into his exposed head.

Then it flew backward, straight toward my security chief and into his chest. I staggered backward and looked as blood pooled in his chest, causing Sullivan to collapse in shock.

Then, the undead form of Gammell laughed as he tossed Anne straight into the star. All I heard was her screaming as her body turned to ash, and I joined in yelling, watching as strange creatures slithered out of the stones.

“You should never have come! Never! Now you will always be here!” the professor screamed. The creatures were half-fish, using vibrations and noises that no human could ever produce. With grotesque, humanoid forms twisted with crustacean-like features, they skittered toward the star, feasting on the spoils. Professor Gammell’s body turned into spores, pushing their way toward me as the rest of my team hurried to escape the ruins.

We didn’t dare look back or imagine the endless deathless creatures–all of them screaming and angry–that now crawled through the earth to us.

We made it out to the main site, and I ordered my team to ignite the charges. We would sink this place back to the oblivion it came from.

The explosions ripped through the ground and destroyed the stones as we watched from a distance. I could see the saurian trying to race and escape and being buried. How long would they continue to be trapped there? Had they simply been in stasis this entire time and waiting for a release?

There were many questions I couldn’t answer. But as we departed the research site, I forced my team to agree on the same narrative:

We found nothing. Professor Gammell and his team were ashamed of their lack of progress and disappeared into the jungle. The University would be told that the jungle was a lost cause, a money pit.

I pray they believe us and don’t dig again.

For those crawling deaths will still scratch at the dirt, desperate to fulfill their otherworldly purpose.