Thread: Cue Thunder

Mr. Hale and Mr. Bourg both jumped when the unexpected glimpse of a light flaring into existence caught their wandering eyes. It burned a ways away from them, between the two trees Everhett had insisted he heard the noise originate from. At first the two men stood shocked, not expecting anything to come of Mr. Hale's questioning. But this was far more unsettling. They had not received an answer, and the fire had seemingly burst into existence. Javier I believe we should turn back Mr. Hale's voice shook along with his grip on the valet. But sir, look- Indeed, there seemed to be a fire lit, casting light between what looked to be an opening in stone walls. My uncle's grave! Surprised, Mr. Hale shouted and started for the monument, pulling Mr. Bourg along behind him. Weaving through the trees towards the light, his eyes alighted on the fallen lantern, it's fire eating the grass beside it. They stopped, Mr. Hale's wide eyes sweeping over the entrance to the tomb and the statues surrounding it. Javier, look at this place My uncle was such a strange man. He grabbed the lantern from Mr. Bourg, taking a close look at one of the roman statues. He flicked it's stone nose. Hah, look, he was so damn fond of these things I wonder if he had them watch him as he slept. Mr. Hale laughed at his joke, trying to chase off his previous fear and the fact that the circumstances were so strange. He stepped to look closer at one of the skeleton figures, wrinkling his nose, God, Javier this is too strange. The something clicked down onto the stone it sat upon. He looked down, rosary beads A broken rosary. A bad omen. What's this? He brought his lantern closer to the ground, looking at the footprints in the muddy grass. Footprints sir. Perhaps you scared off some grave robbers? Mr. Bourg offered as a sort of comforting scenario for his obviously rattled employer, though he was growing uneasy as well in the heavy atmosphere. Sir, it's growing late he tried to retain his even tone, but his words were slightly rushed, Would you like to return in the morning? No, Everhett said, straightening. I'll say my piece now Where's the opening? They followed the light into the tomb, Mr. Hale's mouth dropping open. Javier had been right! There had been grave robbers- his uncle's coffin unearthed and half out of it's hole! Sir, look. Mr. Bourg bent, picking up a clipboard near the fire at their feet and patting out the flame that had begun to eat away at its corner. He stomped out the rest of the flames before looking at the paper under the light of their lantern. I can't read it It's not English, nor is it French.. Yes, yes. Javier, would you stop breathing so heavily? It's annoying. But sir I'm not Mr. Hale's eyes flicked up to his valet's, What? That's not you? Turning, he walked with a halting hesitation towards the coffin, spreading more light over it. There looked to be some sort of tube attached to it. What devilry is this?! Everhett cried, utterly distressed now. There was no mistaking it. Breathing . The sounds of breathing came from the tube, Javier, come here! Help me open it! His servant set down the clipboard, joining Mr. Hale's side and adding his weight to try to open the coffin.