Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-27416994-20170502162400

                       Mine!

This was the diary of Prof. Schmitt, a famous archeologist whose corpse was found weeks after writing his latest article, his back clawed horribly, his stomach ripped open, with his innards scattered on the ground. These are the entries found in his journal.

5/1/1946: “I was invited to a dig in Tibet, where they found a cave holding a sizable cache of ancient treasures, including a chest they want me to open. I feel personally thrilled to open such a find! I will take a three day flight to the dig site to meet them. I shall get packed posthaste!”

5/4/1946: “I’ve made it. They’ve shown me the chest. The chest is made from black wood, with ancient steel lining it. An odd lock keeps the chest shut. Four prongs… what an exquisitely unique lock! The locals have warned me that the box contains a cursed amulet guarded by a murderous spirit that drives the keeper of the amulet mad, then rips them apart. How ridiculous! A killer spirit guarding a simple pendant!”

“The chest was opened, and a thick cloud of black dust blew into our faces, irritating our skin, and making our eyes water. The pendant was beautiful, with a stone of onyx in the shape of a teardrop kept on a peg bail of wrought aluminium, with extensions resembling clawed hands. And the men who found it were so generous, they let me keep it. I shall keep it in a glass case.”

5/9/1946: “I keep seeing something out of the corner of my eye. It’s black in colour, with long arms and legs, with a ghastly smile, lined with vicious teeth. It seems like its keeps saying something, but no sound is uttered from its horrific maw. It’s probably just my imagination.”

5/10/1946: “ It attacked me . As I slept in my bedroom, it attacked me. As it turns out, this black being not only has long limbs, but sharp, curved claws like a bear’s. It ripped apart my duvet, trying to get to me, screaming “Mine! The amulet is MINE!”. But I kicked it off, ran to the kitchen and grabbed my skillet that i used to make omelets later, and ran back to my room, only to see that it was gone. How odd!”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">5/15/1946: “Five times. It has attacked me five more times since my last article. I don’t know how much longer I can handle this. It actually started speaking to me, whispering, “Mine. The amulet is mine. Give it back.” It won’t stop. It just won’t stop. I fear I’m going to my mind!”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">5/25/1946: “I can’t take it anymore. It won’t stop whispering and attacking me. I must end this. I lay on my bed, with no shirt, revealing my belly. It’s coming closer, and closer, and…”

<span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;color:rgb(0,0,0);font-weight:400;white-space:pre-wrap;">That’s where it ends. <ac_metadata title="Story idea. What do you think?"> </ac_metadata>