The Tomb of Terror

I can hear my own breathing inside my helmet as I watch the red dust clouds boil across the horizon and hide the sun and moons from my sight. The whispering hiss of my re-breather circulating the oxygen-helium mixture through my helmet is lulling me towards eternal sleep. I trudge my way through the thick carpet of dust that lies before me, a willing testament towards the first men to have ever walked across the face of this big Martian landscape. My footsteps here will be recorded here in this carpet of dust until it is blown away by an occasional dust storm.

I am headed towards the only sign of civilization on Mars, and I am hoping that I may be able to prevent the terror that I know from striking down the handful of scientists and explorers that call the dome their home away from home. Maybe we can get into one of the escape craft and get away from the surface before death finds us. Even if we cannot escape, maybe we can warn others of the lurking madness that lies beneath the surface of this horrible place and save a few lives, if not our own.

The dome that houses the explorer station is now slowly coming into sight before me, and the shimmering dome can now be seen through the dust. That means that I will be there in an hour, and the lulling hiss of the re-breather is still enticing me to sleep. But to sleep now is to die. IF not by asphyxiation, then by the madness that must surely be following close on my heels, although I cannot see any evidence of the inevitable pursuit when I turn around. The dome is small, but it is well stocked and populated by some of the best brains on the entire earth, although that did not save my companions from their terrible fates. The others at the station may think that I am mad, but madness can only be a blessing after what I have just witnessed. I must tell my story and save as many lives as possible. I will begin at the beginning and maybe by the time that I have finished, the terrible ordeal will be over, one way or the other. It cannot matter much either way.

Although I have no science background, I am from a rich and powerful family. However, which one has no bearing upon the terrible situation that I now face, except for the irrefutable fact that my family managed to acquire me a berth on the first research ship to Mars. We are here to map out locations for a possible human settlement, although I must now say that Mars would be best left if it were to be totally overlooked for any future development. But I am getting ahead of myself here, and I must continue with my narrative, for there is but little time to prevent tragedy from occurring in this accursed place. I had been attached to the science team as a hauler, for I have a large physique, making me capable of carrying the more heavy loads. I am fairly smart, for I scored well in all of my school subjects. The lowest score achieved being a distinction in modern political theory. I am also agile enough to handle almost any obstacle in my path. That is how I got onto this expedition, and that is how I met poor Professor Malcolm, who died with Doctors White and Murphy, as well as the unfortunate Miss Petersen, who I admired very much for her talents with archeology.

We were the five who set out at dawn this morning for what would be a routine investigation of one of the canyon floors that run near the camp for its' suitability to carry water to a proposed site for a colony. Professor Malcolm was the head of the expedition, and he was an expert in geology, along with Doctor White, who was there to collaborate and correlate the findings of Professor Malcolm. Doctor Murphy was an Engineer, who was to explore the possibility of transmitting water along the canal. Miss Petersen, who I understand was working on her doctorate when she was invited to on the expedition to Mars, had only come along to "Get out of the damned dome and enjoy a stroll around the beautiful scenery." And finally, me, to carry the expensive and awkward equipment that the scientists couldn't carry themselves. That was out party when we left soon after the sun pushed his weary head over the horizon, and now I am that party as it heads back to the dome to give warning of approaching death.

It took us two hours to traverse the open Martina Landscape to the canyon, and the two geologists were quick to ascertain that the canyon was not stable enough to carry water for long. Doctor Murphy was quick to confirm that he felt the same. We were getting ready to leave by re-packing the scientific equipment when Miss Petersen made the discovery that was to lead to the present situation.

Miss Petersen exclaimed and pointed down at the floor of the canyon. Presently we had all seen the pair of white columns, flanking an opening that had been cut into the face of the canyon. My companions were very curious by this opening, which Miss Petersen explained, had been cut into the rock by tools. On the other hand, I could only feel a sense of dread while looking at those two columns, and I could only think of flight. My companions had decided to climb down the to the mysterious opening, and I reluctantly agreed to follow them into the opening. We started to unpack the equipment that we would need for the descent to the canyon floor.

The descent down to the canyon floor was simple, and did not worry anybody as we climbed down the steep slope, with me trailing a rope that I had anchored behind me to help ease the scientists' descent. Once we had reached the canyon floor, my feeling of dread mounted with each shaky step that I took. The others didn't notice my reluctance, but rather seemed more eager to enter the cave that was now visible behind the pillars.

Before I go any further, I guess that I should describe these pillars, and the horror that they seemed to heap upon me. Both pillars appeared, form the top of the canyon to be made of some special mineral, but on closer inspection, they showed themselves to be made of polished bone. From what kind of animal, I could not even venture to guess, but they had the singular property of appearing to be enlarged human femurs. I could now feel the cold sweat that drenched me and the shakes that seemed to envelope my body. I could also see, if I looked hard enough, small-engraved figures, that I could only see as small weather worn silhouettes, and even then I could not be sure of what I saw. They appeared to be human figures being dismembered by a larger figure, of which I could not discern anymore that a few indistinct lines.

The others by now had turned on their torches, and started to explore the inside of the cave. I followed, more from the fear of being left alone than anything else. As we explored through the cave, I distributed a few flares to help us see. The others, and Miss Petersen in particular were keen to have this place thoroughly searched. And I could only keep from losing control of my senses as we progressed through empty halls. We stepped into a large chamber, and I almost threw up my reconstituted breakfast.

What was in that chamber still brings bile to my throat when I think about it now. There were hundreds of what could have been human skeletons spread around the room in a disorderly fashion. Some had been suspended by the impaling of their heads on sharp steel spikes driven high into the walls. Others had been strewn about the floor as if there had been some kind of stampede. However, there was one thing that left me worried, not one of the skeletons was intact. Some had been dismembered; and some had just been torn to pieces. This scene of death awed the others, but they showed no signs of fear. Instead, they seemed to be intent on opening the doors that were at the far end of the chamber. It was about this time that my survival instinct kicked in, and I started to back away in the direction from which we had come.

The others had meanwhile managed to open the doors, and there exclamations of rapture, followed by the sound of grating stones. I had turned around and I was nearly out of the chamber of skeletons when screams made me turn around. I swear that what I saw unfolding behind me, I never want to see again. I could see Professor Malcolm's body thrashing on the floor, beheaded, while Doctors White and Murphy were trying to drag themselves towards me, their legs had been crushed by some monstrous force. I could hear Miss Petersen's screams, and I looked to where she was struggling in what appeared to be the hand of some gigantic creature, which held her by her hands above its' head, and was slowly devouring her.

Miss Petersen's last, stifled scream galvanized me into action. I back away from the beast that had killed the energetic young student, and had now set upon Dr. White, the geologist. I turned and ran for the exit.

Now, as the dust storms rage across the horizon, I run as fast as my tired legs allow me to. The re-breather is slowly lulling me into sleep, but I know that to sleep now would be fatal. Not only to me, but also to the other scientists who know nothing of what hides below the magnificent surface of Mars.

The only thing that I can think of is the safety of my fellow man, for this beast has ruled the lives of men before, and will do so again, now that his tomb has been opened and desecrated. maybe he only wakens for short periods of time, but I know that humans can never roam the surface of Mars while this horror is free to roam and corrupt.

I am at the dome now, and I must tell them of what approaches, and try to save as many lives as possible. God help us all.