The plane was a hollow beast, its belly nearly empty. I sat rigid and the hum of the engines seeped into my skull like a dull ache. The cabin was awash in a sickly yellow glow from the accent lighting spanning the cabin. My fingers dug into the armrest, tracing the frayed threads as if they could tether me to the memory of last week's graduation. Caps soared against the gray Idaho sky, my mother's trembling smile, the crisp diploma in my hand. But that felt like a lifetime ago, swallowed by the dark expanse beyond the window, where clouds churned like a restless sea. I was bound for Africa, a continent I'd only touched in dreams, and the weight of it pressed against my chest.
A rustle beside me broke the spell. Marsha, my mentor, leaned closer, her graying brown hair spilling over her shoulder like ash caught in the wind. Her face was a weathered map of creases, her eyes sharp despite her age. "You're going to love Africa, Tawnie," she said, her voice warm but edged with something I couldn't place. I swear there was a tremor, maybe, or a secret. "The colors, the life—it's like nothing you've ever seen."
I nodded, forcing enthusiasm past the knot in my throat. "I've been dreaming about this mission forever. Helping people, building something real—it's what I've always wanted."
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "It'll change you. Mark my words."
I turned back to the window, the darkness outside a mirror to the unease coiling inside me. I was exhausted–barely able to keep my eyes open. But sleep was hardly an option. Four years since I started seeing the twisted symbols, sharp and ancient, glowing in the corners of my mind. They were back now, faint against the glass, and I shut my eyes to banish them. But they lingered, a whisper of something waiting.
The plane lurched as it kissed the earth, and the African heat slammed into me like a fist when I stepped onto the tarmac. The airport was a maelstrom. Voices clashed in a dozen tongues, and the air was thick with sweat and diesel. The fluorescent lights buzzed like trapped flies. Marsha guided me through the chaos, her steps sure, until we reached a cluster of people from the Wonderguild Foundation. Their uniforms were crisp, white with gold badges that glinted like teeth, their smiles too eager, too polished. I forced a nod, my skin prickling as they ushered us into a small room off the terminal.
The space was a coffin of peeling plaster and stale air, the panels overhead spitting light in fits. People milled about, waiting for the bus to the campground, their murmurs a low hum. I sank into a chair, Marsha beside me, and my gaze snagged on a young woman across from us. Her blonde hair spilled over her shoulders like molten gold, catching the dim light. She looked up, her blue eyes locking onto mine with a flicker of recognition.
"Hey! You're Tawnie, right? From the blogs?" Her voice was steady, slicing through the room's drone.
"Yeah," I said, offering a hand. "Nice to meet you."
"Karylina Ulrich," she replied, her grip firm, warm. "Call me Karlie."
Marsha fished a crumpled list from her bag, her finger tracing the names. "Karylina Ulrich… you're under my mentorship too, alongside Tawnie."
Karlie's lips curved into a grin, and I felt it echo on my own face. In this alien place, she was a tether—a piece of America I hadn't known I'd crave.
A month dissolved into dust and sweat. The town we built clawed its way out of the earth, a fragile skeleton of timber and stone, each plank a testament to our blistered hands. The locals' gratitude fueled me, but exhaustion gnawed at my edges, and I saw it in Karlie too—her laughter thinning, her eyes glazing over. One evening, as the sky bled purple and gold, she found me outside our tent, her silhouette sharp against the dusk.
"We need a break," she said, her voice low, laced with a spark. "A retreat. Just us.
I shot her a look of intrigue. "Is Marsha okay with it?"
Confidently, Karlie folded her arms and offered a grin. "She didn't even argue.
The cabin we claimed was a crooked relic, its wooden bones groaning under a canopy of green. Inside, the air was cool and musty, a balm against the chaos we'd fled. Karlie sprawled in a chair, her fingers brushing a faded map on the wall. "Did you know we're near a forbidden site?" she murmured, her tone conspiratorial. "An ancient temple, out there. They say it's cursed."
I watched her, the glint in her eyes kindling something reckless in me. "You want to go, don't you?"
She smirked, sharp and wild. "Yeah. But we'd have to wait till dark. Too many eyes otherwise."
The sun began to set draping the world in ink. The cabin's window a cold pane against my forehead. Crickets sang a jagged lullaby, and the jungle beyond rustled with unseen life. Karlie slid beside me, her presence a quiet heat. "We've barely talked," she said, breaking the stillness. "This mission's been a damn whirlwind."
I laughed, brittle and tired. "Tell me about it. It's swallowed us whole."
She tilted her head, studying me. "Where'd you come from, Tawnie? Before this?"
"Idaho," I said, the word heavy with frost and pine. "Me, my mom, my grandma."
"Dad?" She asked.k
I stared distantly for a moment, rearranging the question into my own. "I never knew him."
She nodded, her gaze softening. "My dad was an oceanographer. Brilliant guy. I wanted to chase the deep like he did."
"Was?" I asked, catching the past tense.
"Yeah." Her voice cracked, just a little. "Died in the ocean when I was a kid. Lost to the waves."
"I'm sorry," I said, my hand brushing hers.
"It's fine." She shrugged, but her eyes betrayed her. "Mom's the real kicker. Kicked me out a while back. Said I was straying from God."
"What does that mean?" I pressed, though I suspected.
"She's not a fan of homosexuals," Karlie said, her tone flat, unflinching. "Guess I'm too sinful for her."
Anger flared in me, hot and sudden. "That's awful. I'm sorry I asked."
"Don't be," she said, waving it off. "It's done. Let's focus on what's out there."
The jungle swallowed us that night, its branches snagging our clothes like greedy hands. My flashlight carved a trembling path through the dark, illuminating vines that writhed like serpents, shadows that danced on the edge of sight. The air was a wet shroud, pressing against my lungs, and every snap of a twig jolted my pulse. Karlie moved ahead, fearless, her blonde hair a faint beacon in the gloom.
We found the pyramid in a quarry choked with overgrowth, its stones blackened by centuries of neglect. The entrance gaped like a wound, and we descended, the stairs slick and uneven beneath our boots. The air grew colder, heavier, the dim light of my torch licking at walls etched with symbols—my symbols, the ones that had haunted me since I was eighteen. They pulsed faintly, alive, and my breath caught, sharp and ragged.
The chamber below was vast, a tomb of stone and secrets. The text sprawled across the walls, glowing with a sickly sheen, clawing at my mind. "This… I know this," I whispered, my voice trembling.
Karlie turned, her face half-shadowed. "What is it?"
"The text," I said, stepping closer, my fingers hovering over the carvings. "It's been in my dreams. For years."
Before she could reply, the floor erupted. Light bled from the stone, liquid gold tracing lines and circles that wove into a decagram. The air thrummed, a low pulse that shook my bones, and a massive door groaned open at the chamber's far end, dust cascading like a dying breath.
"What the hell just happened?" Karlie breathed, her eyes wide.
"I don't know," I said, my voice barely a thread, "but we're going in."
The next room was a cathedral of shadow and stone, its walls a mosaic of symbols that shimmered with an unearthly glow. Karlie's boots echoed as she paced, her voice cutting through the silence. "What language is this?"
"It's ancient," I said, drawn deeper into the chamber. "Undiscovered. But I can read it."
She stopped, staring at me. "How do you know that?"
"I don't," I admitted, my hand brushing the wall, the symbols warm under my touch. "It's like it's part of me. They tell me."
At the heart of the room, an altar loomed, a stone orb perched on a pedestal like a dormant eye. Beside it, another pedestal stood empty, a void that hummed with absence. Karlie reached for the orb, her movements quick, careless.
"No, wait—" I started, but her fingers closed around it.
The orb blazed, a blue so fierce it burned the air. I staggered back, shielding my eyes as the light swallowed the room, a scream of brilliance that drowned my senses. When it faded, the orb was gone, vanished, leaving Karlie clutching empty air, her skin dusted with a faint shimmer.
"What did I do?" she gasped, her voice raw, trembling.
Before I could answer, the chamber shuddered. Voices—harsh, clipped—pierced the silence, followed by the staccato of boots. Soldiers flooded in, their rifles glinting like fangs, their uniforms dark and severe. They shouted in a language I didn't know, their faces carved from stone, closing in like a tide.
We were trapped, the weight of the unknown crashing down. The darkness I'd felt on that plane, the visions that had stalked me, had led me here, beneath the earth. As they seized us, dragging us into the night, I knew this was no end—just the beginning of a nightmare carved in forgotten words.