Chapter Five: A Lesson in Grave Digging
The next morning, Thomas and I awoke to the sounds of birds chirping and the rustle of leaves. It was a far cry from the oppressive silence of the previous day, and it felt almost... cheerful. Today was the day we'd delve deeper into the mystery of Eleanor's death. But first, Thomas insisted on teaching me the finer points of grave digging.
"Every good gravekeeper needs to know how to dig a proper grave," he declared with a straight face, handing me a shovel. I couldn't help but notice that his eyes twinkled with amusement.
"Isn't this a bit... morbid?" I asked, staring at the shovel.
Thomas shrugged. "Gravekeeping is an art, my friend. And besides, you never know when you might need to dig up—or down—to find clues."
We started with a neglected corner of the graveyard where the graves were so old and weathered that no one visited them anymore. Thomas picked a spot and began to dig. I followed suit, though with considerably less enthusiasm.
"Why do I feel like I'm in a bad horror movie?" I muttered, plunging the shovel into the earth.
Thomas chuckled. "If this were a horror movie, you'd be the first to go."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I replied dryly, wiping sweat from my brow. "How did you get so good at this, anyway?"
"Years of practice," he said, tossing a chunk of dirt aside. "And a very bored childhood. You'd be surprised how many mysteries a graveyard can hold. And how much free time I had to find them."
As we dug deeper, Thomas regaled me with stories of his youth. Apparently, he'd spent countless hours in the graveyard, unearthing everything from lost jewelry to old love letters. His tales were hilarious and somewhat macabre, but they made the time pass quickly.
"Then there was the time I found a buried bottle of whiskey," Thomas said, grinning. "Aged perfectly. It was like finding buried treasure. Until I realized it was buried there by the town drunk who forgot where he'd hidden it."
I laughed, shaking my head. "I can't believe you've been doing this since you were a kid. I was busy playing video games and avoiding homework."
"Video games?" Thomas asked, puzzled. "What are those?"
I forgot for a moment that I was in a fantasy world where such things didn't exist. "Uh, never mind. Just a way to waste time and avoid real life."
Thomas raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. Instead, he leaned on his shovel and looked around the graveyard. "You know, Liam, this place isn't as creepy as it seems. It's full of stories, and every grave has a history. We're just the caretakers of those stories."
I looked around, seeing the graveyard in a new light. Thomas was right; there was a strange beauty in this place. Each grave was a testament to a life lived, full of memories and secrets.
"So, what's the weirdest thing you've found?" I asked, genuinely curious.
Thomas paused, a thoughtful look on his face. "Weirdest? That would be the time I found a coffin with no body inside. Just a note that said, 'Better luck next time.'"
I burst out laughing. "You're kidding!"
"Nope," Thomas said, grinning. "To this day, I have no idea what that was about. But it's part of the charm of this place. You never know what you'll find."
We continued digging, and after a while, we reached what seemed to be an old, forgotten crypt. The entrance was partially covered in dirt and overgrown with ivy. Thomas brushed off the dirt, revealing an inscription.
"Here lies... well, someone who's been here a long time," he read, squinting at the faded letters. "Perfect. This is where we start."
"Start what?" I asked, suddenly feeling a bit uneasy.
"Exploring," Thomas said with a mischievous grin. "I told you, every graveyard has its secrets. And this one might hold the key to understanding the dark magic."
We pried open the crypt's heavy door, and a musty smell greeted us. Inside, it was dark and damp, with cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. Thomas lit a torch, and we ventured inside.
The crypt was small but filled with old artifacts—broken pottery, rusted weapons, and tattered scrolls. It looked like something out of an Indiana Jones movie, only more decrepit.
"Why do I feel like we're going to find a mummy?" I whispered, half-joking.
Thomas laughed. "If we do, you can keep it. I've already got enough skeletons in my closet."
We carefully examined the contents of the crypt. Thomas found a rusty dagger and a scroll with indecipherable writing. I stumbled upon an old chest, locked and covered in dust.
"Check this out," I said, pointing to the chest. "Think it's booby-trapped?"
"Only one way to find out," Thomas said, handing me a crowbar. "You open it. I'll stand back here. Way back."
"Gee, thanks," I muttered, taking the crowbar. With a bit of effort, I pried the chest open. Inside, we found a collection of strange items—a black candle, a silver mirror, and a book bound in what looked like human skin.
"Okay, that's creepy," I said, shuddering. "Who binds a book in skin?"
Thomas nodded, equally disturbed. "Someone who's into very dark magic. This could be what we're looking for."
We carefully took the items out and placed them on a makeshift table. The book was filled with spells and rituals, many of them involving necromancy and other forbidden arts.
"This explains a lot," Thomas said, flipping through the pages. "Eleanor must have found this book and tried to use its magic. But she didn't understand the consequences."
I nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. We were getting closer to the truth, but the path ahead was fraught with danger.
Thomas closed the book and looked at me. "Ready to dive deeper into the world of dark magic?"
"Do I have a choice?" I asked, trying to keep the mood light.
"Nope," Thomas said, grinning. "But hey, at least we're in this together. And who knows, maybe we'll find more buried whiskey."
I laughed, feeling a bit more at ease. "Here's to grave digging and dark magic. Let's hope we find more laughs than curses."
As we left the crypt and made our way back to the cottage, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of camaraderie with Thomas. We were an unlikely duo—an ordinary guy thrust into a fantasy world and a gravekeeper with a knack for uncovering secrets. But together, we might just unravel the mystery of Eleanor's death and the dark magic that surrounded it.