webnovel

Graveyard Residents

George Dickman is a perfectly normal person. Well, he would be perfectly normal if he didn't turn any living to dust with a mere touch. He decided to run away when he got beef with his father who seemed to hate him since birth. Four days later, he became homeless and that’s when he crossed paths with Diego—a graveyard resident. Danger lurks on the adventure he was gonna take with his newly found companion: pirates; warlocks and witches; undeads and assassins; and so much more. The first step to doing all these is to acquire a graveyard residency which is by no means an easy task. And in the process of doing so, he found himself tied to an altar made of disgusting stuff, about to be sacrificed to the dark powers by a cult of the ancient tomb. A first work of Riley_23.

Riley_23 · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
33 Chs

Cult of the Ancient Tomb

Where could have George gone indeed? For that, let's go back to when they realized they had taken the wrong path. And after he told Diego to go back.

The whole place felt eerie. With the huge purple trees and the squishy ground and the pearl-white fog that shrouded the area.

Then something poked his shoulders. He turned around. There was an old woman who wore a tattered gray robe holding a dowsing rod. She was grinning at him and there was something hungry about her eyes. He didn't like it and so he took a step back.

He wanted to tell Diego about this strange woman but before he could do just that, he realized he couldn't move a muscle and that there was a smoke that circled by his feet. It had a nasty shade of green.

Then before he knew it, he started to feel light-headed as the world spun around him. Last thing he saw was the old woman's face shifting to one side in a grotesque manner as she grew another face—also grinning.

And when he woke up, he found himself bound atop a stone platform. He tried to wriggle around to free himself but the rope was so tight and so he gave up on the idea. Instead, he scanned his surroundings. Tried to think of a way to get out of there as soon as possible.

"I wouldn't think of anything funny if I were you," said the voice above him. It belonged to a woman. He looked up and saw another person in the same situation as him. "Like, say, thinking you could escape here or some."

"Uh, from what I can see. Aren't we fucked?"

"Very fucked," she said. Sarcasm laced her voice.

Anyone who thinks they're fine after they see what surrounded them is definitely insane in George's opinion. After all, just beside him, a little further to the left were three human skeletons. On the other side were more disgusting stuff like dying worms and rotten foods.

The place had a funny smell to it. A type of smell that drills a hole to your nostrils into your brain. A type of smell that meant business.

"How long have we been here?" George asked.

"Hmm. You? Not more than an hour ago. Me? Two days."

George was surprised. "Two days? But you seemed… fine though?"

The woman let out a dry deprecating laugh. "Heh! If you think a starving woman is fine then you're free to think however you like."

"Oh! I'm sorry."

"No, really. They tried feeding me but stopped after I spat it out on their face. You see those abominations over there? They tried feeding me those. And only an idiot would eat those."

George stared at the rotten foods again. And he suddenly had the urge to throw up. What he thought was food were actually roasted ogre's heads. Three of them. The other two had their eyes closed. But the last had his eyes open. And he had the look of someone who bravely fought till the end. A type of vigor seldom seen these days.

"He seemed nice though," said George.

"Who?"

"The ogre."

"You're crazy." Then they became silent.

One second. Two. Three.

"But we're still fucked though."

"Yeah. Very fucked," said George. Then he thought for a while before saying, "Say, can you help me remove my gloves?"

"Huh? I don't think I can move very much though. Why?"

"Just because."

The woman sighed. 'Better than do nothing,' she thought. And so she helped.

"While you're at it, tell me what you observed for the last two days you were here. Ah! Be careful not to touch my hands directly."

"Why?"

"Just because."

She rolled her eyes at him and said, "You're weird, you know? Why don't you tell me your name?"

"Yeah. I get that a lot. Just call me George."

"I see. Kristina. Just call me Tina."

"I see."

She told him everything. How she was caught after she was separated from her team. That she's attending the Hunter's Academia and as a group project, they had to go to the dragon's lair to ask the ancient dragon some questions about the past. And all her observations for the last two days. And how her last attempt to escape had failed miserably. She told him all. And George listened to all of them.

"Cult of the ancient tomb, huh. Haven't heard of that." George tried to recall the Phulas' general knowledge that Diego briefed him on their way to Strawford Town. But nothing came to mind.

"Ha?! You're tripping are you?" She said, unbelieving. "No, you ain't tripping." She took her words back after she saw his face.

"And we're all alone until tonight. And that we're doomed once they caught the third person because according to you, they only make sacrifices of three. These skeletons over here might be the proof of that."

"Uh, well, I'm glad you're fast to understand."

Then George took a deep breath. "I think we can escape tonight," he said. "But I need your help, Tina."