Dropping the shovel again, Allen coughed into his arm. His throat burned with dust as he hacked up whatever had snuck in.
I'm gonna be paying for this later,
he thought.
Should've brought some kinda cough medicine.
This was the first time he'd devoted himself to such a dig, and after two days of going straight down, he'd still not uncovered anything. Granted, there's only so much one man can do in two days, and he'd never been the most athletic person, but his 25-year-old physique was serving him well enough. Looking up, he saw golden rays of sun crossing overhead, illuminating the abandoned building surrounding the hole.
Must be getting late. I'll have to call it a day in another hour.
Grabbing the shovel, he set back to work, tossing as much dirt as he could straight out of the hole. If this went on much longer, he'd need to get a container of some sort and start lugging the dirt out. At just over six feet deep, not even his head was visible from the surface. Grunting, he devoted himself to digging, determined to make the most out of this last hour. His hands and shovel moved like a machine, shovelful after shovelful. Sweat covered his entire body and his muscles ached for rest. Not now, though. He should almost be—
With a roar, the earth underneath him gave way, like the maw of a creature opening to swallow him up. Allen cried out, grabbing for the sides of the hole, but the dirt gave him nothing to hold onto. A thousand images of his broken body and tragic headlines rushed through his head as he slipped into a freefall, dirt all about him. What a stupid way to die.
Luckily for Allen, the drop quickly came to a halt. His back and arm hit first, slamming into the ground with a dull thud. He yelled again, this time in pain, huddling over and clenching the arm he landed on. Slowly removing his hand, he lifted the arm to get a look at it. There was a nasty-looking bruise going all the way from just below his shoulder to past his elbow, but no skin was broken. He winced when he moved it the wrong way. Hurt like a bitch. He figured his back was in much the same state, but with it already being sore all day yesterday and today, it didn't bug him as much.
Realizing the place he had dropped into was much larger than the hole he fell through, Allen lifted his head and looked around. There wasn't an abundance of light leaking through the hole overhead, but it was enough to make out the boundaries of the room. It was a large, square room, big enough to be a dining hall or something similar, he guessed. The walls were mostly plain, but he could see the shadows of some strange markings in the middle of the walls all away around the room. There were two doorways, though one had long since collapsed from the looks of it. The other, however, was clear, a stale air blowing out of it. The sudden opening Allen made in the ceiling of this place must be allowing the old air to circulate again, he figured.
A grin grew on his face. This was what he'd been looking for! All that time invested in finding this place and getting to it was finally paying off! Stumbling to his feet, he started forward, then paused.
I can't see shit.
Looking back at the hole, he tried to find some way back up. Unfortunately, he hadn't accommodated for the ground opening beneath him. The hole was a good six or so feet over his head if he stood on the top of the dirt pile beneath it, and the surface another six feet higher than that.
"Hello? Hey, anyone up there? I need some help!"
No answer. Damnit. Not like he had expected one, anyways. The area he'd been digging was sparsely visited and the building in which he'd made the hole had been long abandoned. He rummaged through his pockets. Keys, wallet... damnit, his cell phone was still on the surface. He'd left it there to keep it from getting dirty. Rather have a dirty cell phone than none at all right now, though. Wait—he froze as his fingers closed around something. It was his lighter. He might've stopped smoking a few months ago, but still kept a lighter on him out of habit. It'd been so automatic he almost forgot. The flame it produced was dinky compared to the size of the place he was in, but light is light. Now he'd have an actual chance to look for something that might get him out of here. Maybe another exit, or an object he could climb.
"Who ever figured that habit woulda helped me some day?"
He chuckled to himself, but cut it off with a wince when pain shot up his back. Guess now wasn't the time for quips. Before moving on, he scanned the current room once more for anything that might be of use, but there was nothing to be found. Holding out the lighter in front of him, Allen clicked it on and moved forward.
The air smelled like dust mixed with sweat. Allen had to remind himself the sweat was probably his own. The lighter didn't illuminate much, but he could at least make out where to put his feet and silhouettes a ways out. The walls of the room must've been further out, though, because he couldn't see them. Every now and then, he paused to look behind himself, making sure he could still see the pillar of light in the previous room. His heart began thumping faster, a mix of expectation and fear rushing though his body. This could be the very room in which he found the jewel, the forgotten treasure of this city.
He came to a halt, almost bumping into a brazier. It stood just a few inches shorter than him and it was filled with something. Allen couldn't recognize whatever it was, whether it be due to the poor lighting or lack of knowledge. But if braziers were supposed to be lit, maybe, just maybe, the stuff inside was still flammable. Swallowing, he lowered his lighter into it.
"C'mon, I could use a little luck right now."
It wasn't instant, but after a few moments of holding his lighter to brazier, it filled with fire. Allen jerked his hand out, yelping in surprise. As light encompassed the room, he grinned like a fool, clapping his hands together before stashing the lighter away and patting it in his pocket.
Maybe I should take up smoking again.
He succumbed to a fit of coughing, grasping at his chest and praying his throat would have some mercy on him today. When the fit passed, he rescinded his earlier thought about smoking.
Now able to make out the room, Allen took stock of his surroundings. This room wasn't as wide as the last room, but much longer. Markings covered the walls, images of various scenes all mixed with aged writing. The brazier itself sat just in front of a row of steps leading up to...
Allen's jaw dropped.
There it was.
Atop a statue rested a large jewel, drinking in the glow of the flame and glinting in the flickering light. Allen ascended the stairs as if in a trance, still unbelieving of what his eyes were telling him. If his research was correct—and he had spent months making sure it was—then that jewel was worth over a hundred million dollars. He'd be set for life! No more shit nine-to-five, no more dealing with assholes at the library, not another minute working under Jesse Kiss-My-Ass. All he had to do was take the jewel.
As he approached, he got a better look at the statue it lay on. It took the form of a woman, a beautiful woman at that, gazing down the center aisle of the room with a peaceful, passive stare. She had eight arms, all in some sort of gesture, kind of like a Hindu goddess. Her figure was intimidating like one as well. When Allen stood level with the statue it dwarfed his 5'10" figure by at least six inches, held up by long, flowing legs that ended in thick, smooth thighs and hips. She was depicted wearing minimal clothing, nothing more than a thin strip of silk over both her breasts and her waist. Allen could make out some sort of jewelry or other accessory on some of the arms and the wrists. He hoped for a second they were made of real gold, but frowned when he saw they were stone like the rest of the statue.
Still, the craftsmanship was breathtaking, truly worthy of the jewel it held. He brushed his hand along her stomach. The stone was perfectly smooth, like real skin, except it didn't give way and the was cool to the touch.
The artist who did this must've had quite the stunning model. She's incredible.
Her bosom bulged out with at least D-size breasts, maybe bigger. Running his thumb across the 'fabric' that covered the statue's breasts, he was surprised to find it, too, was life-like. He leaned in to inspect the arms closer. They were slender and graceful, like the rest of the woman's figure, but he could make out veins and hints of muscle as well. He rubbed his chin for a second. Given the impressive height, arms, and breast size, this was probably meant to be a figure of sexuality. A grin animated Allen's face once more. That fit in perfectly with his research: the jewel was supposedly a beacon of this figure's power and aided men and women with their sexual urges.
Those were just old beliefs, though. Certainly not based in reality.
"Hmmmm," said Allen, walking around the statue. Both his problems might be solved with this. If he could somehow get it to the hole, it was tall enough for him to climb over and escape. He got on his knees and checked the feet of the statue. They weren't anchored to the ground at all. Amazing it didn't fall over in all this time, but he wasn't complaining. If he was careful and didn't damage the statue at all, he might be able to fetch a pretty price for it as well. Granted, it'd be nothing like the hundred mil for the jewel, but the impressive skill put into this must be worth something.
First things first, though. Allen didn't want the jewel damaged while he moved the statue back over to the hole. Slowly, he moved his hands to the jewel. They shook with anticipation, palms sweaty from both the work they'd been doing and a rush of anxiety from being so closed to his goal. Carefully, as if the jewel were made of eggshell, Allen slipped his fingers between the jewel and the statue. It popped out without much protest, surprising after all these years. Allen's face hurt from smiling so wide as he brought the jewel in to admire it.
It glowed a fierce red, it's hexagon shape bordered by a silver casing. Up close it looked even larger, barely fitting in the palm of one of Allen's hands. The cuts and corners in it were clean and precise, something remarkable for the age in which it was crafted.
Allen slipped the gem in his pants pocket, then turned back to the statue. First, he'd have to figure out how much the thing weighs. As he reached forward, he paused, squinting at the statue's pristine face. Was it looking at him?
One of the eight arms darted out, grabbing Allen by the wrist. He whooped and stumbled back in surprise, tipping the statue's balance forward. He winced as it began to topple, but was shocked once again when it stepped forward to balance itself.
