Young Writers Society

Sir Bubbleton Genesis Jaydenella-Langdon Abbledown the 12th of Megalovania wandered into my office one afternoon, as I was almost asleep on my desk. I sighed helplessly.

“What do I do?” I asked him.

Sir Bubbleton said nothing, as he is a goat.

The sound of my old-timey phone ringing shocked me back awake. I picked up the phone receiver, which looked a little like a pink bar of soap, and spoke into the microphone bit.

“Hello?” I asked.

“Guess what, you little biatch,” my best friend said. “We discovered a pyramid.”

“No joke?” I asked.

“No joke. This is the most real thing to ever happen on a chilly August afternoon, in 1962, when the civil war is about to begin.”

“Can I go check out the pyramid?”

“Why else would I be calling you? You’re a freaking archeologist.” She said. “Get over here.”

I drove down to the dig site, where my friend was waiting for me.

“Look at that,” she said. “It’s the wimpiest fucking pyramid I’ve ever seen.”

It was the wimpiest fucking pyramid I’ve ever seen, either. It was half-sunken into the ground, and it was positioned like a rat about to die from cheese overdose. If you can imagine a 5 year old child trying to make a sand castle with only their left arm and no legs, it would look like the pyramid we’ve just found.

I walked over and sat down in the sand when I felt something cave out from under me. I stood back up and looked down.

“You’re so fat you broke the earth.” my best friend said.

“This is why your husband left you, Carol,” I said. “Give me your shoe.”

“These are new!” she whined.

“Your fault for wearing new shoes to a desert bro. Take them off,” I commanded.

She took them off.

I threw her shoe at the area of sand that was sagging down, and the shoe kicked up a ton of sand, blowing it everywhere. When the sand calmed the frick down again, we were left looking at a weird stone door thing.

“What is that?” I asked.

“To hell if I know,” she said.

“No wonder your name is Carol.”

I examined the door closer and, purposefully ignoring the ominous symbols all over it, I opened it up. Cold air rushed up at us, momentarily disturbing the still hotness of the desert. Just then, I heard a braying noise. I looked around to see Sir Bubbleton Genesis Jaydenella-Langdon Abbledown the 12th of Megalovania trotting towards me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him.

He did not respond, as he is still a goat.

“Well, I’m not going in there,” Carol said. “And also, can you get that goat out of here?”

The goat stared into her soul with rancorous displeasure.

“Fine, let’s toss a coin,” I suggested. “Heads means you go in, tails means you don’t.”

“OkAy, FiNe,” Carol said. “LeT’s aLL gO KiLL ouRsElVeS, i GuEsS.”

There were seven of us total, and all of us were big wusses who didn’t want to go in. I got heads. Two other people got tails. Carol got heads (Karma, bitch). Finally, we were all sorted. 4 of us were going in, and 3 of us were staying out.

“Do you want to go in?” I asked Sir Bubbleton Genesis Jaydenella-Langdon Abbledown the 12th of Megalovania.

He began to eat the leg of Carol’s pants. Ha. Take that, Carol.

We slid inside the trapdoor, one by one, until finally, it was my turn. I looked around one last time, and jumped inside.

My feet hit the stone floor way after I had anticipated. I looked up as the door slammed shut with an ominous echo. There was no ladder back up.

Oops.

It was hot as fuck in the tomb, and not in the sexual kind. The air was stuffy and smelled like spiderwebs and depression. The whole room had the energy of a completely empty Costco at 6pm during daylight savings time.

We stepped forward cautiously, and Carol got caught in a giant thing of spiderwebs. She started screaming, and it echoed around the room. I laughed at her.

“Wait,” one of the guys said. “If that was the only exit, and it’s closed, and we’re underground, how are we going to breathe?”

Everyone looked at each other wearily.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “It takes 7 minutes to suffocate, and we’re in a big, open room.”

“But there are 4 of us,” another one said.

“It’ll be fine,” I said, purposefully ignoring the rational decision, because that’s what happens in horror stories. “Let’s just keep going.”

“Which way?”

I closed my eyes and pointed in a random direction. “That way.”

Opening my eyes, I saw it was a super creepy hallway.

“Nevermind,” I said, and I led them down the not-creepy hallway.

As we were making our way down the tunnel, it kept getting narrower and narrower, until Carol said, “I can’t fit!”

“That’s because you’re fat,” I said, and kept going.

But the further we went, the tighter it got, until even I couldn’t fit through.

Then came a rumble, deep and growly, like your stomach when you need to be silent but you’re hungry. Slowly, inching its way up, cracks started to form on the walls. Small pebbles of dust scraped down on my head as they spread higher and higher, to the ceiling.

“Run!” I said dramatically, but when I turned around, they were already running. I sprinted after them as the ceiling began to collapse on itself. We came to the giant room from before to find it crushed and barricaded by giant stones. We turned around but oops, there was nowhere. I closed my eyes and the ceiling finally fell down.