3 days earlier…
Screams echoed through the simplistic build of the underground temple, each distinctively unique sound of pain and panic resonated between the stone walls of the hallway before escaping into the surrounding forested area. Within the main altar of the temple stood the remaining explorers and their translator, Ikal, who silently leaned against one of the three walls, his arms crossed while his eyes stayed fixated on the two foreigners. One Portuguese, the other Spanish, dressed in their respective national equipment which showed off their presence to be a government-funded one. Around the room lay the victims of the spears themselves, each showing the fates that accompanied the attempted wielding of a spear: Charred bodies, Hands covering the ears, or a look of all life being sucked from the body.
“You…” The Spaniard growled in his native language, holding a spear which held what seemed to be a bowl underneath the blade, water dripping over the edges of the bowl with the man’s movement as he stomped towards Ikal. “Why can’t they hold the last three? What did you do to them?”
“I didn’t do anything,” The Mayan replied calmly, “They just had no potential and couldn’t handle the power of the spears.”
“Then how come we can?” The Portuguese explorer questioned, holding a simplistic yet fully metallic spear, “And what happened to the other four? Did some people get here before us?”
“I don’t know. I’m not the only native here you know.”
The Spaniard spat on the ground in frustration, seeing his whole group become brutalised by three strange objects had hit him hard. There was a sense of uselessness within his mind, he would’ve stopped them before it happened. He could’ve told them to leave the spears after the first death. But why did he decide to keep trying?
“I want you to tell us how to find people with potential, I want those last three spears. And you are going to help us whether you like it or not, Savage.” He ordered, speaking his words through gritted teeth as anger slowly fuelled his mindset. “But first, we need to give these bodies a burial, they deserve it.”
“I suggest we also cover our tracks.” The Portuguese man added, “We will meet you in Merida next week, Ikal. Understand?”
“Of course,” Ikal sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in the process as he straightened himself from the wall. “Let me give you a hand with the bodies.” Continue reading “3: Rivalry”