• "Jesus, this place is creepy." Even as a light whisper, the boy's voice cascaded off of the stone walls like a racquetball. "How much longer?"

    "An eternity, at this rate, Lucas," said Thomas, who was crouched low over one of the dusty plaques. "These things are so worn out I can't read a thing. I can't even tell what language this one is in." He brushed the back of his fingers over one of the eroded epitaphs agitatedly. He was right; of all the engravings fastened to the perimeter of the mausoleum, not a single one was legible. "Completely cacographic," Thomas mumbled under his breath.

    Thomas's vocabulary was surprisingly large, but he rarely showed it. When he did, his words were most likely misunderstood. No one really knows where he learned to speak like that, but Lucas always carried around a dictionary to find out what his master said.

    ca⋅cog⋅ra⋅phy  [kuh-kog-ruh-fee]
    –noun
    1. bad handwriting; poor penmanship.
    2. incorrect spelling.

    Lucas shut the tiny pocket-dictionary and stowed it in the pocket of his hoodie. "Can we come back when it's light out?" He asked beseechingly. "I'm really getting the creeps in here."

    "Come on, Lucas. Where's your sense of adventure?" He used the cliche line sarcastically. He didn't turn around, but instead remained crouching, examining a line of writing with a magnifying glass.

    "I'd imagine it's in my nice, warm, cozy bed, sir. Why don't we go and check?"

    "Ha-ha," Thomas made a mock laugh. "Nice try, Lucas. Now just wait until we--"

    He was interrupted by a sudden thumping. Lucas couldn't help but jump. Even Thomas looked rattled. "Uh-oh. Gray must have found us. Let's go." He sounded calm, but he spoke very fast, like he did only when panicked.

    Lucas didn't need telling twice. He started high-tailing it towards the open door, a solid block of monolithic marble. Thomas was not far behind. To the horror of both Lucas and Thomas, a grinding noise announced that the door was closing. "No!" Thomas shouted.

    He reached into his bag and pulled out whatever was on top. A metal ball of some kind. It might have been important, but a necessary sacrifice. He raised if over his head and launched it towards the gap that was their rapidly disappearing exit. Timed perfectly, the ball acted as a door-stop, and made a gap just large enough for a person to slide through. But the ball looked like it wouldn't hold long.

    Lucas reached the door first and manage to wiggle out, stepping carefully over the wobbling metal sphere. Just as he did so, the metal ball cracked a little, obviously not solid, but filled with machinery. Thomas, who was just about to crawl through, flinched, lest his leg be crushed.

    "Come on, sir!" Lucas shouted, and he tried to hold the door open himself, but it was too large. With one last painful look at his master, Lucas watched in dismay as the ball exploded with a snap and the door closed, sealing Mr. Tocse inside.