The Dyrysgol Horror and Other Weird Tales by Edmund Glasby

Author:Edmund Glasby
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, dark fantasy stephen king, dean koontz, ramsey campbell
ISBN: 9781434447906
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2012-09-26T00:00:00+00:00

THE UNEARTHED

There was a very good reason why the dead remained buried.

Seated in the wide passenger seat of the mud-spattered van, Mike Salisbury filled in some of the details of the archaeological report pertaining to the discovery that he and his team members had made just over an hour ago. On the dashboard in front of him rested a flask and a cup of steaming coffee. He reached out for the cup and took a drink, wincing somewhat as the hot liquid burnt his tongue.

He was getting mild eyestrain from doing the paperwork, so he turned to look out of the window at the heavy drizzle as it came down in grey sheets on the expanse of bleak moorland. In the distance, he could see his two associates in their blue waterproofs, their forms barely visible through the rain, some three hundred yards away. He was about to return to the form he was in the process of completing when he heard their agitated shouts. Quickly, he zipped up his waterproof, pulled the hood up, then clambered out of the vehicle.

“What is it?” he shouted, squelching through the ankle-deep mud, excitement fuelling his every step. About him, the land was wide and open—a desolate, boggy, fog-filled heath with few trees to offer shelter from the wind and the rain. Over to his right, barely discernible, were the tenebrous outlines of some high tors.

“We’ve got another!” one of the men called back.

Shaking off the cold and wet, Salisbury trudged forward. A few minutes later, he saw his two friends, their faces smeared with mud. Robert Matthews stood in a waist-deep, waterlogged trench, his visible upper half reminding Salisbury somewhat of the bog body they had already pulled from the dank earth. James Shaw, the third and youngest and least experienced archaeologist, stood to one side, resting nonchalantly on a spade.

“What do you make of this?” asked Matthews, pointing.

Salisbury knelt at the edge of the excavation, his eyes drawn to the discoloured, bag-shaped protuberance that the other indicated. Delicately, he reached down, touching the spongy, long-dead flesh.

“I’ve never known anything like it,” said Matthews. “To find one bog body is pretty amazing, but two? And so close together.”

“I guess I’ll have to go and get the sheet of tarpaulin again, won’t I?” said Shaw.

“If you’d be so good,” replied Salisbury. “We’re also going to need some of those small plastic bags so that we can get some more samples from the surrounding soil. We need to confirm that this bog body is from the same context as the first one. Just by looking at the stratigraphy of the trench, I’d guess that it is. However, we could do with having proof of this.”

“How many bags will you be needing?” asked Shaw.

“A dozen should be fine.” Salisbury removed the trowel from where it hung at his belt and lowered himself carefully into the damp trench, watching as the dispatched Shaw vanished into the rain. “All right,” he said to Matthews, “let’s see what we have here.

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