haunted

- never go in alone. you wouldn't return

- go inside during the daytime and leave before sunset, she is stronger when it's dark

- bring a jacket, it's so cold in here even during the hottest days

- don't take any weapons with you, she would see you as a threat and attack you immediately

- leave an offering at the main altar before going any further. don't give her food, it's useless to her

- you might feel watched the whole time. that's normal, she is curious about her visitors

- ignore her whispers, she's not telling the truth

- the basement might feel scary but it's safe to explore. do not ever climb up the spire though

- if you join her during prayer she might share some secrets with you, but the knowledge has driven many insane

- do not open any books you might find, they aren't written in a language from this world

- don't try to bring anything with you back home. she will hunt you down to get it back

- if you hear coyotes howl, get out and hope you can run fast enough

- before you leave always say goodbye to her unless you plan to never return to that place again. she doesn't like rude visitors and doesn't treat them kindly

So, you fancy yourself an explorer, do you?

If you honestly think you have what it takes to make it through the abandoned temple, you'll listen well to my tale.

I'm a man of some small means and no particular talents other than a fascination for what is widely forgotten. Ancient dig sites, ruins of forgotten civilizations, these are the stuff of my dreams.

I heard about the temple from an old wine merchant and thought at first that he'd had a few too many hits of his own product. He could go on for hours about the presence that had drifted through his life on the day he ignored local legend and decided to have a look inside the abandoned temple on the hill. Two of his youthful companions accompanied him, one a braggart and the other a greedy fool.[pThe braggart was exceedingly rude, boasting how he'd seen much more impressive ruins. One minute he was bragging up a marvelous temple shaped like a sundial. My new friend turned around to find a pile of bones and dust where the braggart once stood.

The greedy one headed straight for the treasure room, filling his pockets with as many diamonds and jewels as he could fit. He returned to the light of day...only to die in his sleep with the most haunted look on his face. Not a single diamond was found in his hut.

As for my friend, he studied the goddess residing within those echoing halls.

Follow the rules. This was the piece of advice he repeated over and over when I made it clear nothing would deter me from seeing this mysterious site. She will be kind to those who respect her commands and brutal to any fool unwise enough to break them.

Despite his shaking hand, his penmanship was surprisingly good. I still have the note he scribbled on the back of a piece of parchment. It reads as follows:

1. Never enter her realm alone or you shall never return.
2. Enter after the sun is well risen and do not remain when the sun has set. Her power grows with the darkness.
3. As you value your life, never approach the spire.
4. Carry no weapon lest you give offense.
5. Leave an offering at the main altar before you proceed inside. IMPORTANT!
6. She is naturally curious. Do not be afraid at the feeling of being watched.
7. Ignore her whispers, for she twists the truth.
8. Remember always that she is not of this world. Her books are not for your eyes. Her prayers are not for your ears.
9. The coyotes are her handmaidens. If you hear their cries, run for the exit. Your very life depends on it.
10. Always say goodbye unless you never intend to return. Rude visitors beware. Her spite is strong and her memory long.

I was skeptical but as the man's wine was very good and he was a kindly old oddball, I accepted his little gift with a smile and tilt of my hat.

Luckily, I never travel alone. I've a small red bird I rescued on one of my adventures in the bush. She sits sweetly on my shoulder, singing when the weather's fine and giving my ear a friendly peck when I'm about to do something stupid like step on the tail of a napping puma or walk right over the edge of a cliff. (True stories.)

Her feathers were ruffled by the arctic blast that hit us when I approached the temple door. She gave me the most reproving look.

"Of course I know what I'm doing. Haven't we always made it out in one piece?"

Her chirp sounded surprisingly like the word "barely".

The main altar was a crude chunk of stone, carved before the first city was even a dream in the minds of men. My little friend darted down into one of the deep pockets of my parka as I dug on the opposite side. I came up with a pack of Magic Mint Chewing Gum. The best gum in the world, in my opinion. Produced in my own hometown and certain to be a novelty to this supposed "presence". (Mainly because nobody outside my hometown has ever heard of it. Their loss.)

A brush on the back of my neck, as if curious fingers were exploring the length of my hair. I get a haircut about twice a decade. I also take a lot of grief for being a man with hair that falls almost to my knees. Let them all laugh. If you ever had to shiver through a night in a pup tent on the polar ice cap, you'd wear your hair just as long.

The tunnels seemed to go on forever, each filled with wonders that only had me asking more questions. There seemed to be treasures in that vast expanse from every span of history, some literally from the other side of the world.

"Come to the spire." A whisper full of laughter and cunning.

I chose the basement instead. I could sense amusement and a hint of impatience, though I was quite alone. My little friend was making the front of my coat shake with her trembling.

It would take the rest of my life to write out all the wonders I saw. The one that sticks out most in my mind was a book on a silver pedestal. The pages were beautiful, flipping as if an invisible hand were perusing the contents. There were images of constellations that shifted and changed before my eyes. Ocean waves seemed to leap and fall back on the page. I tore my eyes away before the swimming fish could turn into symbols, remembering the old man's warning about trying to read her language.

How many hours did I spend living as if in a dream?

Eerie howls rose and fell, seeming to come at me from all directions. My little feathered friend had had enough. She shot out of my pocket, winging for the exit as fast as the air current would allow.

My bravery is not boundless. I was close on her tail.

I skidded to a halt, just shy of the door, remembering the last and most important rule.

"Goodbye! You have a lovely home. Perhaps we'll meet again someday."

I could sense her amusement...with just a hint of sadness.