Against my better judgement I returned to the cave site.
I had to see if there was something - some small clue -a a hint that would explain what would happen or what was happening.
I had intended to visit at midday, but by the time I found the site again the sun was hanging low in the sky and the shadows were long. The cave entrance appeared even darker and I gripped my torch closely.
The whole thing had this odd, blasted, ancient feel to it, a harsh contrast to the woodland outside. There was a strange acrid smell that I could not identify and that smarted my nostrils as I steadied my nerves and entered the cave.
Once I had traced my way to the odd temple-room I had an unavoidable realisation. Someone else had been here since I last visited. The bones were scattered as if a wild and angry animal had run oose. The odd, large, wolf-like skeletons were gone and the human remains had been flung about with great force. The ribcage was in pieces and the skull was nowhere to be seen.
The ancient drawings had a recent update. Splashes of crimson blurred and obscured them. I suspected, at first, that some kids had come and trashed the place, but some absent part of me artlessly reached towards the wall and my hand came away sticky. I felt suddenly dizzy. To this day I do not know if the blood was animal or human.
The one painting that was untouched was the depiction of a man holding aloft my artifact. Yet it was not quite untouched, for on closer examination a splash of red covered the artifact itself. A horrid calm swept over me. Somehow, they were aware I had destroyed the artifact, and I was beginning to suspect I had made a rather serious error in my assessment of it.
Now that I looked at the painting again, it seemed ridiculous to think that it attracted or controlled the creatures. The figure, now smeared with blood, held the object before him like a priest would hold a crucifix to ward off evil.
