Legends of Amacia: Mysteries of Tiamat
Vipers in the Darkness

Meanwhile, Hannibal arrived athis house. His house was not unlike Harry’s house, only a bit larger with agarage attached to it. It sat off the main highway with nearly half a mile ofgravel driveway. Boxwoods and shrubbery lined the perimeter of the house and aconcrete sidewalk went from the front porch out to the driveway, which circledaround in front of the house and garage. Closing the front door and turning onthe light after entering, an uneasy feeling came over Hannibal. He lookedaround intently, sensing something wasn’t right. Sitting the duffel andbackpack down in a chair, he proceeded to investigate. He searched the houseand found nothing disturbed. Going out to the garage where he did his research,Hannibal investigated, replaceing nothing missing. Everything was as he had leftit.

Going back into the house,Hannibal retrieved his pack and duffel, carrying them to the garage. Thestrange uneasy feeling didn’t leave him. He deposited the duffel on the floornext to his recliner and sat down, sitting the backpack down in front of him.He then proceeded to open the backpack and removed the Relic, leaning back ashe gazed at the oddity. The strange feeling suddenly grew worse. “Something’snot right here,” he muttered, “Something’s wrong.” He suddenly rose from therecliner and sat the Relic next to the map on his drawing table. Opening thedrawer on the desk, Hannibal removed a nine-millimeter pistol, pulling theslide chambering a round, holding it ready. He looked around again, and thenwent back into the house to search, ready to take out any intruder, replaceingnone.

Hannibal stopped in the kitchenand leaned against the counter, rubbing his face with his hand. For a moment,he stood there, and then out of the darkness he heard a whisper just barelyaudible, but not loud enough to identify what was being said or where it wascoming from. The whispering increased in intensity and he began to look aroundwildly with concern. Someone’s playing with me, he thought.

He went into the bathroom andleaned on the sink. The whispering continued and it began to unnerve him.Abruptly looked up into the mirror on the wall over the sink, he saw hisreflection and the reflection of something hideously reptilian shrouded inshadows standing right behind him. Wheeling about, pistol ready, he foundnothing. Turning back to the mirror, only his reflection greeted him. “Lord?What’s going on here? There’s something wrong here. What is it?” he prayedaloud.

Moving out of the bathroom,Hannibal went back into the living room and stood there, looking around at thefurniture and the various items he had hanging on the wall. The whisperscontinued while he looked around with growing concern. There must be a devilplaying with me, he thought.

As suddenly as the whisperingstarted, it stopped and an audible voice spoke in his ear. “Go into thegarage,” it said urgently. Hannibal wheeled around to replace no one present. Hehesitated and the voice spoke again, “Go to the garage NOW!”

Thatspurred him forward into the garage. Hannibal came crashing through the doorand down into the garage where his recliner and desk sat. Seeing nothingappeared out of the ordinary, he looked around, crying in desperation, “What isit? What’s going on here?” His anger began to build. The feeling of uneasecontinued to grow with his anger. He glared at his surroundings.

“Check yourcedar chest,” the voice whispered without warning.

Hannibalflew to the chest, threw all the papers on it off onto the floor, and openedit. He rummaged through it and then overturned the chest, only replaceing thepapers and notebooks that he had deposited in it over the years. He knelt downin the mess of papers and notebooks and searched intensely. Suddenly, he becameaware of something moving in the midst of the papers that had been on top ofthe chest. His keen sight zeroed in and he saw a tail move into the piles ofjunk. He sat motionless for a moment, watching and listening intently. A rustlecame from his right and he turned his head in time to see a black mamba coiledready to strike. The poisonous snake struck at him half a second later. Hishand reached out with lightning speed and grabbed the snake right behind thehead just before it connected with his face. The snake writhed and coiledaround Hannibal’s arm but could do nothing in his iron grip. Hannibal quicklygrabbed his pistol and pummeled the snake with it until it uncoiled from aroundhis arm. Pushing the mamba’s head to the floor, he shot it in the head.

Standingup, the feeling of unease subsided and he slumped into his recliner with asigh. Thank you, Lord. Thank you, he thought. He looked around, seeingthe mess he had made and groaned while rubbing his face with his hand. Imust be getting too close to something. Mambas are found in Africa, not inAmerica, he thought. There’s more to this than someone trying to kill mewith a snake. What is it, Lord? A slight breeze tickled his face. Turningleft to the breeze, Hannibal noticed a small hole just big enough for the mambato enter staring at him from low on the wall behind where the chest had beensitting. He walked over to it and examined the hole. It was smooth as glass,being cut through the cinderblock of the garage wall. “So this is where youcame in,” Hannibal muttered. “And someone used a laser borer to do this too.”He thought for a moment and then growled, “Shit! They must’ve got wind of whatI’m up to. Looks like I’m going to have to adapt my plans to fit. I just wishthey’d leave me the fuck alone.”

The Relicabruptly caught his attention sitting on the drawing table. It glowed softlyand the crystal on the apex shined with an unearthly radiance. Hannibal roseand picked up the Relic, gazing intently at the strange reaction it exhibited.“What the hell?” he murmured. “Why is it glowing?” He puzzled over it anddecided to take it into the kitchen where he’d get a snack. As he left thegarage, the Relic ceased to glow. Noticing it, he immediately turned around,going back into the garage. The Relic began glowing again. “Mmmm; interesting,”he muttered. He carried it around the garage, watching as the intensity of theglow fluctuated. The Relic glowed strongest where the cedar chest sat.Therefore, he put the Relic on top of the cedar chest and set about searchingthrough the mess of papers and notebooks. “It would be easier if I knew what Iwas looking for,” Hannibal muttered.

“You knowit when you replace it, son,” the voice whispered cryptically in his ear. Hannibalsearched for an hour through the mess, and then decided to stop. Looking at thesnake and the blood puddle on his floor, he decided to clean it up.

Going intothe kitchen, Hannibal retrieved a five-gallon bucket from a closet and a rollof paper towels to clean up the mess of blood. The snake, which was nearlyseven feet long, went into the bucket and he scrubbed the floor until he hadcleaned up the blood. The paper towels went into the bucket with the snake andhe set them next to the door to the kitchen.

Hannibalthen went to his utility closet, retrieving a bag of concrete patch, a trowel,and an empty bucket. Going into the kitchen, he mixed a half gallon of theconcrete patch with water. When he had it mixed to the consistency of putty, hereturned to the garage and filled the hole in the cinderblock wall, trowelingit smooth. With the hole filled, he left the trowel in the empty bucket andreturned to his recliner. He sat down and looked at the Relic sitting on thecedar trunk glowing in an unearthly manner. Sitting there, drowsiness suddenlybeset him. He struggled against it but was unsuccessful in staving it off.Slipping off to sleep, he laid there for nearly two hours.

With agasp, Hannibal lurched and woke, nearly jumping out of his chair. Lookingaround wildly as his heart pounded like a jackhammer in his chest, he slowlycalmed down as he leaned on the table. Looking at the Relic on the trunk andits strange glow, he went to the mess of papers and notebooks on the floor.Kneeling down, he rummaged through the piles and papers. Within five minutes,he found a small leather bag in the midst of the papers. He gently picked it upand opened it, replaceing another small relic in the bag: a medallion about halfan inch thick by two inches across. Hannibal gently took the Medallion out andlooked intensely at it. It was glowing as well. “Well, isn’t this interesting,”he mumbled. The Medallion was made out of solid gold with a small crystal abouthalf an inch across embedded in the center of it. The crystal appeared to bethe same kind of crystal as that on the Relic. All around the crystal engravedin the gold was some strange type of writing that resembled that on the Relic.“What’s going on here?” he asked. “I remember replaceing this several years ago.Why does it now glow like this Relic?” He scratched his head as he brought itover near the Relic. Both of the strange pieces glowed brightly. He touched theRelic carefully and it was cold as ice despite the fact that it glowed almostas if it were red hot. “This is really strange,” he said, walking away from theRelic with the Medallion in his hand. The farther away from the Relic he went,the dimmer it glowed. When he stepped through the door into the kitchen andlooked out into the garage at the Relic, it stopped glowing at all. Thesetwo things belong together, he thought. This is too weird. I’d betterkeep these two things separated for now.

At that, hewent back into the garage and checked the windows and doors. All were lockedand secure. He turned out the light as he left the garage, and then proceededto secure the rest of the house. All the windows and doors were locked exceptfor the front door that he came in. He promptly locked it and turned out thelights as he went to his bedroom. Sitting the Medallion on the dresser, hepromptly checked the room to see that it was secure. Once satisfied that he wasalone, he sat the pistol on his nightstand and changed into some sweat pantsand T-shirt before kneeling down beside his bed and praying fervently for tenminutes. After praying, he climbed into his bed and, for once, drifted off intoa restful sleep that was punctuated with strange elusive dreams of forgottenworlds.