Tag Archive for: lost civilisations

Forewarnings

by Sam Snyder

The radios went out forty minutes ago. We’re too far underground—the water dripping from the ceiling is frigid—but none of us wanted to leave after seeing the first of the carvings, so here we are. The writing’s like nothing the linguist’s ever seen, apparently. Personally, I think they look like they’re from a half-assed sci-fi drama.

The artwork’s different, though. Familiar. Fires burning across crudely built cities, people ripping each other apart. Cages of creatures barely recognisable as living. The overwhelming terror of the carnage is what comes across clearest in the carvings.

It’s almost like they knew.

Sam Snyder

Sam Snyder is currently pursuing a degree in English Literature at some small liberal arts university or another. When they aren’t in class or at work, they can be found typing up creative nonsense in their local library or watching early 2000’s TV in bed with their cat.

 

An Excavation

by Cailín Frankland

They took our relics first: pots and tools, playthings and jewellery. This we tolerated, chuckling at their blustering talk of papers, conferences, museum displays. We bore their ambition, indulged their curiosity—even in death, we are a generous people.

Then they stole our bones. They extracted ribs with dental picks, boxed up our vertebrae—we felt brushes graze our clavicles, trowels scratch our shoulder blades. When they took our limbs, we warned them—we shook the earth beneath them, snuffed their precious flashlights. They came for our skulls anyway.

In life, the diggers pitied us. Now we are the same.

Cailín Frankland

Cailín Frankland (she/they) is a British-American writer and public health professional based in Baltimore, Maryland. An avid reader and horror aficionado, their work explores themes related to feminism, queerness, disability, chronic illness, neurodivergence, and intergenerational trauma. They live with their spouse, two old lady cats, and a 70-pound pit bull affectionately known as Baby.