Free No Such Thing As Werewolves by Chris Fox

but he couldn’t help himself. “I want to study these in detail before offering a hypothesis, but I’m betting this figure is central to their culture. Perhaps the best warrior was dressed in special trappings that make her appear to be a beast? It might be similar to the Mayans and their belief that warriors could channel the power of the jaguar. It would have terrified their enemies.”
    “That’s a connection we hadn’t thought of,” Bridget admitted, resting her arm on his shoulder. “See? I’m already glad we called you in.”
    He rose stiffly, letting her arm drop as he took a step back and turned his lamp on the other wall.
    “Look at this,” Blair said. His momentary irritation was quickly forgotten. “The champion is standing at the apex of the pyramid. These brown figures being led up to her. It looks like she’s sacrificing them. But why?”
    “We’re not sure. It could be some sort of cultural ritual. The Mayans would sacrifice their enemies to gain their strength,” Bridget offered, shining her headlamp on the same panel Blair was examining. “That was Steve’s theory, anyway. I’m not sure I agree, but I didn’t have a better one. What do you think?”
    “The Mayan connection is a good one, but I don’t think that’s what we’re seeing here.” Blair leaned so close that the beast’s claws felt almost life sized. Each was tipped with a dab of red, and a victim lay prone at its feet. Its mouth was awash with blood as well. The figures were stunningly detailed. “These don’t appear to be enemies she’s sacrificing. They appear to be the same citizens from the first panel. If they were enemies, I’m guessing they’d have been bound in some way. I think she’s killing her own people. They’re going to their deaths willingly.”
    “That’s bizarre. Take a look at the next panel. I’m curious what you think.”
    Blair did as he was asked, shining his lamp on the panel closest to the doorway. The champion was helping one of the figures who’d been sacrificed to his feet. The victim was now silver as well.
    “It seems to be a ritual,” Blair mused, scratching absently at the hair at the base of his neck. It was thick with sweat. “Perhaps this champion isn’t killing the citizens. Maybe she’s putting them through a test that wounds them, and if they pass, they are elevated to champion. It could have symbolized some rite of passage men underwent at a certain age.”
    “Or women,” Bridget corrected, accidentally blinding him with her lamp. He blinked away spots as she continued. “I guess we should head down to see Steve. He’ll want to hear your theories. Listen, when we get down there…well, you’ll understand.”
    She began to descend, and Blair trailed after, his vision still recovering. He moved slowly, glancing at either side of the hallway to see what the pictographs contained. He wanted to stop for closer examination, but that would come later. For now he needed to focus on Steve. Besides, it would be worth skipping this for a look at the central chamber.
    “Watch your footing,” Bridget cautioned, pausing to shine her light in his direction. “The stones are remarkably well preserved, but some of them are slick. Alejandro twisted his ankle a few days back.”
    “Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?” Blair said, imagining tumbling to the bottom with a broken leg.  
    “You’ve always been clumsy, but not that bad. Alejandro can trip on flat ground,” Bridget said with a too-quick laugh. He knew her well enough to know when she was preoccupied.  
    They climbed in silence up perhaps another hundred steps before the hallway leveled off. The floor now sloped downwards, but the decline was very difficult to notice unless you’d spent a lot of time underground. Fortunately, Blair had.  
    “The central chamber is just around the corner.” Bridget’s voice echoed off the stone.  
    A faint sliver of light splashed the floor ahead, proving the truth of her words.