[ WP ] As an archaeologist you find and open an ancient tomb . Inside is a mobile phone you lost six years ago . Someone has recorded a strange message on it .

After years and years of researching, investigating, and fundraising, I had finally returned to the Honduran Mosquita jungle. Ever since I graduated and began working as an archaeologist, I have dreamed of searching these jungles. The last time I was in the region, I was just an intern, stuck at the university studying artifacts that others had found beneath the rain forest ’ s thick canopy. I had never been allowed out in the field, but ever since I first laid eyes on that white weathered stone serpent that the field team had recovered, finding the legendary White City had been my obsession. Now, my ten years of dedication was about to pay off. By documenting the locations where artifacts had been found, I had narrowed down the jungle to a searchably small area that I believed may be the location of the lost city. My guide eyed the dark clouds that had formed overhead nervously. The forecast for the day had been clear, but in this part of the world you never know. If it got bad we could always return tot he campsite. I had flown over the area last week in a low-flying plane, and had seen a whitish cliff north of where our campsite was pitched. If I could just reach that point before the storm broke… 
 
 
 We pushed through a particularly stubborn bit of vegetation, and nearly walked face first into the white stone. What had looked like a small cliff from the air was actually a huge stone gate, green moss obscuring much of the white stone from view. The gate looked like it opened into the hillside. Any ornaments that had once decorated the stone slab had long since eroded away, except for a carving of a lunging viper on either side of the door. There was a slight crack in between the two sides of the gate. I leaned my shoulder against it and pushed as gently as you can push suck a large rock. It moved, just slightly. “ Give me a hand, will you? ” I asked as I turned back around to my guide. He stood as far back as he could from the gate, his frightened face barely visible among the jungle ferns. “ What are you doing all the way back there? It won ’ t bite. ” The guide shook his head, and pointed at the carved serpents on the door. “ La maldita serpiente! ” he said with a quivering voice. That was one of the big problems with hiring natives as guides. The better they are at navigating the rainforest, the more superstitious they become. I turned back to the door with a huff and renewed resolve. I worked the door back and forth slowly until the crack in between the doors was big enough for me to grab the edge with my hands, and pulled the door open. Even in the overcast light, you could see the white stone continue into a tunnel in the hill. 
 
 
 I had done it! The White City was real! No one would ever laugh at my research again! I stepped into the tunnel. I should report back and return with some backup. I took a few more steps down the hall. The guide yelled something from outside. Something about snakes? Whatever. It didn ’ t matter. I was finally, finally here! The air grew darker and cooler as I walked down the hall. I ’ ll need to get my flashlight out soon. I think I left it with my pack outside. Not yet. Just a little farther… 
 
 
 I stepped on a smooth, rounded object that slipped out from under my foot, and landed in a cursing heap on the ground. Damn it!!! What ’ s getting in my way now!? The object had light up when it bounced against the wall. It couldn ’ t be… My heart sank as I reached for the old brick cell phone I had tripped on. Someone must have been here before me. But why hadn ’ t they reported their findings? I ’ ve dedicated the past ten years of my life to finding the white city, and this is the closest I ’ ve ever been. The phone itself was old, but it still had power. Whoever it was must not have been here very long ago. Maybe it I can find out whose phone it is, they can tell me what they found. I scrolled though the contact list, and recognized the names. Maybe it belonged to someone back at the camp? But there is more than just researchers on here. There is Aunt Julie. And my favorite pizza place from back at the university. I turned the phone in my hand. There was a scratch on the back from that time I crashed my bike. No doubt about it. This was the phone I had lost back when I was an intern. But what was it doing here? Had someone stolen it? A red exclamation mark in the corner of the screen showed that the phone had one missed message. I typed the answering machine code into the dial pad, and brought the phone up to my ear. “ You have one missed message from 1/28/17 at 5:00 PM. Press one to play the message. ” I pressed one. 
 
 
 “ Why... Back... So long... ” 
 
 
 The blood drained from my face. It was muffled and hard to hear, but the voice on the recording was definitely my own. I heard a rumble from the tunnels entrance, and whipped around to see the doors start to close. 
 
 
 “ Waiting… So long…. ” 
 
 
 The recording continued as I ran back up the tunnel. The door slammed shut just before I reached it. I dropped the phone and shoved the door, but this time it wouldn ’ t budge at all. “ Miguel! Help!!! ” Could he hear me through the stone? Had he run away before it closed? 
 
 
 “ If you would like to repeat this message, please press 2 ” 
 
 
 I picked up the phone again. It looked like it wasn ’ t getting a signal down here. There had been a little more to the message that I hadn ’ t heard. I pressed 2, and began to walk back down the hall. If there was a way out, it had to be this way. 
 
 
 “ Finally… Returned... ” 
 
 
 As I walked, I noticed carvings on the wall from the dim glow of the phone screen. These had been preserved better than those on the outside door. One in particular caught my eye. The white stone head of a serpent, jaws open and delicately carved fangs exposed. The mirror image of the one I studied as an intern. 
 
 
 “ Never… Leave again… Stay…. ” 
 
 
 At the last word the stone serpent lunged at my neck as fast as a flesh and blood snake. I shrieked wildly and tried to jerk back, but the stone creature ’ s grip couldn ’ t be broken. As my vision began to go dark, I heard the last few words from the dropped phone. 
 
 
 “ Lonely… Stay… Stay… Stay… ”
