[ WP ] A boy with a plastic shovel goes digging for dinosaur bones , instead , he unearths an ancient evil . What happens ?

*tink* 
 
 Gerard paused. Then slowly pulled the shovel back towards himself. With it still half in the ground, he stared at the little silver trail his shovel has drawn in the dirt. 
 `` Mooooooooooom'' he bellowed from the trench he'd spent all morning digging. 
 `` Yes Gerry?'' Marlene yelled back from the kitchen window. 
 `` I found another one!'' Gerard replied. 
 `` Just leave it alone and wait for your brother to help you get it out'' 
 `` But-'' he began to argue except he can feel his little red n' yellow shovel vibrating in his hand and his eyes drift back down to the silver line in the dirt. 
 
 The others had n't shook like this one. While his eyes stayed glued to the silver line, his head cocked slightly to the right, like a confused puppy. Could he almost hear something? Something very loud but very far away? 
 `` But nothin'! You wait for Robbie young man. The last one you tried to move on your left a gash in your hand and it did n't heal for weeks!'' 
 
 His head jerked back up at his mothers response. She always insisted that Robbie help lift out whatever he found now. A few months prior, Gerard had dislocated his shoulder off trying to lift a half full drum of oil out of one of his `` digs''. Now when he inevitably found any of his `` dinosaur bones'', he had to wait for his big brother to get home to help or no more digging. 
 
 Now Gerard was an obedient boy, if only out of pragmatism, but this was a whole different kettle of fish. For one, his mother could n't actually see him at the moment and as any six year old knows, that's as close to invincible as you can get. For another thing he'd only ever found junk on his digs; old oil cans, buried toys, beer bottles, old car parts. Junk. Sure he called them'fossils' but Gerard was no idiot. He simply enjoyed digging and his obsession with dinosaurs was a convenient excuse. 
 
 But this one shook. This one *hummed*. He'd never found a humming fossil. And never *ever* a shiny, silver, humming fossil. Gerard did n't notice the little red and yellow shovel slip from his grasp as both his hands moved towards the shimmering silver gash in the soil, brushing back the dirt with an almost reverent care. He could feel the humming each time his fingertips brushed the silvery surface of his fossil. 
 
 `` Robbie probably wo n't even let me keep this one...'' Gerard muttered, sat in the dirt, staring wide-eyed at his find as he slowly uncovered it. 
 
 Suddenly, his fossil went still. He cocked his head to the right again, he could n't hear the far away sound any more. No more humming. 
 
 He started to panic and worse still, he did n't know why he was panicking. He went to yell for his mother again. But his little voice caught in his throat. His stomach twirled quickly into a tight knot and his intended bellow comes out a dry squeak. And suddenly he was n't panicking anymore. No, he was full blown terrified. He managed to think that he's never been quite this scared in his young life. 
 
 He glanced back down at his hands to find his sweaty palms pressed hard against the cool, glossy surface of his fossil. He tried to pull his hands back, could n't, then discovered he could be actually panicked and terrified at the same time. As he was about to try screaming for his mother one more time, he was struck by a certainly only a six year old can be struck by. 
 
 `` H-hello?'' he asked. 
 
 **HELLO** it replied. 
 
 
 
 - 
 
 
 Marlene was humming to herself in the kitchen as she pressed down firmly on the cover of her scrapbook. It was a little weekend ritual she had taken up a year ago. She'd started collecting any picture that caught her eye. She had stacks of folders and scrap books full of eclectic images. A clipping from magazine in a doctors office, a friends album-mounted photo, one of her students doodles, anything visually interesting and 2-dimensional she could get her hands on went into a scrap book. See, Marlene had `` the eye'' as her mother had said. A friend of hers that had studied psychology at university had said she had a semiotic mind. One built for interpreting meaning or significance from the visual world. She had laughed and told her to shut up with her psycho-babble, but it had rung true in the recesses of her mind. 
 
 
 From a young age Marlene would notice the smallest detail of an image oft overlooked by others,'Where's Wally' books were almost instantly boring, mazes took her seconds to complete and spot the difference seemed stupidly obvious to her. She simply saw the truth of things. She had'the eye'. For which she would be eternally grateful because with a son like Gerard, she needed eyes in the back of her head. 
 
 
 As this thought rolled through her head she realised her son had been out of sight and quiet for far too long. A dangerous combination. She knew he was trying to pull whatever he'd found out of the ground by himself. He was a good boy but far too curious and adventurous for his own good. She moved her scrapbook onto a stack of three others she had filled that morning and as her hand slid of the top books cover a shiver ran up her spine. She was certain when she got to his little trench he have hurt himself somehow. Probably his little hand again. She stood up so quickly the chair teetered and fell back with a clatter. She did n't notice. Marlene was already at the kitchen window. 
 
 `` Gerry?'' she called out. 
 
 `` Gerry you answer me right now'' she called a little louder. Now she was starting to panic. She was old enough to know she was being ridiculous but it did n't stop a hot lump of lead forming in her stomach. She had to stop herself from sprinting out the back door of the house and managed to keep it to a quick jog. 
 
 
 `` Gerard what are you doing in that damn trench?'' she yelled, halfway across their small patch of lawn. She was thoroughly regretting ever letting Gerard dig at the back of the property. As she reached the edge of the lawn she stopped. It happened so suddenly she did n't know it had happened and was a little confused when the trench stopped getting closer. She looked down at her feet perplexed, then back to the trench. She opened her mouth to yell for Gerry to get out of that god damn trench this very second, except nothing came out. Her heart was thudding in her chest. That notion that he had hurt himself was turning into a certainty that he had hurt more than his hand. Why was n't he replying? Had he hit his head? Had he accidentally gashed open his wrist and bled out? Her mouth was gaping like a fish as she tried to call to him. It would have been comical if not for the horrified look in her eyes and tears on her cheek. She closed her eyes in frustration and while it finally started to sink in that this was far from normal, what used to be her son crawled out of his little trench. 
 
 
 
 **'' Hello mother. `` ** 
 
 ( Edited like hell because I'm terrible at proofreading. )
