Luxuria by James Fuller Page A

have seen the passing of seasons more than a thousand times over.”
    Jessica’s eyes widened. “Wait, are you saying the powers of the fountain have made you immortal?”
    “And so much more than that.”
    Jessica felt a wave of uneasiness settle on her. “That’s impossible.”
    “Nothing is impossible for Senhor Escuro,” she dipped her fingers into the waters, “and those he wishes to bless.” Her fingers graced Jessica’s face and moved for her lips.
    Jessica looked over and saw Dustin walking beneath the archway, yet he looked different, his demeanor had changed in some way. “Dustin, where did you go?” She pulled away from Callisto’s gentle touch.
    Dustin chuckled lightly. “I actually fell into a hidden wall or something and ended up in the basement of an old dungeon.”
    “Are you okay? What happened to your glasses, did you lose them?”
    “I have never been better Jess,” he grinned. “Alcina heard me crying out for help and came to my aid. A good thing too, or I would like be stuck down there still.”
    Jessica looked at him curiously. “And your glasses? You can’t see without them - where are they?”
    “That was before I was cured.” He beamed, “I can see perfectly now, my asthma is gone too.”
    Jessica’s eyes widened in shock. “You made a promise to them didn’t you?”
     
    Mark stopped in front of the massive, crumbling pillars that supported the imposing archway that marked the entrance to the forgotten cliff-side temple. Fallen rocks, crumbled statues and other broken debris littered the ground all around him. The jungle had slowly started to reclaim this portion as the dense growth had begun enshrouding all that it could find.
    He climbed the crooked, warped steps to the vast open doorway. A burst of cool, musky air blew out from the temple’s entrance and a void howl was quick to follow.
    Mark felt the hairs on his neck stand on end and he had to chide himself like a fool. “It’s just a backdraft,” he told himself as he entered the gloom, his flashlight gripped tightly in his hand.
    Inside the sister’s temple, it smelled of damp mildew and aged rot. Dust and spider webs reigned supreme, clogging up entire sections of the impressively crafted sanctuary.
    The long hallway opened up into a large, high-domed foyer. Tattered and rotting tapestries hung in rags from the walls and ceiling. How they had managed to stay up through the years, Mark could only guess. Dust caked, cracked stone benches lined the room in a semi-circle around a raised podium, and behind was a hallway leading further into temple’s bowels.
    A rattling noise to the side of the room drew his attention and he saw a ragged, cloaked figure shuffling aimlessly about the debris upon the floor. “Hello?” He called out surprised to see someone else here.
    The figure stopped its awkward movements and slowly turned to face him. Mark shone the light upon the figure and his heart nearly stopped in his chest. A grotesque, decaying skull stared back at him with vile and empty, dripping eye-sockets.
    “What the hell?” He mumbled in disbelief.
    A raucous hissed erupted from its broken jaw and the thing charged him with a crazed, unnatural speed.
    Mark stepped back, not sure if what he was seeing was even real or if somehow his mind and eyes were deceiving him. His foot caught on something and he pitched backwards, crashing to the floor, losing his flashlight. A cloud of choking dust dispersed into the air, stinging his eyes and burning his lungs.
    The scrapping of bone on stone and the horrid sound that came from the thing was his only savior. He rolled off to the side as the sound of the thing madly attacked the dust-cloaked spot he had just been in.
    Mark’s searching hand found something long and solid, grabbing it desperately as he scrambled to his feet. The dust began to clear and the outline of the hostile creature was before him. By some unholy means, it could sense him in the dimness and turned with