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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/jaymicafella on 2025-01-08 21:37:29+00:00.

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The first thing I did when I finished reading the translation was gulp down an entire litre of water. My throat had become parched due to my mouth hanging agape the entire time.

What I had just read shared more in common to the Historical Fiction stories I had written, rather than History. Minus the supernatural element of course. That was by far the most unsettling bit about it, and I couldn’t stop the automatic questions that began to spawn in my head as a result.

What if inside WAS haunted by spirits?

What if Herod WAS buried within?

What if all that Salome had witnessed WAS in fact the TRUTH?

History is filled with references to the supernatural; spells, curses, prayers and incantations that could be found in many different places, tombs being the most common. Crypts of Egyptian Pharaohs have been unearthed, graves and catacombs across Europe scraped clean of treasures specifically given to the dead. Yet, in all of these situations, any references to curses upon the living are never taken seriously. And why should they? Thousands of tombs have been raided and none have ever recorded being haunted after. It was all just the plain old superstitions of a far less educated people from a different time period.

But, the inscription within the Hamsa hands on the wall, seemed different. I felt it with every educated strand in my mind.

No one had ever put in as much effort as Salome had to conceal a supposedly dangerous place. If the elaborate patterns and extremely long text on the wall were not a job enough to conduct, then the construction of this secondary seal and the subsequent burial of it all that she mentioned at the end of her text gave enough indication that her intentions went far beyond the cliche of her time.

In my analytical mind, I knew it was just an extremely elaborate example of the fear of the supernatural that was common in ancient times. But the nauseating feeling in my guts, and the throbbing in my chest were only present because I was not wholly content. Something was off about this place.

I slept very little that night, my mind constantly recounting pivotal moments within the text that just so happened to be the most chilling. After all the research I had conducted on Salome, not once was there ever a mention of her connection to key biblical events, and particularly to Heralds of God. She was just a Herodian princess tied to the intrigues of Herod’s court. By the time sleep did come, I was under the conclusion that the inscription had not been translated properly. It was the only logical explanation.

When morning came, I was very eager to meet with Naeem and Mia and hear their opinions of it. It was just before sunrise when I knocked on the door of Naeem’s accommodation.

“This better not be some sick joke,” I said as soon as he answered.

His eyes darted about as he scanned the base behind me for anyone who might have followed me. He jerked his head in a gesture for me to enter, and stood by the door as I brushed past him. He threw the door shut, but withdrew at the last moment to ensure a smooth and gentle latching.

He turned to me, his eyes a mix of hope and eagerness. “You’ve read it all?”

I scoffed. “Nah, I just went to sleep without reading the very text at the centre of the lie that brought me to this place. Now you be transparent with me, Naeem. This is no joke?”

Naeem’s eyes widened and he shook his head vigorously. “Denial is a dangerous emotion when it comes to confronting that which is out of the ordinary. Please, Corey, you know I didn’t drag you here to the West Bank whilst my grandchildren were held hostage just to play some elaborate prank on your educated ego. What you read has been translated almost word for word. The only parts I may have added in were some definite articles for grammar’s sake, but that’s it!”

I sighed, rubbing my poorly rested face with my hand as I collapsed onto a recliner lounge that was beckoning me. “I’m sorry, Naeem. I believe you. It’s just so difficult to comprehend.”

Naeem flicked on the kettle and sat beside me as it began to boil. “Trust me, I had the same reaction as yourself. Mia too. Just be thankful you got to read it all in one sitting. We had to read it at the agonizing pace of the excavation. We would reach a certain point and be desperate to know what happened next but had to wait another week or two until the layer of text below was unearthed.”

“Do you believe it is true?” I asked.

Naeem hesitated for a moment. “Well, I hope not, considering the reasoning behind it all. But you’re the Salome expert, so I was hoping to hear your perspective on such a recount being consistent with her character. Thats the first step before we can go any further with this.”

The kettle reached its boil and as Naeem poured me a cup of coffee, I told him that I did believe it was Salome who had written it. It had been a rather personal retelling of her experiences, nothing like all the source material available that I used for my paper on her. There were references to several historical events, and being told through her POV, I supposed that they did line up as close to what she would have likely experienced.

“What worries me more,” I continued, as Naeem handed me the warm mug of coffee, “is the historical events that are mentioned are quite inconsistent with what has already been recorded.”

Naeem shrugged as he sipped from his cup. “She makes a point of mentioning Nicholas of Damascus, the court historian. He was present for many of that which he recorded, but what if he was only able to record certain events purely out of reliance of someone else’s word for it? Take Antipater’s death for instance. Josephus and Nicholas have recorded him being taken to Caesarea and imprisoned for some time before being executed. What if, Salome’s account is the truth and this was merely the fabrication she told the court when she arrived after witnessing the grizzly end of the prince. We have no other sources to go off, so I’d give that a fair chance.”

I shuddered as I recalled the imagery of Antipater being turned into a bloody dough. It prompted the barrage of questions of the true troubling aspects of the text to come forth.

“Alright, forget historical authenticity. Let’s talk about the…supernatural…things,” I said.

Naeem gulped. “Straight to the crunch then. Good. Well, it sure gives me goosebumps to think that King Herod may very much still be alive, albeit in a tormented state, right beneath our feet.”

“There’s that. But what about this whole bitterness of the Spirits of the children of Bethlehem within? So dangerous they are that a Herald of God was forced to intervene and order the very erection of the wall?”

Naeem nodded. “It definitely doesn’t make me want to go further with the project, wouldn’t you agree?”

I did.

As I said, despite many ancient tombs having some eerie warnings or curses upon them, the effort that went into keeping this place closed off really made me uncomfortable. I believed it was well to respect Salome’s wishes and leave the place alone.

Mia entered, and after catching up to where me and Naeem were at, she sat next to me on the recliner, close enough that our thighs were touching. I felt a moments distraction from the topic of conversation.

“In the end, it is only the three of us here who know that there is actually more to this site than the monolith which has already been uncovered,” Naeem said. “All we have to do, is misinform Suffian that the monolith is nothing more than an inscription detailing the life of Salome. We can use your expertise, Corey, on her character, to fabricate such a text.”

I chuckled bitterly, even though I was sort of in agreement with Naeem. “So here is the crux of me being here then. You are too afraid to enter the tomb, so wish to alter the truth of the text to give Suffian no need to go further. You needed an expert on Salome who can write up the most accurate one imaginable.”

Naeem was silent as he chewed on his gums.

Mia placed a tender hand on my arm and gave me a reassuring smile. “I’ve tried telling him it won’t work. Suffian is a tyrant when it comes to getting this place unearthed, and I fear that his measures will become even more drastic when he learns that the place is not the tomb of Herod that he thought it was.”

Naeem stood up with an exasperated look on his face. “Mia, Salome has made her warning clear enough, and it is up to us to decide if it should be respected or ignored.” He ran a finger along the edge of a steel ring planted on his index finger. It had an Islamic verse written upon it. “I may be an academic, but I am a devout Muslim, which makes me understand one thing. If Allah Wills this place to be sealed, then it is my duty to make sure it remain so.”

I couldn’t argue against that. I was no Muslim, and definitely not the devout Catholic that my parents would have wanted. But in the end, if, just IF, Salome was telling the truth of there being bitter spirits within the tomb, I would much prefer to leave it alone.

And so, for the next three days as we awaited Suffian’s return, I worked ...

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