flanked by the ominous inscription : "Cursed be any who disturb my eternal slumber."
Victor scoffed at the warning. Curses were for the weak-minded. Steeling his nerves, he pulled out a set of lockpicks and got to work on the rusted iron gate. A few minutes of careful manipulation and it swung open with a tortured screech, revealing a set of descending steps into the crypt below.
Mustering his courage, Victor lit a lantern and descended into the musty darkness. The air grew thick and stifling as he reached the bottom.
Victor's heart raced , He couldn't believe what he was seeing.
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