Kahlil Got A Gun

A boy finds a Large metal hand while on a dig in Mexico. He is digging outside the area he is liscensed to be digging in so he is afraid to tell anyone.
He covers up the hand and brings a peice pack to the university only to find out that it is an unknown metal.

Kahlil Jibrah had told his proffessors that they were digging in the wrong spot, but what did he know.  They were doctors and he was just a freshman.

"They are just idiots, I am of the people of the black tent, my ancestors found the rosetta stone. They talk to me like i am an idiot." Kahlil thought to himself.

He rolled up his prayer mat and felt a an eerie felling. A feeling his grandfather had made him learn, as a small boy in the high desert. The name had no easy translation, but it meant when a thousand voices scream to you from the grave. The boy ran towards a soft spot in the jungle and dug franticly.

"Ow!" He screamed as his small shovel scraped his leg but still he dug.

Katchakp.

The shovel made the all too familiar sound of, metal on metal. He dug with his fingers franticly until he pulled a piece of black metal half way from it's earthen tomb

He wondered aloud as he held what looked like a giant finger connected to some further buried ancient hand. the voices stopped.

 

The End

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