AN: First as always I do not own Bones or the characters within, nor do I own the elements of H. P. Lovecraft that I included, but I do own the dialogue and plot that my rather crazy little brain has thought up of. Technically this might be classified as a crossover but since there is no Lovecraft section I decided to stick it in Bones because of our favorite heros' roles. To all my old fans and readers I think that this is a bit of a change of pace from my old vein and venue of writing and to any new readers out there I heartily welcome you to my little corner of the vast world of writing. Now to all those who peruse these digits and words I suggest pulling up a chair, popping some popcorn, pouring a strong drink, and turning off all the lights. If you've read some of my other works then you know that I do love a good bit of blood and horror and given the subject matter at hand in this one well… let's just say that I'm pulling out all the stops on my imagination and skill to bring you what I hope is a glorious work which you all write copious reviews for.
Have you ever heard the wind when it howls, I mean when it truly howls? Not wind that whispers secrets in the dark of night carrying the thoughts of long-forgotten lore and legend across the hearts and minds of men nor the shrill beatings of a tempest; mere anger and destruction is a pitiful thing one which a steady mind and stout heart can laugh back with the impunity of strength. No the question is have you heard the wind howl? Have you heard the secluded and endless torment of aeons of anguish lost forever; moments of unimaginable and terrible sensation trapped forever to wander the farthest outposts of humanity in the desolation of the wilderness.
Wilderness is the correct terminology for this as it has long period in the human psyche of civilization. In the oldest languages and tongues of the races of man wilderness has meant a barren desolate and dangerous place. Eden and paradise were universally seen to be cultivated gardens where the strength and toil of man kept the beasts and terrors at bay. In ancient Hebrew and forgotten Persian, in the dialects of the land between the two-rivers and the mandate of the Han; it was a quest of civilization to push back the hold of the wilderness and to shape nature as a garden. However as far and as energetically humanity pushes there is always wilderness at the edges and the darkness contained within remains. Here the folly of man arises.
There is an ingrained, almost self-destructive, desire deep within humanity to "know;" curiosity truly is a double-edged sword as it leads humanity to both the greatest heights and the most terrible depths...
What makes it really interesting is when both happen at the same time.
"Blast it's cold out there." flakes of snow and chunks of ice cascade off of a red-orange snow suit and onto the black plastic mats of the inner doorway as the wearer flails extravagantly to rid himself of the encumbering chill. From everything that he had been led to believe the weather in this region was supposed to be fairly calm so the recent wind storms were simply incredible.
Even through the heavy flaps of the field tent the wind beats and tears against the chilled air within; no amount of heating can keep the temperature within the tents to climbing to any level approaching comfort; drinks always freeze after a time and keeping skin exposed for long times just begged for frostbite. The light thumps upon the small field table from his shed gloves seem insignificant next to the cacophony outside; a whispered curse about the chill inside is swallowed up from a sudden clatter from a series of precariously stacked cooking utensils being knocked over by the incessant attentions of the wind.
His louder curse is cut short by a flickering of the lights within the tent. For a fraction of a second his ice blue eyes betray a hint of concern and his weathered face pales even more from it's normal light complexion. Quickly his face returns to it's normal granite glare; not so much glare as look, he thinks ruefully at the fact that people say that he has three facial expressions and all of those are the same.
"Damn generator keeps dieing out here, the cold just eats through the thing." cautiously; in the past the lights went out completely plunging the confines of the tent into a corporeal and thick darkness, he picks his way over to a small work table which he keeps under lock and key at all times. With a calm and resolved countenance he opens the heavy steel lid, pushing it back until the contents are clearly illuminated by the naked overhead bulbs.
The contents are not what one would usually associate with the amount of steel needed to house them. A few packets of paper, some hammers and hand tools common to any geologist, a GPS, some spare batteries, and a curious piece of stone.
Calloused fingers pick up and examine the stone for it indeed was the very reason that this expedition into the heart of Antarctica was formed; led by the Miskatonic University of Arkham, Massachusetts with funding from a variety of scholarly institutions, the finding of this simple stone sparked a new level of international attention onto the forgotten continent seldom before seen.
It's fine green soap-stone infused with flecks of gold and black was formed into an irregular six pointed star but with no evidence of tool marks science was baffled to explaining such a phenomenon. The material was still elusive in understanding let alone defining and categorizing; material analysts and every geologist on the planet was at a loss to what the stone actually was. Battery upon battery of tests returned no results, not even inconclusive results, just simply no results. It was as if the stone didn't exist.
The only test that returned any sort of data was when several physicists at MIT analyzed the stone's electromagnetic profile; the results were unusual to say the least. It was as if the stone drew in electromagnetic energy from the area around it and absorbed it; to what purpose no one can figure out but many speculate.
His contemplations on the nature of the stone were suddenly interrupted by a sudden gush of cold air into the tent, quickly looking up to spot a rather scrawny fellow in a dark blue snow suit; his goggles fogged up and his breath steaming as he shed what snow there was on his person.
"Danforth what have you got for me?" Danforth immediately stopped trying to clean himself off and almost stumbled over himself to stand up.
"We found something Professor Dyer."
"What exactly did you find?"
"I-I don't know Professor it's some sort of... mummy-fossil."
"Danforth you're telling me that as the best graduate student at the Miskatonic University the best description that you can give me is mummy-fossil?" Danforth cringed a bit at the sparkle of fire in Professor Dyer's cold eyes; it was a true honor to work with the man but at times he could be more than a little unhinged and intimidating. However in this Danforth knew that he could stand his ground.
"Yes Professor, we uncovered a fossil but it's unlike anything that we've ever seen before; the tissue of the specimen seems to be dead but not turned to stone like a normal fossil would but we found it in a strata which would suggest that anything but fossilization is impossible due to the age of the rock around it and because of the fossilized humanoid bones that we found with it."
At this Dyer stopped his, curiosity piqued; could it be that they just uncovered something as ancient as the dinosaurs but pristine enough to... the possibilities were astounding, and the bones...
But to analyze the find... they weren't equipped to examine it here in these wretched conditions.
A spark of genius.
"Danforth prepare the specimen for shipment to the Jeffersonian, I know several archeologists and biologists there as well as a rather brilliant forensic anthropologist. We'll document our findings and send them a preliminary report tonight, then we'll prepare the shipment in the morning."
"Of course professor."
As Danforth left the tent the sounds of the wind mixed with the barking of the dogs filtered into the tent. Dyer regretted the necessity of the dogs; he had two fine huskies at home himself and didn't like using them for work, but the extreme cold broke down the majority of the vehicles save for the big haulers. Dyer wondered why the dogs were barking so much as he could hear them even through the snow shelter that they were in to protect them from the unusual winds. Deciding that it was probably nothing Dyer merely heaved a sigh and proceeded to gather his tools to examine the specimen in the lab tent on the other side of the camp site.
As he proceeded to leave the tent out of the corner of his eye he noticed that the stone seemed to emit a curious sort of glimmer and sheen. When he turned to look closer the stone just looked as curious and unfathomable as it always was. Shrugging he made his way out into the darkening night to the sound of a howling wind and an increasingly frenzied barking from the dogs.
AN: Review please