I’m almost done with this one, and it’s maybe gonna alarm some of my Patreon readers. I don’t do straight up Mythos horror ALL that often. Be sure to read it on Patreon!
As you raise your head again, behind you the great doors to the crypt close. The last faint susurrus of the world above cuts off, abruptly. Such silence! You find yourself drinking it in, and resenting the din of your own heartbeat for a moment. But only a moment, for you are — for now — still human, and life itself still holds some of your affection.
There is light here, but this is a place where the shadows hold sovereignty and are jealous mistresses of their prerogatives. Of special note: a single lamp illuminates a simple bier, and nothing else. This is no euphemism; you can see the lamplight try to push past the darkness, but the shadows will have none of it. You realize that you are in a place where light is merely the absence of darkness, and the minor revelation thrills its way down your spine. What other wonders are here?
After all of the pomp, the coffin of the Golden Emperor is a simple thing of cheap pine and leather straps, unstained and unadorned. The pallbearers handle it with the utmost reverence all the same, slowly and carefully bearing it from the coach to the bier. Afterward, each pallbearer silently goes to the horses that bore the coach and floats to the crypt, frees the wild-eyed beasts from their yokes, and leads them out of the light. The horses go with jerky, half-maddened movements, and do not return. Neither do the pallbearers.