Slumber Disturbed

The sound of stone being destroyed creeps ever closer to my lair. After centuries of silence, the staccato chipping is a welcome addition to the rare tectonic shifts and crumbling woodwork that has been my only source of excitement for the last… years. I have no idea how many. This sanctuary had been buried for years before I awoke, nanotechnology ordering my body to life to defend this alcove. But there was no intruder, only a tomb of rock rapidly encroaching on this sacred place. Judging by the speed with which the stone moved, and the crude chipping of pickaxes at the catacombs that seal my abode in the earth, the world must have changed significantly. I can tell the miners are getting closer because I can hear the sound growing ever louder.

From my perch inside the sanctuary, I eagerly anticipate the moment when light breaks through these walls of stone and I can see the world again. When I first awoke, my programing was strong, and I followed orders to protect this place zealously, even though there were no intruders. Now that so much time has passed, leaving me alone with my thoughts, I don’t have any desire to protect this place. If not for my own life, I would have been glad to see stone swallow this place and chew it to a pulp, leaving only powder and dust in its wake.

Apparently this was a cultural site, and one which warranted cutting edge security protocols at that. Now I would be surprised if anyone remembers the significance it used to have to humanity. I don’t even remember its name, or if I was even told. The nanotechnology that animated me was supposed to only last for a little while, a few days at most, and then I would return to an inert state. Knowledge was not necessary for that purpose. My chimera form was designed for brief, brutal combat- long steel claws, a lion’s head breathing flame (but not hot enough to damage the elaborate stonework of the building I guard), a tail with a scorpion’s barbed stinger. These centuries of waiting have left me rusty and decrepit, but thanks to the nanotechnology my body still moves and functions.

I don’t know if I so much want to see the outside world as I want to be somewhere that isn’t here. As the miners draw closer, their pickaxes clanging against stone with a sense of purpose, I draw myself into the shadows of the sanctuary, hiding in the rafters against a backdrop of darkness. Whatever purpose draws them here, I don’t want to have to fight them. In my less than pristine state, I don’t know if I can win a fight. I need to find metal and circuitry for the nanomachines to repair my damaged body with before I can defend myself.

The first rays of light, cast by a meager oil lantern, pierce through the edifice of my cage, handfuls of stone clattering down the precipitous drop to the floor near my sanctuary. Excited shouts in a language I do not know celebrate the occasion, and after only a little more clashing of pickaxes against stone I hear the telltale whish of a rope being unspooled. I wait, my superb hearing constructing an assessment of the intruders. There are four of them, with a fifth waiting at the top of the rope. Two of them have a heavy gait, while one has a remarkably light step and another moves with a precision instilled through military drills. I wait for them to enter my sanctuary with their light, so I can see their forms. The one with military precision moves forward, and I hear the telltale sound of armor pressing against stone with each footfall. I don’t know what weapons the group wields, but it is apparent from this first individual that they expect a fight. I remain hidden, watching, waiting.

Written for mctiller's contest: https://steemit.com/twentyfourhourshortstory/@mctiller/writers-win-5-steem-twenty-four-hour-short-story-contest-for-june-5-a-gargoyle-from-a-top-an-ancient-building-plots-its-coming