Harold and Peter had travelled to Greece to find the lost temple of Epimetheus. Some ancient cult had been living in the area, worshipping the titan. They had hired a guide, Dimitra, to help them navigate in the Greek wilderness.
Deep down into the temple the astonishing architecture was of another world. Well preserved carvings and paintings on the walls, thousands of years old.
Peter stopped, taking photos of artefacts, documenting everything on his way. Harold went further in, his curiosity was unstoppable.
In the middle of a big hall he found a huge, beautiful jar. He had never seen anything like it. The carvings were extraordinary. He needed to know what was inside. It had to be hiding something spectacular.
Dimitra came in. She saw the jar, and the British archaeologist climbing up on it.
Nooooo! She ran towards him. It was too late. The lid was off.
Horrors poured out. Terrible evils of hate and greed ravished. Spirits of suffering and pain. One took hold of Harold’s mind. Dimitra took a step back. His face looked strange. Dark.
He got his knife out. She tried to run. There was no escape.
Harold ran out through the door as the personifications of human faults and cruelties flew around the hall. Peter saw his friend come running. Terror in his eyes.
They ran up the stairs, fell out of the opening with all possible horrors flying out over their heads.
What the fuck happened? Peter was crying. Sorrow had taken hold of his heart. -Where’s Dimitra?
She’s dead! Something killed her! She… She opened a jar. She opened a jar and some horrible creatures came out. I tried to stop her…
Women, Peter said, shaking his head.
Yes, Harold answered. Women.
They walked fast down towards the village. Smoke could be seen in a distance. They heard screams. Something terrible was happening, and it was spreading out through the land.
Pandora’s box was opened. There was nothing they could do.