The dirt starts to quiver. Individual grains start popping, not unlike popcorn, and the popping grains start to take shape. The rise up in a mass and form a set of lips with a stem that reaches to the ground like a disembodied mouth. It starts to open its mouth. There are two rows of dirty teeth. A tongue that is all rough and muddy. It's hideous. It is talking and it says "Hhhh. Hhhe. Hhhhhelp. I am trapped. I am sick. I can't fix it by myself. You have to help. If you don't, we will both die."
The talking dirt closes its mouth and waits. It couldn't even hear me if I asked a question or made an excuse. The dirt has no ears. It sways back and forth with the life force that comes from below.
It opens its mouth again and dark spirit bugs fly out. They keep coming. They make a huge cloud and block out the sun. It starts to rain dirt. Pellets of dirt falling from the sky making tiny red welts on my skin, getting tangled up in my hair, blinding me with grit in my eyes. I can't see where I am or where to seek shelter.
I curl up into a ball and wait for it all to pass. The rain dirt slows. The spirit bugs are quiet. I open my eyes and realize that the sun is shining. I lift myself onto my knees and open my clenched fists and they are covered in gold.