A/N: So, this was a request from like 2023? Apologies that it took me so long to get to it, it was perhaps my first ever request and it has been staring at me from my inbox for a while. I recently finally found the will to write again so I hope you enjoy this!
Warnings: Hints of violence, battle scenes, walkman (I don't know how they work so I took some creative liberties), gore, graphic depictions of violence (for a little bit only), Female POV, mentions of music from 1999 (like Michael Jackson)
Though they came from the same parents, Rick O’Connel and his sister were as different as the night and day. While he inherited their parent’s adventurous spirit, she had her grandparent’s fascination with mysticism and magic. The same magic that wove its way through Hamunaptra, dark and velvety, thrumming with undead life. All her life, she’d been surrounded by mystical artefacts from around the world, learning about their purposes, their properties, rituals of the past, long gone, yet the deities they were attached to laid dormant, waiting.
She was passionate about archaeology, speaking dead languages as naturally as her own tongue. Accompanying archaeologists on digs, she had gained quite a repertoire within the archaeological community.
Her phone rang early in the morning, her brother asking for help on a dig at the mysterious Hamunaptra. The scrolls called the place cursed, yet she could taste destiny calling to her. The strings of fate beaconing her towards the cursed remains, so she packed her bags, taking the quickest flight to Egypt, eager to assist.
As soon as her feet touched the ground of Hamunaptra, she felt the stale magic in the ruins, its rotten taste coating her mouth as she tried keeping her composure. Something was wrong in this place; their presence was violating the site. He brother acknowledged her concerns, telling her he felt it too but he was focused on fulfilling the woman, Evelyn’s wishes in finding the book of Amun-Ra.
“Brother, be careful as you dig. These sands hide more than scorpions,” she warned, ominously, accompanying them as they walked through the unending tunnels of Hamunaptra.
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll be careful, lil sis. Don’t worry,” her brother answered trying to reassure her, cautiously watching out for traps within the walls and floors.
As night slowly drew closer, the two separate camps settled into the tent when they were attacked by the dessert nomads. Men in black, charging into the camp, killing the diggers one by one. Guns blazed as the men attacked the camps. Rick fought the masked chieftain of the nomads. He was pushed away, landing on his back. The chieftain approached him with his sword, intending to end his life when he was blocked by a smaller body attacking him. It was her, Rick’s sister wielding a sword fiercely against the chieftain.
Their swords clashed against each other in a dance of death. Every attack he made, she blocked successfully, and every time she slashed against him, he evaded her sword. It was as if they’d fought before, weaving past each other, their blades dancing against each other.
“You’re good, for a nomad,” she exclaimed, slashing through one of his sleeves.
He paused before charging at her, his blade cutting into her shoulder as she wove away from him.
“You’re good, for a foreigner,” he said, a smirk tingeing his voice.
She smirked, charging at him when her brother yelled, “STOP!”
Both their gazes turned towards him, a lit dynamite in his hands, willing to take them all with him, showing he’d not back down. The chieftain stared, wide eyed as the spark moved along the wick, yelling to the suicidal man, “Yallah! We will shed no more blood, but you must leave. Leave this place or die. You have one day.”
Stating his, he called his forces to retreat, the mysterious figure melding with the night, as if he were never there. She stared, watching him leave as her brother extinguished the dynamite before checking her cut.
Soon, she sat bandaged, huddled around the dancing flames. The two camps came to a temporary truce, deciding to stay together at night for protection. Sighing she thought about the mysterious stranger who wielded his sword with power and grace. Recalling his movements against the sand, his formidable strikes. He was a fighter. But what was a trained fighter like him doing among the dunes?
Dawn broke slowly, as the dig continued. The mismatch band of archaeologists and treasure hunters disregarding the grace of the chieftain the night before.
“I think we should leave. This place…it gives me a bad feeling. We shouldn’t be here. It’s not like the other sites, whatever is buried here, it must remain here,” she whispered to her brother, pulling him aside before they went into the tunnels once again.
“I know, but I can’t leave her…She saved my life,” he said, strapping his gun against his waist.
“Is it just because she saved you…or because you’ve fallen for her?” She asked, a teasing smirk on her face.
“Shut up!” He yelled, averting his eyes from her as she laughed at his red face.
The moment the black sarcophagus was opened, she felt a wave of nausea hit her. Something was wrong, very, very wrong. Reading the inscription within, ‘Death is only the beginning’ sent a chill down her spine. Grasping her brother’s arm, she told him urgently, “We should leave. Right now. We can’t be in here. Close him. Now!” He stared at her questioningly, but trusted her instincts. Whatever she felt, whatever scared her must’ve been serious.
He nodded, leading them away from the ominous sarcophagus cautiously.
Night quickly fell as the camps sat with each other around the fire, trading stories with whiskey-tinged lips. The alcohol making them friendlier, more willing to exist together and for a moment, there was peace within the cursed ruins.
The quiet was quickly broken by Evie stealing the book of the dead and reading from it. The archeologist, panicked, screamed for her to stop, but it was too late. He was awake and the end had come.
A swarm of locusts emerged, drawing the mismatched group to seek shelter within the cursed walls of Hamunaptra. Their group got split up within the walls with Evie getting separated from the rest.
They found a way around, to her, only to be faced with the grotesque form of the mummy they had previously discovered. The mummy looked at her, whispering with wide eyes, “Priestess.”
She stared at the being, horrified as she pulled Evie away from him, her brother shooting the creature in the face before barely escaping.
“WHAT WAS THAT?!” she yelled, exhausted and frustrated. They escaped the mummy but the danger was not over yet. Surrounded by natives in black, the chieftain stepped forward, answering her question, “We told you to leave or die. You refused. Now you may have killed us all. You have unleashed a creature we have feared for more than three thousand years.”
“Relax, I got him,” Rick said, smugly.
“No, you incapacitated him. No mortal weapon can kill this creature. He is not of this world,” he said, turning to his men, motioning them to bring someone forward. Burns soon emerged, his eyes and tongue gouged out. The rest were horrified, Rick immediately going to attack the chieftain but his siter hold him back, “Wait! No, they didn’t do this,” she said, soothing her brother. “Explain,” she said to the chieftain, her voice steely.
“We saved him, before the creature could finish its work. Now, leave all of you before he finishes you all. Yallah Imshi!” He said, dismissively, commanding his men to go forward, hunting the creature.
“I said, I got him,” her brother insisted to the chieftain.
The chieftain looked him dead in the eye and stated, seriously, “Know this, this creature is the bringer of death. He will never eat, he will never sleep and he will never stop.” The group watched as the chieftain walked away, his dark figure blending seamlessly into the shadowy corners of the ruins.
She sat in her room; her desk scattered with errant pieces of paper and artefacts of ages long gone as she stared at the map of Hamunaptra. The elusive city practically erased from all known maps, yet she was able to find a replica of it, hidden away between dusty tomes long-forgotten. The words of the chieftain swirled in her mind; his warning sat heavily in her chest. The image of the creature emerged before her eyes again as he called her “Priestess”. Sighing she walked to her balcony overlooking the busy street as she tried to dismiss the questions swirling in her mind. What was the creature? What did he mean? And most importantly, what did the chieftain’s warnings mean? As her doubts began to emerge once again, an image in black crossed her eye. She spotted him, the same chieftain who issued the warning, slowly slinking through the streets, blending within the crowd. Hastily she rushed from her room, chasing the elusive man.
Through the bustling streets of the city, she followed the chieftain slowly, trying to blend into the shadows as much as possible when she lost track of him around a corner. She looked around, trying to find the elusive man, when she turned around, coming face-to-barrel with the man. “Why are you following me?” He asked her, his barrel pointed at her forehead.
She stared at him, dead in the eyes, “I need to know more about the creature you fear.”
“Why?” He asked, suspiciously.
“When we opened that coffin, I felt darkness unlike any other I have felt on any dig, an all-consuming rage and pain. The creature looked at me and called me ‘priestess’. Does that mean anything to you?”
At her last words, the chieftain stared at her, wide-eyed as he lowered his gun. “You need to come with me,” he said with finality, dragging her with him till they reached the Museum of Antiquities.
“What’s your name?” she asked, conversationally. “Ardeth Bey,” he mumbled, looking around the room for something, or rather, someone. “Well, Ardeth Bey,” she said, testing the syllables in her mouth cheekily, “I’d say it was a pleasure to meet you, if we weren’t being hunted by a resurrected mummy.”
He smirked at the woman, enjoying her humor before quickly looking away, mumbling, “I would’ve preferred not being hunted by an ancient mummy at all, but yes meeting you has been…agreeable.”
Quickly moving through the corridors, he found who he was looking for, the curator at the Museum, Terence Bey, “Hello old friend,” he greeted the man, “I am afraid we need to talk.”
The man looked at Ardeth’s serious face, “Ardeth. What happened? And who is this?”
“The monster has risen, and he has taken an interest in her and her compatriots,” Ardeth said, grimly, glancing at the woman beside him.
“This is bad, very, very bad,” Terence said as he paced worriedly, trying to figure out a plan before halting, the second half of Ardeth’s sentence registering as he asked, “And what do you mean taken an interest in her?”
“He called me ‘Priestess’ when he saw me in the tomb,” she answered, glancing at the elder man’s widening eyes. “No…It cannot be, but…” he mumbled, bewildered as he rushed from the room, searching through shelves of books and scrolls as he searched for something.
“Aha!” he screamed, finally finding what he was looking for. Pulling forth an old fragment of paper he was about to start reading when a commotion halted him. Rick and his friends had made their way to the Museum. They glanced around looking for any signs of life till they were face-to-face with Ardeth, Terence and Rick’s sister. Bewildered but unwilling to back down, he drew his gun, pointing at the chieftain.
The curator addressed the group, “Ms. Carnahagn, Gentlemen.”
“What is he doing here?” asked Evie, glancing at the man draped in black, “And what are you doing here?” she asked Rick’s sister, staring accusatively at the woman, making her slightly uncomfortable.
“Would you really like to know or would you rather just…shoot us?” Terence asked rhetorically as Rick lowered his gun, saying that he was willing to take a small leap of faith.
The elder man led the group to the tomb display of Seti the Fist. Sitting on Seti’s throne, he began speaking, “We are part of a secret society. For 3000 years we have guarded the city of the dead, sworn at manhood to do anything and all in our power to stop the high priest Imhotep from being reborn into this world.” Ardeth chimed in, saying, “And now because of you, we have failed.”
“And you think this justifies the killing of innocent people?” Evie interjected, her moral superiority glazed in every word.
“To stop this creature, let me think,” Terence asked rhetorically before both Ardeth and him answered, “YES!”
“Question,” Rick asked, raising a finger, “Why doesn’t he like cats?”
“Well, cats are the guardians of the underworld. He will fear them till he is fully regenerated,” the older man answered. “And then he will fear nothing,” Ardeth chimed in.
“Yeah, and you know how he gets himself fully regenerated?” Daniels, asked in a panicked voice, while Henderson stared at the barrel of his gun, adding, “By killing everyone who opened that chest,”
“And sucking ‘em dry, that’s how!” Daniels completed, his southern drawl peaking under the panic.
“When I saw him alive at Hamunaptra, he called me ‘Anck-su-namun’,” Evie said, causing the Medjai and the curator to stare at each other in shock as Evie continued, “And right now in Mr. Burns’ quarters he tried to kiss me.”
“It was because of his love for Anck-su-namun that he was cursed,” the curator said in realization as the pieces started to fall into place. “Apparently after 3000 years…” he trailed off. “He is still in love with her,” Ardeth finished.
“Yes, and that’s very romantic, but what has that got to do with me?” Evie asked, fingers nervously toying with her necklace as she peered at the two men.
“Perhaps he will once again try to raise her from the dead,” Ardeth said, turning towards the curator in realization. “Yes,” the older man agreed, nodding solemnly, “…and it appears he’s already chosen his human sacrifice,” he finished as both turned to look at the young woman.
“But what does it mean, for me?” Rick’s sister chimed in, reminding them of her presence, “He called me ‘Priestess’. What does it mean?”
“Ahh, yes, you,” he exclaimed, before pulling out the paper he had previously retrieved from the shelves, “It says here, for the ritual to work, he will need two things, a human sacrifice and a priestess of the living. Someone with a connection to the afterlife, someone who can see more clearly than mere mortal eyes. Someone like…” he trailed off. “Me?” she asked incredulously. “Yes, you. Imhotep will need a bridge connecting to the afterlife to bring the soul of Anck-su-namun back to this world. The most potent of these bridges are priestesses of Isis, but since the cult of Isis is long gone, an alternative is someone with the ‘sight’, the ability to sense the dead, to see through the veil,” the curator finished.
“And if I do not agree to be the bridge?” she asked, trying to weigh her options.
Ardeth stared at her grimly before responding, “The last priestess he took for the ritual was found with her tongue cut and her eyes removed. A condition to keep her compliant and unable to chant the protective magic taught by the priestesses.”
Her expression faltered, feeling sorrow at the cruelty wrought on the poor priestess while being devastated about her own future if she refused to comply.
“Bad luck, old mum,” Jonathan said slowly as the words of the Medjai sunk in.
“On the contrary,” the curator said thoughtfully, “it may just give us the time we need to kill the creature.”
“We will need all the help we can get,” Ardeth interjected gazing at the skylight above as the moon hid the sun, bathing the earth in darkness. “His powers are growing,” she said, feeling a shiver of dread running down her spine as Imhotep’s magic enveloped the very air they breathed.
“And he stretched forth his hand towards the heavens and there was darkness across the land of Egypt,” Jonathan quoted.
Time slipped like the desert sand as Imhotep’s powers grew stronger. His attempts at acquiring the two women grew more frequent. One his sacrifice and the other, the priestess. After the death of Henderson, only Daniels remained as the last survivor who had opened the cursed tomb. The group once more rushed to the museum, hoping to find any clue on how to kill the creature, once and for all.
“According to legend, the black book the Americans found at Hamunaptra is supposed to bring people back from the dead. Until now, it’s a notion I was unwilling to believe,” Evie explained as Ardeth and Terence walked ahead, leading the group up a series of staircases.
“Believe it, sister. That’s what brought our buddy back to life,” Rick said sarcastically.
“I’ve heard this theory,” Rick’s sister exclaimed, face lighting up as she continued, “You’re thinking that if the black book can bring dead people back to life, then the golden book should be able to kill him.”
“That’s the myth,” Evie agreed before continuing, “Now we just need to find out where the gold book is hidden.”
As she finished her sentence, chants from a distance caught the attention of the group. Garbled voices forming one word, perhaps a curse, a prayer or something worse, for the populace walked along the street in unison, carrying weapons as they said the verb which was all three, “Imhotep.” The accursed name of the creature rang across the walls of the museum as the last plague dawned upon Egypt.
“Last but not least, my favorite plague, boils and sores,” Jonathan said, looking down at the disfigured people as they marched through the streets, weapons drawn.
“They have become his slaves. So, it has begun, the beginning of the end,” Ardeth stated, watching.
“Not quite yet it hasn’t. Come on,” Evie said with determination, surging through the halls till she stood before an inscription.
“According to Bembridge scholars, the golden book of Amun-Ra is located inside the statue of Anubis,” Evie said, trying to read the inscription and decipher it.
“That’s where we found the black book,” Daniels interjected, watching both women translate the inscriptions intently.
“Exactly,” the O’Connell sibling said, continuing her search for the text that pointed them to the golden book.
“Looks like the old boys at Bembridge were mistaken,” Jonathan quipped.
“Yes, the mixed the book up. Mixed up where they were buried,” Evie said, reading intently.
“So, if the black book is inside the statue of Anubis, then the golden book must be inside…” Evie trailed off as the doors to the museum burst open. The mob of Imhotep’s followers quickly rushed in, destroying artefacts as they hunted for the group.
“Quicker, Evie,” Jonathan said with urgency.
“Patience is a virtue,” she sang back as Jonathan rushed out to bring the car around.
“I’ve got it!” she exclaimed as Rick’s sister continued, “The golden Book of Amun-Ra is at Hamunaptra inside the statue of Horus!”
“Take that Bembridge scholars!” Evie exclaimed, grinning in triumph as she was pulled away.
Ardeth quickly grabbed the younger woman as well, dragging her through hidden corridors as they fled to the car. “Not so tightly,” she hissed into his ear as he rolled his eyes, loosening his grip.
Soon, the group were outside, quickly getting into the car as Benji screamed for Imhotep, alarming the almost-regenerated creature of their escape. Jonathan revved the engine as a mob of infected chased after the group, torches and sickles in hand.
They wove their way through the narrow lanes of the city, swerving hastily, shaking off the controlled men who had piled onto the car. Rick punched a man hanging from the car, dislodging him from the vehicle while his sister and Ardeth punched another. The curator also attacked the men, pushing off two while the car swerved dangerously. Two of the infected grabbed Daniels, pulling from the car and effectively delivering him into the hands of Imhotep.
The final piece to his regeneration was in his hands as the husk of what was once Daniels remained crumpled in an abandoned street. Imhotep had fully regenerated and now there was nothing that would stop him.
As the creature absorbed the remnants of Daniels, he was finally whole, she felt it ringing through her. His magic had changed; it had grown stronger, more potent, final. She gasped, holding onto Ardeth’s arm as the car increased its speed, her eyes glazed as if seeing more than what was before her, rasping out her next grim words, “He is complete. And now he will come for us.”
Ardeth looked at the woman clasping his hand as he steadied her. It was only now that he truly saw her as she held his hand in a car overrun by boil-plagued men. She gasped as one of the infected attempted to grab the Medjai from behind as she moved to shoot the being quickly. Ardeth ducked slightly, looking at the woman, impressed while slightly bowing in gratitude. She smirked lightly, blowing the smoke from her gun.
Suddenly, the car swerved once more, as the inhabitants were forced to abandon the vehicle being overrun. Soon the rag-tag group were surrounded by Imhotep’s army, the hordes approaching them with menacing steps and empty eyes, their only purpose to serve their undead master. The group backed away, attempting to escape, yet they found themselves cornered.
Soon the crowd split, giving way to a being swathed with black robes, his posture regal as he approached the group, eyes roaming over them as they finally landed on her, Evie, his prize, the final piece to resurrecting his beloved. Glancing beside her he saw the priestess, she looked the same as she did when he walked in the realm of men, breathing. Her disapproving gaze and set eyes were familiar to the man. He slowly raised his hand towards both of the women, with Benji translating his words, “Come with me my princess, it is time to make you mine. Forever.”
“For all eternity, idiot,” Evie corrected.
“Come, priestess, my princess, take my hand, and I will spare your friends,” Benji continued translating.
“Oh dear,” Evie said, worried as she looked at the surrounding mob. “Have you got any ideas, Rick?” his sister chimed in as she weighed her options.
“I’m thinking, I’m thinking,” Rick said seriously, as his brows contorted, struggling to find a solution to the mess they had landed in.
“Well, you better think of something fast, because if he turns me into a mummy, you’re the first one I’m coming after,” Evie whispered harshly to the man, threatening him even as her life hung in the balance.
Chuckling, his sister exclaimed, “I like her,” momentarily forgetting their situation as Evie moved closer to her, grasping her hand in comfort and nodding at her. Her eyes shining with hesitance and fear, yet beneath it lied determination, strong enough to undo even the pyramids themselves.
Both the women started walking towards the creature, as Evie laid her hand in his, his once rotting corpse now covered in warm flesh just as hers. The priestess stood beside Evie, as if guarding her from danger as the pair looked back at the group.
She glanced at Ardeth once before her brother forced her gaze back to him as he drew his weapon to shoot, yet Ardeth stopped him, grasping his wrist to prevent his rash actions. “Don’t! He still has to take us to Hamunaptra to perform the ritual,” Evie warned.
“She is right,” Ardeth’s accented words rung through the air as he continued, “Live today, fight tomorrow.” The Medjai said, glancing at the younger O’Connel, as if silently vowing to fight for her, to protect her.
Slowly, the temperamental man lowered his gun, putting it back in his holster as he looked the creature dead in the eye, promising, “I’ll be seeing you again.” The creature merely smirked in victory as he turned away, commanding the hordes to attack the diminishing group.
Quickly Rick pulled open a drain, escorting Jonathan and Ardeth through it as Terence stayed behind, battling the infected denizens and allowing for their escape. He breathed his last in battle as did the Medjai before him. Ardeth heard the pain-filled screams of the man echoing through the grates as the horde overtook him, ripping him apart. Perhaps it would never leave him, the sounds of his mentor’s final moments in agony, yet he sent a silent prayer to the gods to protect his soul as he passed on.
Imhotep walked through the musty halls of Hamunaptra with ease, navigating the paths of the ancient city with familiar steps, leading them to the ritual chamber, the very same one where he failed the first time. Overcome with memories of his lost love and the hom-dai he was determined to succeed, vowing to never surrender.
Evie was chained to the sacrificial table next to the corpse of his long-gone lover. He glanced at her, slowly caressing her delicate features as he promised to bring her back, to right his failures.
The priestess, on the other hand, was chained to a throne-like seat, facing the murky black liquid of the pool below, a signifier of the veil between life and death. A veil which she would gaze through and eventually tear.
Imhotep summoned his priests to ensure the ceremony went undisturbed. Then he began preparing for the ritual, placing Anck-su-namun’s canopic jars with reverence, arranging them in sequence to ensure that the sacrifice would be accepted.
Soon, the time came, as he climbed up the altar, his hands barely caressing Anck-su-namun’s face in the same manner he did when they were alive. Unlocking the black book of the dead, he started reading the incantations, his priests surrounding the altar as they moved in tandem with the priest’s chanting.
Armed and ready, the trio made their way through Hamnuaptra, looking for the two women taken by the creature when suddenly hands burst through the floor, clawing their way to the surface. The men were faced with the decrepit bodies of Imhotep’s priests.
“Who the hell are these guys?” Rick asked, glacing at the approaching mummies.
“Priests, Imhotep’s priests,” Ardeth replied, realizing who the mummies were.
“Alright then,” Rick said, nonchalantly as the trio started shooting at the mummies, quickly making their escape as they searched for the statue of Horus.
Finally, they found the elusive statue, frantically digging underneath as the groans of mummies rang louder within the chambers. They dug till they came across a wooden box containing the golden book. Their key to defeating the creature.
“The book of Amun-Ra,” Jonathan said, gazing at the golden cover with awe.
They were soon broken out of their stupor by a gunshot. Ardeth kept firing at the approaching mummies of Imhotep’s priests. Soon his ammunition ran out. He turned towards the two men, screaming, “Save the girls. Kill the creature,” before running into the narrow path filled with mummies.
Rick soon set off a stick of dynamite, burying the mummies beneath the stone and sealing the fate of Ardeth Bay in a single act.
The ritual had begun as she stared into the murky waters, her reflection distorted in the tar-like substance. For a few moments she could see more that what was visible to her, she saw the previous priestess who looked eerily similar to herself. A tiny young girl chained to the same throne as she thrashed, refusing to cooperate. She saw her fear and her pain as Imhotep punished her for her refusal. She watched as her tongue was removed, blood splattering against the floor as she choked. Yet, Imhotep kept her eyes intact, till the veil was pierced and Anck-su-namun’s soul emerged. Later, he ordered one of his priests to remove her eyes, damaging her for all eternity.
She broke out of the vision as she witnessed the chants, Imhotep’s voice growing louder as his magic saturated the air. His voice carried promises of offering, of sacrifice, as the creature talked about a trade. A sacrifice and a new body to absorb for his dearly beloved.
Slowly the murky waters started moving of their own volition. As she glanced into the moving abyss, she saw visions, of the past, of the scales of Anubis, of the afterlife. She saw visions of the past, past lives where she saw a stranger with kind brown eyes and a sweet smile. Memories of a modest house, within the city square as children ran around. The ornate walls of the temple of Isis as she led the morning prayers, humming and chanting in favor of their goddess. Finally, she saw the soul of Anck-su-namun, the veil had been broken, the ritual was almost complete.
The mysterious liquid surged, embodied by the form of the priest’s beloved, rising above her body, before returning as her corpse gasped for air. After three thousand years, she finally breathed air through her dust-ridden bandages.
She screamed in agony as her rotting corpse was filled with feeling once more, her lungs aching with every breath, her hollow eyes seeing for the first time in centuries, glancing around the room, till they landed on a familiar face, Nefertiri, the princess she had once battled, now her sacrifice.
Imhotep quickly leaned over the altar, his hands raised, clasping his dagger as he said, with finality, “With your death, Anck-su-namun shall live. And I shall be invincible!”
Evie and the younger O’Connel’s screams merged together as the dark blade within the priest’s hands started to descend rapidly. Tears spilled down her face as she watched, chained from her throne, vowing vengeance on the creature when suddenly Jonathan’s enthusiastic voice echoed through the chamber, screaming with the excitement of a child, “I found it, Evie! I found it!”
Imhotep turned rapidly towards the voice, his eyes widening as he saw the golden book clutched in the hands of the skinny Brit. “The Book of Amun-Ra,” he said with awe, lowering his dagger as he approached the man.
“Open the book, Jonathan,” O’Connel’s sister said, frantically, “It’s the only way to defeat him!”
Jonathan grasped at the book frantically, trying to open its goldenKal pages as Imhotep approached, menacingly, when he suddenly realized, “I can’t open it. It’s locked or something! We need the key!”
“It’s in his robes!” Evie’s voice supplied helpfully as Rick slowly moved towards his sister, cutting her free before quickly approaching the altar, slamming the sword against the chains that kept Evie bound.
Imhotep realized too late that Jonathan was merely a distraction as he commanded his priests to attack Rick. He masterfully defended himself against the army of Imhotep’s priests, dismembering re-animated mummies in all possible directions as Evie struggled to free herself from her remaining shackle.
Just as he thought all the mummies were defeated, he was pulled to the floor by the writhing torso of one of the priests while another held him down. A third mummy approached with a large tomb-stone, dragging his feet slowly from the sheer weight of the tombstone, each menacing step closer to his goal of finally crushing the seemingly unkillable O’Connel, when suddenly a swift wind cut the mummy’s feet, causing him to be crushed by the very same tomb-stone he carried.
Rick’s sister stood beside the crushed mummy, clutching a sword as she looked at her brother, “Need a hand?” She smirked at the elder man as she pierced through the mummies holding him down, “I hope you know; you’re never living this down. Getting pinned by mummies, honestly,” she said, extending her hand towards him.
“Yeah, yeah. Less talking, more fighting, lil sis,” Rick said, grasping her hand and rising to his feet. She quickly walked towards Evie, swinging her newly found sword at her remaining shackle, freeing the woman.
“Thank you,” she said gratefully, rubbing her wrist.
Meanwhile, Jonathan was in a corner, reading the cover of the book of Amun-Ra, “Here’s an inscription. Rashem…uh Rashem…” he mumbled to himself, slowly translating the text when he realized what the next symbols meant, he exclaimed, “Rashemulu Kashka!”
As soon as he finished the last syllable, two doors swung open, a battalion of pharaonic knights marched in, their weapons drawn as they awaited commands. Imhotep glanced at them, smiling as he ordered them to attack the group. Without completing the inscription, the soldiers were his to command, as the tether to the reader, Jonathan, had not been created.
The soldiers approached the O’Connel siblings and Evie at the altar, weapons drawn as Rick sarcastically exclaimed, “Oh, this just keeps getting better and better.”
“Do something, Jonathan,” Evie said, worriedly glancing at the mummified knights quickly approaching them.
“Me?!” Jonathan said, quickly backing away.
“Yes you! You can command them!” The younger O’Connel chimed in.
“You have got to be joking!” He exclaimed; his voice tinged with fear and hesitance as he clutched the book tighter to his chest.
“Finish the inscription, idiot. Then you can command them!” Evie ordered.
“Right,” Jonathan said, before quickly ducking away, trying to find a corner to read the inscription in.
The soldiers approached rapidly when Anck-su-namun suddenly appeared from behind with Imhotep’s abandoned dagger, attempting to stab Evie and complete the sacrifice. Evie dodged quickly, running away as she evaded the mummy’s attempts at murdering her, while Rick and his sister drew their swords, readying themselves to battle the knights.
Rick screamed at the knights in an attempt to intimidate them, yet when they growled back, their jaws unhinged unnaturally, he quickly ran away, buying himself time as he battled them. His siter remained in the chamber, battling the remaining knights as she tried to get closer to Jonathan. Finally, she caught up with the skinny man, his brows furrowed as he tried to read the inscription. His eyes lit up as he saw her, quickly approaching her as he pointed to the symbol of a stork-like bird. “I can’t figure out this last symbol. It’s a-uh a bird. A stork.”
She quickly glanced at the inscription, reading it as if it were her own tongue, “Amenophus.”
“Ah yes, I see,” he said, grinning before clearing his throat and commanding, “Huta-shem Amenophus!”
The knights instantly stopped, halting as they slowly withdrew their weapons moments before they scarred Rick, or worse. Imhotep tried desperately to command the nights, but he failed. Now that the inscription was fully read, they were tethered to Jonathan’s command, and command he did, “Fakushka Anck-su-namun!”
As the command left his lips, the knights turned with purpose once more, finding the female mummy and finishing her once again. Imhotep was torn between obtaining the book of Amun-Ra and helping his lover, ultimately choosing to go to her, yet he was too late. Once again, he was forced to watch his beloved’s death, as her screams echoed through the chamber.
Angrily he turned to the pair, Jonathan cowering behind the O’Connel sister as Imhotep threw her against the chamber, his rage directed at Jonathan, “NOW YOU DIE!” He said, choking Jonathan.
His vision started blurring as the creature lifted him off the ground, when suddenly Rick appeared, cutting Imhotep’s arm off and drawing his attention towards him.
Jonathan quickly grabbed the key for the book as Imhotep threw Rick across the chambers, just as he did his sister, quickly re-attaching his arm.
“Evie! I’ve got it!” Jonathan exclaimed, giddily as he ran towards her, quickly opening the book as they searched through the pages. Rick’s sister joined the pair, her eyes skimming the pages, fluent in the language as she stopped and pointed at an inscription. “It’s this one,” she said, her voice radiating with familiarity as if she herself had written the book.
Evie quickly looked at the inscription nodding, before both of them read it together, their voices minging with the magic within the words, “Kaadesh mal, Kaadesh mal. Paradoos, Paradoos.”
Suddenly, a smokey portal emerged at the top of the staircase, Anubis had come once again to claim the soul of Imhotep. The priestess bowed within the presence of the god, showing respect to the deity who felt familiar and strange at the same time. Imhotep’s soul was carried away by Anubis quickly, descending into the afterlife once more, yet his body remained.
“I thought you said it’d kill him,” Rick said, staring at the creature walking towards them with determined steps.
“It worked,” his sister said confidently.
Rick moved forward, quickly stabbing the creature as he stumbled back into the murky waters of the very waters the priestess was forced to stare into. The veil between this world and the next.
“He’s mortal,” Evie said, as his body returned to its original form, yet before he was completely swallowed by the waters, he muttered his final words, “Death is only the beginning.”
Hamunaptra started crumbling as the group quickly made their escape. They ran through the winding corridors till they reached outside.
Hamunaptra and all its riches had been swallowed by the desert sands, making it a myth once more. The small group stood watching as the city disappeared from their sights when suddenly a hand clutched Jonathan, frightening the man.
He quickly turned around to find the Medjai they thought was dead within the tunnels. “Oh, thank you. Thank you very much,” he said sarcastically, clutching his heart after the brief scare.
“You have earned the respect and gratitude of me and my people,” he said, as he glanced at the group from atop his camel.
“Well, it was nothing,” Jonathan said, shaking his head nonchalantly.
“May Allah smile upon you always,” Ardeth said.
“Where will you go now?” the younger O’Connel asked him.
“Home,” he said wistfully as he began turning his camel around.
“Will I see you again?” She called out after him.
“If Allah wills it,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as he watched the woman.
“And if I will it?” she asked, tilting her head at the Medjai.
“Then perhaps even fate would bend to your will,” he said, smirking at the younger woman before continuing, “I know, I would.”
Jonathan coughed, shuddering at the cheesy exchange, “Oh for heaven’s sake, must everyone fall in love in the middle of collapsing ruins?”
“Well, does fate happen to have an address or a phone number?” she asked, rolling her eyes at Jonathans comment yet unwilling to let the man with deep brown eyes vanish without a trace.
He smiled before throwing a small pouch towards her.
She caught it, slowly opening it, “What’s this? Usually, people have business cards not business pouches,” she joked, slightly. On opening the pouch, she found bird feed within.
“Bird feed?” she asked, incredulously.
Ardeth smirked slightly, “Horus, my falcon, will find you if I ever must. You will need this, if you wish for his cooperation.”
Her eyes lit up, “So, Horus is your messenger?”
“Among other things,” he replied, his voice low. “Do not lose it. He will know.”
“Oh perfect, a flying postman,” Rick muttered sarcastically as he watched the exchange.
“Well then,” she smiled, “I look forward to meeting Horus in the very near future.”
The Medjai smiled at the younger woman before bowing slightly and turning away.
The days had passed in a blur as her brother and Evie bathed in the light of new love, while Jonathan gleefully went through the treasure found on the camel’s back, calculating their worth and what he’d do with his share. She hadn’t seen the elusive Medjai yet, glancing at the small pouch she kept close to her, a solid reminder of his promise.
When she saw him again, she found herself on the roof of an old building she’d found during her days exploring. The building housed a few families but it overlooked the city, its warm lights twinkled against the darkness of the desert, as if a thousand lamps illuminating little paths in the dark. Each light was a word in its own, of countless tiny worlds created by the people illuminated inside, mulling about, occupied with their daily tasks unaware of how close the world had come to destruction.
It was peaceful, quiet. So, when she felt the wind shift behind her, she moved before she thought, brandishing her dagger towards the presence, only to find her dagger blocked by the sword of the elusive Medjai. “We have to stop meeting like this,” he said grinning at her.
Realizing who it was she quickly withdrew her dagger, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you rather enjoy being on the other end of my blade.”
“Know better,” he asked before charging at her once more. She swiftly blocked his sword as she tried getting close enough to slash him, yet he remained out of reach. The clash of metal rang through the night as the two figures blurred across the roof-top, yet neither struck to wound. It was almost familiar, a conversation that only the two could understand.
“Someone’s nostalgic,” she said, looking into his eyes as he evaded her once more, recalling their first fight. His eyes were filled with amusement, as if he were enjoying their fight more than he let on.
“What can I say? I haven’t met a fighter as fluid as you,” he said smirking.
“Oh, so you’ve been thinking about me? How flattering,” she said, grinning as she evaded another swipe.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he tsked.
“I don’t need to. I have you,” she smirked as she finally disarmed him, pointing her dagger to his throat.
She quirked an eyebrow, smirking as she commanded, “Yield.”
“You’re too cocky for your own good,” he said, glancing at the dagger then her.
“And you have no more options,” she said smugly.
Sighing, he looked into her eyes for a few moments before finally uttering, “I yield.” The words were soft, almost a whisper as they carried across the night. Her victory felt sweet, yet she his tone sent a shiver down her spine, as if promising battles in the future. Her face slowly bloomed into a smile, she couldn’t wait.
Weeks passed and finally the time came to bid farewell to her brother. Evie had been recruited for another dig at a different site and Rick had no intention of leaving her alone, lest she raise a second bout of apocalyptic mummies. Jonathan, on the other hand, intended on living freely and spending his new-found fortune, refusing to spend another day with the ‘revolting love-birds’.
So, that left her, in a beautiful city that was rebuilding after Imhotep’s wreckage, and a few weeks of vacation before her next dig. She decided to stay in the city, explore the contemporary culture and be a simple tourist for once. She rented a nice room in a hotel, locking the books away in a hidden safe lest anyone break in and steal them.
She found herself wandering through the marketplace as the merchants offered her overpriced trinkets as she wandered from stall to stall. Soon she came across a tiny stall with an older woman selling toys. Rows upon rows of tiny handmade dolls for children, some made from cloth and others from clay. She picked up one of the clay dolls when a voice sounded behind her, “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”
She turned around quickly to see the Medjai draped in his classic black robes, leaning against a shaded stall. “Ardeth!” she said, happy to see the elusive man, “Are you stalking me?” She asked teasingly as she turned towards the man.
“I am merely observing you,” he said, as he watched her.
“I’d say it was good to see you, but I wouldn’t want to be called a liar,” she challenged.
“I think that is the lie, my friend,” he called back mockingly. She raised her hands in mock surrender, smiling before calling him over. “Why’d you say you wouldn’t pick up one of the toys if you were me?” she asked curiously. “You are not from here,” he said frankly, “the shopkeepers can tell instantly, that’s why they offer you unfair prices,” he clarified.
“Aww, are you worried about me, the poor damsel, being swindled?” she asked, pretending to swoon. He chuckled slightly, amused at her antics while catching her as she swayed. “That’s what I get for being a concerned friend,” he said, teasing her as she straightened her back, turning back towards the stall with toys.
The pair stood side-by-side silently looking at the toys. Rows upon rows of toys in all shapes in sizes, some imitations of children, animals even vehicles. Her eyes lit up quickly as she pointed towards the back, whispering to the older woman about what she wished to purchase in fluent Arabic. He stared at her wide-eyed as she bargained with the older woman, bringing the price down to less than half of what the toy was probably worth. When she was finally satisfied wit the price the woman offered, she smiled and nodded her head, carefully removing her money from its hiding place before paying the woman.
She turned around with her package, a satisfied grin on her face as she saw the surprised Medjai staring between her and the parcel, as if resurrecting mummies were completely plausible but her speaking Arabic was not.
Tilting her head she asked, “Surprised?”
“When did you learn Arabic?” He asked her, impressed and surprised at the same time.
“Our grandparents were avid travelers, yet their greatest love was Egypt. They loved travelling here and made many fond memories here. I suppose they wanted some part of their happiness to be shared with us, so they taught us Arabic. Though Rick is rusty, I’m quite fluent,” she said, taking a step towards him before and continuing, “I think they were right.”
“Right about what?” Ardeth asked curiously as the woman paused, looking into his eyes, “I’ve made many fond memories here, some I cherish and others, I don’t want to part from.” The Medjai caught onto her implication quickly, as her eyes stared into his intensely, leaning closer slightly as she murmured the end of her sentence.
Slowly she blinked, grinning as she stepped away from the man, their proximity only catching her attention now. “Come, I want to see some of the other stalls!” She said, grasping his wrist as she dragged the powerful Medjai through the street. The fond eyes of the shopkeepers trailed after the laughing woman dragging the gruff-looking taller man behind her.
The pair wove through the bustling streets, buying trinkets and tasting delicacies till the sun began setting in an ethereal spiral of reds and oranges against the dunes. They found themselves sitting on the steps of a crumbling building, watching the sun slowly bleed into the horizon.
“She’s beautiful,” she said, her eyes watching the colors swirl across the clouds.
“Yes, she is,” he said, watching the sky before glancing at her. “Your brother and the others have left Egypt,” he stated.
“Yeah, just the other day,” she confirmed.
After a few moments, he inhaled, asking, “You didn’t join them?”
She turned to the man, smirking as he avoided looking at her, “Ardeth Bay! Are you trying to rush me out of this city? What? Afraid I’m gonna cause more trouble?”
He sharply turned towards her, smirking, “You always cause trouble.”
Her mouth opened in mock offense as she pointed at him, “How dare you? I am a delightfully upstanding citizen, Ardeth. Also, for your information, I have a few weeks of vacation before my next dig, so I wanted to explore the city.”
“I see,” he said, nodding, ignoring the first half of her sentence.
“But,” she began, “I wouldn’t say no to a handsome guide to lead me through the city…If he isn’t too busy with Medjai matters?”
“I think he could find some time in his busy schedule of, what did you say? ‘Medjai Matters’,” he answered, chucking as he thought of the places he wished to show her. His thoughts drifted to the night he had fought her, her sword moving elegantly in the moonlight as she swiped at him. A demon in her own right, as her sword slashed through his favorite robes.
Once the sun completely set and the stars hung high in the sky, the pair made their way back to the hotel, the Medjai guarding the young woman till they approached the gates of the elaborate building.
“Thank you for today,” she said gratefully.
He smiled at her, bowing slightly as he affirmed that he enjoyed the day as well before disappearing into the night. She watched his retreating back till he disappeared from her sights. Sighing, she carried the souvenirs she bought in her room, looking forward to the next time she saw the man.
“Have you ever thought of what life would be like if you weren’t a Medjai?” she asked, stroking Horus’ feathers as he pecked at the bird-feed Ardeth had previously given her.
“Starting with difficult questions right out the gate, hmm?” he evaded, smirking slightly as he glanced at the woman beside him.
“Humor me,” she said, sipping her drink as she passed him her flask.
Sighing he took a sip, savouring the burn. Perhaps it was the alcohol or the way she peered at him with her gorgeous eyes that had him spilling his secrets that he had buried long ago. “I don’t know, honestly. As a child, being a Medjai was an honor, it still is. It was all that I had wished to be, trained for since I could walk. When I finally reached manhood and my father placed the ancestral blade in my hand as I took my vow, I felt like I was finally fulfilling my purpose,” he paused, almost reminiscing about the past long-gone before rubbing a palm across his face and continuing, “But it has been years since then, and sometimes in the dead of night when the desert is cold and I patrol the city of the dead alone, I wonder if there was a different path for me. Perhaps one with someone I’d return home to. But that is merely a dream,” he said, taking a long sip from the flask again as he turned towards her. “Did that satisfy your curiosity?”
She rested her head against his shoulder, sighing before saying, “Hmm, for now. But if you were given the choice, what would you do now?”
He furrowed his eyebrows, deep in thought as he contemplated what he could do. He had been raised to be a soldier, to be a Medjai and life apart from his title almost seemed like a mirage. “I think I’d be an explorer, or an archaeologist,” he said, chucking as he tapped her nose, “It seems fun enough and your lot get into enough trouble with it.”
“Hey! That was rude!” she said with mock offence.
“Well, it’s my hypothetical. I could choose to be a chicken-man as an answer too,” he said seriously, his deadpan as he looked into her eyes caused her to burst into a fit of giggles, picturing the Medjai as a chicken-man.
As her laughter subsided, she added, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’d be a good explorer. You’re too morally just for something so morally dubious.”
“Oh? Then what do you think I’d be?”
“Well, I think you’d be a Historian or a Philosopher,” she said with conviction.
“Why do you say that?” He asked curiously. He thought that she’d have cast him as a warrior or a soldier, especially considering his experience.
“From what I know of you, Ardeth. You hold onto the past, the forgotten past as sacred threads in a world which has long forgotten. You understand more than your tough exterior lets on. You are fiercely loyal to your vow and to the past and to protecting humanity from those who would seek to harm it. I think you would be good at protecting the past, perhaps in a different capacity than you’re used to. Plus, I can picture you teaching children and adults alike about history,” she said, chucking as she continued, “Though, I imagine the adults would have a few more black eyes going around during your lessons.”
“I-I did not think of it that way,” he said, contemplating.
“It’s okay, sometimes we get stuck inside ourselves so much that we do not see what others do. Which reminds me. I have something for you,” she said, rising from their cozy nook near the window. She returned holding wooden pieces in her hands.
“What is it?” he asked, glancing curiously at the pieces.
Smiling softly, she answered, “It’s a star puzzle. I thought you’d like it, since you like looking at the stars.”
He glanced at her, eyes full of affection before returning to the puzzle within her hands. “How do you solve it?”
“Well,” she said dramatically, “It comes with a tale, a story if you will,” she said, slotting the first pieces together.
“Once upon a time, there was a young man, a prince who wished to win the heart of the fairest maiden in the land,” she said, slotting a few more pieces together.
“So, he climbed on top of the tallest tower to catch a shooting star,” she glanced up at him, leaning in and whispering conspiratorially, “and he did.”
“But in his excitement, he accidentally dropped the star and it shattered into a million pieces,” she slotted another piece in place, the malformed wood beginning to form the shape of a star.
“So, he frantically put the pieces back together to prove his love and devotion to her,” she said, placing the last piece to form the star. Holding it in one hand, she looked at its shape before placing it in his palm, “…and they lived happily ever after.”
“It is a lovely tale,” he stated, glancing at the star in his palm. “Try solving it,” she encouraged as he stared at the puzzle, contemplative.
“I’d rather keep it,” he said, nodding his head slightly, “Afterall, it is not everyday a princess gives you a star.”
She grinned, smacking his arm lightly as her cheeks grew warm. He was a charmer for sure, intent on giving her a heart attack at any rate, yet as she watched him gently roll the star in the palm of his hand, staring at the piece with child-like awe as if afraid to undo the puzzle, she realized that perhaps his charm wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
The pair met often on her balcony, simply gazing at the bustling city as night fell and talking, about their hopes, dreams and everything in between. Among the smoky haze of incense in her room and the gauzy curtains bellowing gently across her balcony the pair whispered secrets, younger than the desert yet held close to their hearts.
She sipped a sweet-smelling alcohol, a local brew he brought from her which was slowly becoming her favorite, while he sipped the scotch, she always carried on her.
“What kind of music do you like?” she asked, breathing deeply as the comfortable silence set between the pair.
He hummed thoughtfully before answering, “I don’t think you would know it.”
Sensing a challenge, she leaned forward, smirking at the man, “Try me.”
Leaning towards her, he whispered, “The songs of my people, typically played during festivals or weddings. And yours?”
Raising her hands in mock defeat, she said, “On the rare occasions I do get to enjoy the radio during digs, I like listening to music. It helps fill the silence. My current favorite is ‘Bailamos’ by Enrique. Come stand up,” pulling the man up as she walked inside, leaving the balcony door open as she placed a cassette in her Walkman (WM-40), explaining how the device worked to the man.
“Oh! I have one that I think you’ll really like,” she said as ‘Walk like an Egyptian’ blasted from the device. Smiling goofily she posed, imitating snakes with her hands as she walked like a poor imitation of a Pharaonic Egyptian. Ardeth looked both horrified and amused as she pranced around the room, moving to the music.
“You know Egyptians do not walk like that?” He asked incredulously. She laughed at him before cheekily asking, “They don’t?! The inscriptions must have it wrong then.”
He chuckled at her counter, watching her move as the song slowly ended. “Modern music….is…. well, something.”
“Aw, come on, I haven’t even shown you the good music. Trust me, this was just for fun. I promise the next one will be better,” she said, playing some of Michael Jackson’s hits, moving with the up-beat music.
“You cannot disagree with the king of pop, Ardeth. Admit it, it’s good, isn’t it?” she asked, looking at his stoic face slowly melt into a small grin as he admitted, “It’s a little good.”
She laughed gleefully at his reluctant acceptance before the song shifted. “Oh! This is my jam!” she exclaimed as the macarena played through the device, startling the man. Her playlist was certainly the most chaotic mix of music he had heard, with no reason or rhyme behind the rapidly changing themes, a reflection of their creator.
“Come on!” she yelled, pulling him towards her from his position beside the wall, demonstrating the steps of the macarena as the beat continued. He awkwardly followed her directions, quickly taking to the steps as his hands moved with inexperience, his face reddening as he danced with the beat.
“Shake your money maker!” her voice filled with mirth as she watched the intimidating medjai follow her directions and dance the macarena. She got an unexpected amount of joy from watching him dance, his awkward gait as he mimicked her movements was a joy to behold from the typically put-together medjai.
The little device decided to then put Ardeth out of his misery, figuring that this was the perfect moment to play ‘Every breath you take’. The atmosphere softened as she slowed her energetic movements, choosing instead to sway with the music in the center of the room.
Ardeth gazed at her, her eyes shut as is imagining she were in a far-away land. He was so focused on her, he almost missed the lyrics, “…every move you make, every breath you take, I’ll be watching you.”
“Your people enjoy songs about stalking,” the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. Her eyes flew open as she stared at him, her expression a mix of humor and disbelief as she processed his words, realizing what the lyrics implied, “Wha-NO! It’s- It’s romantic, okay, its supposed to be romantic.”
“I don’t think romance requires being watched by your lover constantly,” he countered.
“You watch me,” she replied.
“That’s different,” he defended, his eyes moving away from her as he looked at the wallpaper, finding it to be the most interesting thing in the world.
“How so?” she challenged.
“Because, I’m making sure you don’t get into more trouble or worse, burn the city down,” he said.
“Oh? Are you sure? Because from where I’m standing, I’m beginning to think you like watching me,” she teased, grinning and leaning forward.
He turned his head away from her, afraid of meeting her eyes, “That’s preposterous! I would never- “
“It’s okay,” she cut him off abruptly, “I like it, my little stalker,” she said grinning as she pecked his cheek before turning back to the device, changing the song. The first notes of ‘As long as you love me’ by the Backstreet Boys slowly filled the warm evening.
His eyes widened as he stared at her retreating figure, stunned by her audacious actions. Stalking towards her, he grasped her waist, slowly turning her around. He cupped her face, grazing her cheek with his thumb as he leaned in, placing a delicate kiss against her lips, afraid to shatter their blooming friendship.
Stunned by his boldness, yet refusing to let the man pull away she wrapped her arms around him, drawing him closer as she deepened the kiss, their bodies slightly swaying to the music.
Eventually the pair ran out of air, parting briefly as she rested her cheek against him, still holding him close as she softly sang along to the lyrics, “I don’t care who you are, where you’re from, what you did, as long as you love me.” She gazed at him, adoration clear in her eyes; he wished the moment would never end, the pair in her room on this perfect night, swaying to American pop music.
