Staying with the Dead

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

A young man enters a newly sealed Ancient Egyptian pyramid in hopes of everlasting riches. This might not be the smartest thing for him to do.

Submitted: July 28, 2018

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Submitted: July 28, 2018



 Sand sparkled like diamonds as the young man quietly observed the priests left tomb on the last Evening of Mourning. He stood behind a towering pile of sand as Khonsu’s bright orb traveled the midnight sky. He knew the priests at the temple would be out tonight, so this was his only chance to use their tunnels. It was the only way.

As he watched the priests meander from their temple the young man felt a breeze at his back. His eyes darted around as he heard a voice whisper, “Besa.” The elongated ‘s’ of his name came out like the hiss of a snake.

Seeing no one, Besa shook his head and inched his way towards the temple, making sure to stay on the edge of Khonsu’s light. Once in the temple Besa quickly moved the temporary altar and smirked at the wooden door hidden under it.

“Besa,” the wind whispered once more causing the young man to shiver.

Glancing around to make sure he was alone, Besa then grabbed the iron handle of the door and pulled it up. Quickly he descended the wooden ladder the priests left and started through the sandstone tunnels.

Slipping through the sandy tunnels, Besa noticed the graffiti left by the builders. Besa smirked at the wall covered in hieroglyphs before pick up a sharp piece of flint sticking out of the sandy floor and carving his own name into the wall. A stale breeze accompanied this action as well as his name on the wind, “Besa.”

Again the hissing sound forced him to look around the dark tunnel. What light the torch in his hand provided, showed no one in the tunnel with him.

Shaking his head, Besa picked up his pace until finally he emerged into a large chamber full of decorated walls. The images on the sandstone walls were in vivid hues of blue, red, yellow, and green. The gods came to life before his very eyes as they told the story of the late pharaoh's life.

Besa sneered at the representations as he strode purposefully towards the antechamber off of this room. With his eyes fixed straight ahead, Besa didn’t notice as the eyes on the painting followed his every move. Nor did he notice as the sand under his feet began to swirl.

As he stepped into the antechamber, Besa stopped cold. His skin became clammy from seeing the mountains of golden goblets full of wine and trays of food being reflected from the flickering flames of his torch! The aroma caused his stomach to gurgle. Scowling at this excessive luxury of the Gods and Pharaoh's, Besa stormed forward and grabbed a handful of grapes and stuffed them into his mouth, letting the juice drip down his smooth chin.

A couple of grapes rolled off of the platter and settled into the sand at Besa’s feet. Jerkily grabbing a goblet, Besa took a large swig from it. Choking, Besa spit out his drink only to feel sand coat his tongue and spill out onto the floor. The wind in the chamber picked up and Besa spun on his heel beginning to look wildly around the room.

As he looked up, Besa noticed that the painted eyes of the gods were now looking directly on him. Two of the statues had a thick, dark liquid leaking from their eyes. Besa stared up at the Gods with wide eyes and trembling lips until a wet droplet hit his forehead.

Reaching a trembling hand to his forehead, Besa dipped his fingers in the liquid and pulled them back to look. Sniffing the liquid told Besa that the dark, metallic, and tacky substance on his fingers was blood.

Letting out an earsplitting scream, Besa ran through the antechamber and into the main burial chamber. Following him was a figure made of sand. The figure had the head of a woman and the body of a lion. The beauty of her face matched the dainty steps she took to track her prey.

She let her sandy tongue peek out from her mouth to lick her lips as Besa entered the burial chamber of the protected. With a gentle purr she knocked one of her paws into Besa causing him to fall face first into the sand.

Besa screamed as he fell to his knees and heard his name whispered on the wind, “Besa.” Grasping the sand from the floor tightly in his hands Besa turned and finally saw what had been calling his name. “S-s-phinx,” he shakily whispered.

The Sphinx smiled hungrily at Besa revealing her sharp, pointy teeth. “What mortal dares to enter the Tomb of the Sacred?”

Forgetting who he was talking to, Besa rudely answered, “He only had guards when he was breathing.”

The Sphinx licked her lips, hissed out a mouthful air, and replied, “How little you know human. Those the Gods have chosen are protected beyond life so long as the people still hold true to us,” the Sphinx whispered as she flicked her tail causing the level of sand to rise in the room covering Besa’s hands.

Besa tried to rise to his knees but found that the climbing sand, which by now reached his elbows, weighed him down.

Besa shook his head as his chin brushed the sand that seemed to be climbing into the room.

“They don’t matter anymore,” Besa spat angrily.

“They will always matter,” the Sphinx purred with another flick of her tail.

“Not while we suffer,” Besa muttered as sand filled his mouth.

The Sphinx purred as her eyes glowed. “They will always matter,” she growled flicking her tail and raising the level of the sand once more.

This time Besa began to twitch as he choked on the sand filling his mouth stifling what little air he had left in his lungs.

“You, on the other hand, will mean nothing when future generations find your corpse lying in supplication to the pharaoh you would rob,” the sphinx finished with a cackle.

That high-pitched cackle was the last thing Besa heard as the sand filled his ears and covered his head for all eternity.

© Copyright 2019 Allan James. All rights reserved.

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