The Mummy: Hunted By: Aleta Lundell
*Prologue: There has been a time where I thought: This is it. I'm dead. I've felt death before, taking over me, seizing my body in a powerful vise that couldn't be broken by anything. Like a veil of pure evil, I felt it draping over me until I couldn't control myself anymore, enough to bring the strongest person to their knees. I felt like a puppet of the darkness being manipulated by death itself, being an ancient Egyptian princess named Ahmanet who would stop at nothing until our world was remade into her own. I'd eventually broken that bond, but in return had to pay a terrible price: to become Set, the god of death. I never fully embraced my new harnessed powers since after I killed Ahmanet, I never wanted to hurt anyone. If I could just let go of my fears and close my eyes forever, to breath in and let go of everything. Let go of my memories. Let go of my disappointment. Let go of my pain. If only I believed death would be so kind.
*Chapter 1: Veil: I opened my eyes. Blink, blink. The moonlight shone on where I lay, as if wanting to lift me up and take me away from this hell on earth that I was condemned in. I wasn't dead; that much was obvious, but it felt like I wasn't entirely alive either. I lifted my aching head long enough to catch a glimpse of the darkness that threatened to swallow me whole before it hit the ground again. Licking my dry lips, I sat up slowly, grunting in pain from the bruises that covered my body. Lifting up my shirt, I found that the scar that Henry Jekyll gave me on my ribs had healed completely. I shuddered, remembering the excruciating feeling of the man's clammy fingers digging hard like knives into my ribs when he turned into Edward Hyde.
Psychopath.
If that wasn't bad enough, I was stranded in a ruined city. London. In the fog the city is blurred like an old painting; it could be a great work drawn by expert hand. The buildings and the trees were silhouetted black, two-dimensional. The streets yawned in every direction without only the old newspaper dispensers and street-lamps to break the view between buildings so high that the tops disappear in the darkness. It doesn't smell right at all, in fact it smells of nothing but the damp trees not yet in bloom. Without the fumes of the traffic, the odour is as fresh as any meadow without clean grass. My footsteps echoed like stones off a cave wall. I wanted to melt into the darkness but what was the point? This place had been abandoned a year ago, other than the odd roosting birds, I had the only beating heart in many square miles of concrete. The roads were like a carpet that had been walked on by a malevolent being. The Goddess of Death, as I liked to think about Ahmanet, brought destruction and death to wherever she went.
She's not the only bringer of death, Nick Morton. I whipped around and scanned the abandoned city for any source of the voice that I hopefully heard in my head.
"Who's there?" I managed to get out with a croak. I hadn't spoken to anyone in a year, and just saying something felt natural. But then I realized I would be anything but natural, anything but human. I wished for my gun, but it seemed to disappear from after the plane crash from Iraq after we discovered Ahmanet's sarcophagus. The voice chuckled and began to chant in an ancient language that I recognized:
"Here on the Sacred Grounds we offer a petition. Nick Morton comes by day after walking in the footsteps of the gods. His feats are mighty and have been recorded in the annals of the world. He is the Liberator and approaches armed with strength and bravery, Seeking the Hunter who awaits with tooth and claw bared, The one who Dances in Blood and Takes Hearts for Food…"
This wasn't sounding too good. Why couldn't Egyptian spells talk about food or parties or summer? Every spell I'd encountered since I accidentally unleashed Ahmanet had to do with gods and curses, mummies and death. Granted, I wasn't technically formerly in love with a mummy anymore, so some of that was to be expected, but why couldn't any of my Egyptian Indiana Jones adventures be fun? Something I could write about in a biography. Then again, gods and monsters would be a little interesting in a biography if someone read it.
"The one who will be his escort to the beyond, Now is the time for your paths to cross. Both are worthy. Both are ennobled of the gods. Both have accomplished deeds to prove their valor. Hunter, let your soul come forth and be not driven away. Hunted, clothe yourself in your companion's power and do not fear his embrace. Merge your yesterdays. Share your tomorrows. Two fighting souls dwelling in one body. Neither will be forgotten. Today they are bound; Today they are washed clean. Today they die and are reborn."
Wait. Did he say die?
"Breathe together. Hunt together. Battle together. Silent one, find your inner voice. Sightless one, find your true vision. Come find your match, O you warden of the world!"
When the voice finished the last line, his voice echoed with power. I could actually feel the spell settling upon me like a tangible thing. As it found its place in my heart, it sank. Like a heavy stone in a lake, the weight of it caused ripples of aftershocks that ran across my skin and shot outward as if I were the epicenter of an invisible earthquake. The wind gathered speed and whipped around my body faster and faster until I felt a sharp pain in my back that sent me to the ground. Slowly, I arose and knew that I would never be the same person, the same man, the same creature again. Tears stung my eyes, my vision tinged with red as I gritted my teeth. I thought that stabbing myself with the Dagger of Set was bad; this was worse. I spun around.
"Where is it?" I asked the mysterious voice. "Where did the pain go?"
"It disappeared," he answered.
"Disappeared? What do you mean it disappeared?" "The claw of Set was absorbed into your back."
"Into my…" I stood frozen for a moment waiting for the fallout. My back throbbed along with my pulse. Suddenly desperate, I whipped in a circle, reaching around to my back and trying to peer over my shoulder, but my fingertips didn't find anything. Again I wondered why I had to go and do something as dumb as falling for a mummy.
What the hell?
In a normal relationship, I'd only have to loan the girl some cash, give her a ride, or help her when she got into trouble. Instead, I had to mess around in the Middle East with my best friend/partner-in-crime Vail, fend off über-monsters, and be hunted by a ancient demon queen. Still, in my heart I knew I would risk anything for her. The chance to be with Jenny again was worth every sacrifice I was being asked to make. As I lifted my hand from my shoulder blade, my gaze narrowed on my fingertips. The swirls and lines on the pads snapped into sharp focus and I could see the pumping of my blood in the tiny veins just beneath the surface.
"What is this?" I whispered, suddenly ultra-aware that my senses had been heightened by the spell. The call of birds startled me. I felt a group of rats under the ground more than a mile away and smelled a river. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Something was out there.
Something powerful.
Something dangerous.
I could taste the metallic bite of it as I ran my tongue across my teeth. I flexed the muscles of my back and shoulders, warming them, for what purpose I did not yet know.
"What am I supposed to do now?" Even though I'd asked the question, a newly awakened desire was already tugging on me with invisible strings. There was something, someone, I needed to find, and it wasn't Jenny, much to my dismay. I missed her.
Survive. You must go, Set.
"Yes," I responded, though my voice seemed entirely unlike my own and my thoughts felt muddled.
Follow your instincts. You are not meant to take anything with you except your Dagger. You are to be tested.
I swallowed, already thirsty at the idea that I'd be wandering London without any supplies except for a nearly 4,000 year old relic that was mine after I defeated Ahmanet. Even I had to admit, it was a beautiful weapon. The jeweled handle was solid gold and the gems encrusted upon it were real. It had a double-dragon hilt with ancient runes etched into the blade. The curved blade was cold grey steel and still as sharp as the day it was fashioned, being gleaming, sharp and deadly. Despite my determination, tears filled my eyes. It was by sheer will alone that I didn't allow the tears to fall from my shut eyes. Jen needed me. I could do this. Lifting my face to the dark sky, I inhaled deeply both to steady myself and to try to get a sense of the direction I needed to go. The moonlight was rosy behind my closed eyelids and as I opened myself to the sounds and scents around me, something caught my attention, a distinct thud like the beat of a distant drum.
Set.
Yes? I asked mentally to whoever was speaking.
It's time.