Authors Note: This story was written for the 2011 National Novel Writing Month. An internal challenge to write a 50,000 word Novel in the month of November. I completed this challenge and this is the finished result. Please review fairly and honestly!
"This isn't over, Pharaoh!" A white haired spirit screamed. A deep chuckle rippled through the empty air as he slipped away into the night. A tri-colored, spiky haired kid collapsed to the sand, allowing large gulps of air to fill his lungs as his friends gathered around him in concern.
"That was downright crazy, Yuge." A fluffy blonde haired boy yelled above the silence. "But it's a good thing it's all over now." The four nodded in unison.
"I don't think we'll ever see him again." The short boy picked up the glittering gold pendant that had been around his opponent's neck just moments before. A dark voice chuckled within the pendant.
And you never did, Pharaoh. Lucky for me, however, someone else did.
As the Pharaoh walked into the light and away from his friends, everyone was confident that the stone would never be disturbed again. But humans are very unpredictable creatures. The group slept peacefully two years later as a handful of men pulled open the dusty tomb.
"Look at all this gold! There must be millions of dollars in gold in this room alone! And we could just keep it all for ourselves!" The weakest of the team members stumbled forward and hugged the stone like a family member he hadn't seen in several years.
"You know that won't be done..." A man in a dark suit walked down the musty stairs in disgust. The architect shuddered at the sound of the voice. "I hired you to find me something valuable for the upcoming historical auction. Not to try and swindle me." A groan emitted from deep inside his throat.
"Would have never dreamt of it, sir. I was..." A single gunshot silenced the rest of his sentence as he crashed to the floor; blood and thicker substances covering his team. A tremble ran through the men in the room but they continued working. The archeologists slowly lifted each gold piece out of the stone where it polished, examined, authenticated and shipped off to some undisclosed location. A white haired spirit sat patiently in a shroud of pure darkness. The bumps of the truck, the train, the plane were left unnoticed to him. Hundreds of rich entrepreneurs sat before his pendant as he was put on parade in front of them all.
"Sold to Dr. Edmond T. Langston for two million dollars, congratulations!" A white blonde slender man dressed from head to toe in white expensive cloth smirked confidently. The pendant was placed neatly into a black box and into a little black gift bag.
"So you think this is a good idea? You spent a great deal of money on that, sir." Hadel, his own personal butler whispered slowly.
"The cost was not important, it could have been much more. And yes, she may be a worthless deserter, but she is still my daughter." He kept his face stone neutral but he gripped the pen in his hand a bit tighter. He scrawled the name on the box quickly and handed it off. The pendant gave him a depressing feeling whenever he was around it and he wanted it away as quickly as possible. He felt a pain in his chest, the need to end everything, his life, just to be away from the wretched thing. He shivered and leaned back into the kitchen table chair.
A white blonde girl in ripped jeans sat on her ragged couch, staring blankly at the small TV before her. The news brought a depressing atmosphere inside the small apartment. News of the sort was sure to catch viewers. The world today revolved around money. A knock on the door made her shift her attention from the television. At 5:45 pm., it was too late for anyone of importance to be there, as if anyone would be there to visit her anyway. When they knocked again, she knew it wasn't a figment of her imagination, and got up to answer the door. A man in all brown looked cheerily down at her.
Delivery men came in two types and two types only. The overly cheery ones who acted like they would love to do this for the rest of their lives or the indifferent ones where you could never tell whether they really could care less about their jobs or whether behind that stoic look they are planning on stabbing you in the eye with the ball-point pen they hand you for your signature. Or maybe the overly cheery ones were the ones to look out for.
"Ma'am?" She looked up quickly. He had asked a question and she hadn't heard it because she was to busy thinking about whether he really wanted to stab her behind that smile. She was good at that. He handed her a clipboard, pen attached and went to dig inside the nifty little shoulder bag. She signed her name, Elaina Havert, and handed it back to him; having it be replaced with a cardboard box about as big as a piece of paper. She closed the door behind him as he departed with a cheery have a nice evening and was on his way. Her eyes wandered over to the upper left hand corner; the return address read Langston Enterprise. Her father. She blinked slowly. She flipped the box around in several different directions fairly quickly, attempting to figure out what was inside without actually opening the package. There were no special occasions coming up, no holidays, even her birthday, was months away. It had been several years since they had had any contact with each other.
A year ago she had moved out of her home, became emancipated, took her mothers maiden name, and moved across the country. He sent her money every once in awhile, when she needed it. She never asked him for anything, he just seemed to always know when times were growing tough for her; like he was keeping tabs on her. Watching her. The thought made her shiver and come back to her predicament. Whenever he sent her money it was directly to her bank account. He never sent any amount of money in the form of cash. He was a business owner, he knew better than to think that all of it would make it to its destination if he chose that method. And it had been months since he had sent her any form of communication; verbal or written. He had seemingly given up after the first few months. She detested talking to her father. The conversations always somehow lead to one topic every time. Would she come back home? She knew why he wanted her back home, and she wouldn't have any of it. Apart from that, why would he send a written letter by UPS? If he wanted, he could just find her new email address or her changed phone number.
Slowly, she peeled the tape from the top of the box, choosing the method that would take the longest, and pulled the top open. A sleek leather box fit snuggly inside of the cheap cardboard. She laughed noisily as a metaphor hit her that she was sure her father had intended. A raggedy, cheap appearance with rich luxurious insides, just like her. He hated that she chose to live such a simple and down right poor life style over a lavish life she could have if she only went back home. She pulled the cover off of the box and gasped at the contents. A pure gold piece of jewelry rested contently inside on a pillow of velvet. An encircled triangle with the Eye of Horus in the center, five cones dangling evenly apart on the lower half, stared back at her. She knew it was intended to be a necklace for there was a hoop at the top to fit a piece of rope through. A durable thick chain of gold was looped through it. She lifted it out of the box, afraid that it would somehow crumble underneath her fingers if she handled it to roughly. It was a little larger than her hand and seemed heavy. She reached out to touch it, so the light would reflect off of it and a shock swam through her veins.
She gasped in pain and went to let it go but the muscles in her hand wouldn't allow it. She stared at it as a strong burning in her veins washed painfully slow up her arm. Like morphine going through an IV. The pain was sudden and sharp but it began to dilute and there was suddenly nothing. She was just numb. She let out a sigh of relief as she achieved the high. The familiar numb she cried for everyday. She clutched the metal to her chest as the same sensation ran straight to her heart. She didn't know what was making this happen but she didn't want any of it to stop. A gleam from the pendant hit a white paper on the floor she had not seen before.
Try not to pawn this like you have everything else, Kitten. – Love Daddy