Disclaimer: Don't own the Mummy or any of its characters. Do not sue, cos all you'll get is…(looks in wallet)…a bunch of wallet-sized pictures and 600 Philippine pesos, which is equal to about…oh…twelve dollars. I do own the character of Nabila. This disclaimer applies to the entire story.
A/N: Please review!
Pairings: Evy/Rick, Ardeth/Nabila
Full Summary: Nabila was found in a sandstorm by Evy and Jonathan's parents. She grew up in an English society, and yet never gave up the ways of the desert. When the search for Hamunaptra takes place, Nabila jumps at this chance to find out more about her heritage. What if said heritage happened to be an ancient tribe called the Med-jai?
Chapter 1: Egypt's Secrets
Thebes, City of the Living, ground jewel of Pharaoh Seti I.
A young and handsome man stood on a balcony that overlooked the Ancient Egyptian city, a glare in his intense eyes. He was clothed in the raiment of the holy men, servants to the gods and goddesses of the Nile.
Home of Imhotep, Pharaoh's High Priest, Keeper of the Dead.
A beautiful woman with olive skin and long dark hair entered the foyer where the man was standing, gazing out over Thebes. She wore no clothes, and instead, tattoos covered her arms, legs, stomach, and chest, giving the illusion of clothes.
Birthplace of Anck-su-namun, Pharaoh's mistress. No other man was allowed to touch her.
Anck-su-namun walked through heavy doors to the foyer where the man stood, watching over Thebes. She pushed back the gold-beaded curtain and stepped into the bedroom. Imhotep was waiting for her.
But for their love, they were willing to risk life itself.
Their lips met in a frenzy of passion. Imhotep raised his hands to Anck-su-namun's shoulders, caressing them and smearing the black body paint. But, too deep in their ardor, neither noticed.
On the other side of the golden curtain, the priests of Osiris, men under Imhotep's command, began to push the heavy gold doors closed. But then, an imposing man in gold robes and wearing the Egyptian double-crown strode into the room, his arms out to hold open the doors. This was Seti I, Pharaoh of Egypt.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.
The priests backed away, their only explanations being bows to the Pharaoh. Anger rising, Seti pushed past the gold curtains, into the bedroom.
He found Anck-su-namun alone, standing beside a small statue of the cat goddess, her right hand slung over it and her fingers sultrily stroking the burnished bronze. A seductive smile played on her lips.
Seti made as if to step forward, but then spotted the smeared paint on her shoulder. "Who has touched you?!" he shouted, pointing a finger at her.
Anck-su-namun's glance darted downwards, then back up again, no longer seductive, but frightened.
Then, from behind him, someone took Seti's sword from out of its scabbard.
The pharaoh turned. "Imhotep!" he gasped. "My priest…"
Anck-su-namun smirked. She raised her dagger and plunged it into Seti's back. The screams had not yet died when Imhotep brandished the sword and stabbed the Pharaoh in his side.
As the two lovers watched Seti dying on the floor, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room. "Pharaoh's bodyguards," Imhotep warned.
The priests entered the bedroom, tugging away at Imhotep, urging him to make his escape. Imhotep tried to pull free, reaching for Anck-su-namun.
"You must go! Save yourself!"
"No!"
"Only you can resurrect me!"
"I won't leave you! Get away from me!" Imhotep snarled at the priests, but eventually allowed himself to be pulled away. He and Anck-su-namun shared a look of love before the High Priest left, followed by his underlings.
"You shall live again!" Imhotep called out to her. "I will resurrect you!"
Anck-su-namun whirled around just as the Med-jai entered the bedroom, defiance in her eyes. "My body is no longer his temple," she hissed, before plunging her dagger into her stomach.
From outside, Imhotep watched his lover's silhouette, pain and sadness on his face.
To resurrect Anck-su-namun, Imhotep and his priests broke into her crypt, and stole her body. They raced deep into the desert, taking Anck-su-namun's corpse into Hamunaptra, City of the Dead, ancient burial sites for the sons of Pharaohs, and resting place for the wealth of Egypt.
For his love, Imhotep dared to cause anger by going deep into the city, where he took the Black Book of the Dead from its holy resting place. Anck-su-namun's soul had been sent to the dark underworld, her vital organs removed, and placed in five sacred canopic jars.
The sun had set over the desert when Imhotep knelt in front of an altar at Hamunaptra, Anck-su-namun's body laid out on it. The canopic jars containing her vital organs were placed on the altar at her side. The priests were in a circle around the altar, chanting. Surrounding the cemetery was a detritus moat, filling the air with the stench of death.
A black book was held in the priest's hands, from which he began to read. Mist, in the shape of a woman, rose from the moat, howling. The spirit flew to the altar and sank itself into Anck-su-namun's body.
The dead princess's eyes flew open, and she began to gasp and twitch. Imhotep knew he didn't have much time—Anck-su-namun's vital organs had to be replaced before she died, again.
Anck-su-namun's soul had come back from the dead, but Pharaoh's bodyguards had followed him, and stopped him before the ritual could be completed.
But just as he raised the sacrificial dagger, the Med-jai burst in and swarmed through the startled priests. They grabbed Imhotep and his followers, dragging them away.
Imhotep screamed in fury as he watched the spirit rise out of Anck-su-namun's body, zoom upwards, then dive back down into the detritus moat. The woman closed her eyes, dead once more.
Imhotep's priests were condemned to be mummified alive.
A gold-painted man cried for help as he was forced into a sarcophagus, his voice mingling with the screams of the other priests
As for Imhotep, he was condemned to endure the Hom-Dai; the worst of all ancient curses, one so horrible, it had never before been bestowed.
Imhotep stared in fear as an embalmer approached him, holding out a sharp knife to cut out his tongue.
Then, he was wrapped in bandages. The embalmers laid him into a sarcophagus, but before the stone lid was pushed shut, a man poured an entire bucket of scarab beetles into the coffin.
Imhotep could only scream.
The first lid of the sarcophagus was pushed into place, then the head Med-jai stepped forward and locked it with a four-pointed key. The second layer was closed as well, before being locked by the same key.
The sarcophagus was lowered into a deep grave at the foot of the statue of Anubis.
He was to remain sealed inside his sarcophagus, the undead for all of eternity. The Med-jai would never allow him to be released. For he would arise a walking disease, a plague upon mankind, an unholy flesh-eater, with the strength of ages, power over the sands, and the glory of invincibility.
Three thousand years later, and Hamunaptra was nothing more then a pile of ruins in the sand. Men in dusty white uniforms carrying rifles and pistols scurried over the ruins, their voices—panicked, angry, and fearful—filling the ancient air. Battle lay in store for these men.
For three thousand years, men and armies fought over this land, never knowing what evil lay beneath it.
Tuaregs raced across the desert on their horses, letting loose their wild war cries. Behind a stone wall that once served as a border to Hamunaptra, the legionnaires aimed their rifles at the charging desert people.
Unseen by the men fighting in the desert, horses stood at the edge of a mesa overlooking Hamunaptra. The horses were unnaturally still and quiet, for they each bore a rider, all with tanned skin and tattoos. Among them was a man with black hair, dark eyes, and tattoos on his cheekbones—tattoos that proclaimed the chieftaincy of an ancient desert tribe.
And for three thousand years, we, the Med-jai, descendants of Pharaoh's sacred bodyguards, kept watch.
Down below in the arid wasteland, the commander of the legionnaires stared fearfully at the Tuaregs. He bit his lower lip, then he kicked the sides of his horse and galloped away to safety.
Two men, one, handsome and strongly-built, the other, small and weedy-looking, looked at their retreating leader, unable to believe his cowardice. The short one, Beni, turned to his friend and said, "You just got promoted."
The other man, Rick O'Connell, sighed deeply. "STEADY!" he yelled, then, in a quieter voice, "You're in with me on this one, right?"
Beni nodded and aimed his rifle determinedly. "Your strength gives me strength," he said.
"STEADY!" Rick yelled once more.
Beni looked at the Tuaregs for a moment, then shook his head. He stood up and took of at breakneck speed, yelling after the commander, "WAIT FOR ME!"
Rick rolled his eyes in an 'I-should-have-known' way. "STEADY!" he shouted again.
The men tensed, fingers ready to squeeze the triggers.
"FIRE!"
All of the remaining legionnaires, of which there were only a brave few, fired. A barrage of bullets rained down upon the Tuaregs, wounding some and killing many more. The shots stopped for a few moments as Rick and the others reloaded, then fired once more.
As the Tuaregs neared the stone wall, Rick began backing away, simultaneously reloading. He kept on firing, killing more of them. The Tuaregs' horses vaulted over the wall, and, using swords, began to kill all who were standing. One threw his sword at a retreating legionnaire—the curved blade landed deep in his back.
Rick just kept shooting. When his rifle ran out of bullets, he tossed it away and pulled out two pistols, alternating between each. When they, too, ran out of bullets, he tossed them to the ground and ran.
The sand burned beneath his feet as he vaulted over a fallen pillar, racing towards the shelter. He met up with Beni, who was running the same way. "RUN BENI, RUN!" he screamed. "GET INSIDE! GET INSIDE!"
Beni did as he was told, but as soon as he got into the shelter, he began to close the heavy wooden door.
"HEY!" shouted Rick. "DON'T YOU CLOSE THAT DOOR!" He jumped over one of his dead comrades, picking up his speed and yelling angrily at Beni. "DON'T YOU CLOSE THAT DOOR!"
Too late.
He slammed against the wooden door painfully, ducking when the Tuaregs shot at him. Rick ran. The Tuaregs followed, their war cries turning to cries of victory. He raced through the maze of Hamunaptra, hoping to find a hiding place amongst the numerous ruins. But finally, the desert people cornered him.
He closed his eyes, waiting for the final blow. He heard the click of guns being cocked, but no shooting.
Amazed that he wasn't dead, Rick opened his eyes. He saw the horses rearing up and whinnying in a panicked manner, before turning around and galloping away. Some of the riders fell to the ground. Then, the Tuaregs were gone.
Whispers seemed to echo through the desert. Rick turned around, and saw a statue of Anubis, the jackal-headed god of mummification.
A howling face formed in the sand, roaring its defiance to the heavens. But Rick O'Connell was no longer there to see it—he had fled for his life. The open desert waited for him outside Hamunaptra, the hoof prints of the Tuaregs' horses still visible in the changing sands.
"The Creature remains undiscovered," Ardeth Bey, chieftain of the Med-jai, said solemnly.
"And what of this one?" another of the warriors asked.
Rick then felt the eerie sensation of being watched. He turned around, and, for the first time since the legionnaires had reached Hamunaptra, saw the line of riders on the edge of the cliff. They made for an intimidating sight; black figures against the desert background.
Slowly, he turned around and stumbled onwards.
"Should we kill him?"
"No. The desert will kill him," was the answer.