I should really finish what I start writing before I pick up something new...

Shout out to mabelpinesfeatwaddles on tumblr for coming up with the great title.

Apep: The spirit of destruction, darkness, and evil.

Chapter One: Apep


The bright sun beat down on her skin, and made her sweat. Mabel was used to it, working every day in the fields and her hands gaining more and more callouses as she worked. Her brother was off in other part, carving stones as he was required to do. She wished she could spend her work with her brother, but she understood that things weren't like when they were younger, and she had to do her own things.

She wiped sweat from across her brow, smearing a bit of dirt there from her hands. It was midday, the hottest part of the day, and even though years of work had made her used to it, but the sun still beat down on her. She wished she could go and take a break, but that wasn't allowed.

The crack of the whip sounded before she felt the pain, and Mabel cried out as she felt it hit her back. She hadn't even realized that she had been pausing in her work, but apparently her pause had been long enough.

Her work spilled from her bag, and she struggled with trembling hands to pick up the harvest before another crack of the whip sounded. Her hands were still shaking when one of the guards walked up to her, placing his sandaled foot over the last bit of food she was about to pick up.

"Such a pretty thing." He cooed down, looking at her as she kept her eyes glued to the dirt. "You shouldn't be working out in the field like this, I have a much better place for you."

She swallowed thickly, unable to even think about asking to say goodbye to her brother. It wouldn't be the first time that a slave had been taken from the fields to be a personal slave for a guard, and she wouldn't be the last. He wouldn't listen to her if she begged to be returned home.

"Please, I simply wish to finish my work here." Mabel's voice was barely louder than a whisper as he refused to move. Everyone around them was pretending like they didn't exist, as though ignoring it would make the problem disappear.

"Now, is that any way to talk to the man offering you so much?" He reached down, grabbing her hair and forcing her off of her knees. "Don't worry, I'm going to take great care of you."

She had to use everything in her to not struggle and get away. It wasn't like she would get far, other guards were watching them. Mabel was never going to be able to say goodbye to her brother, or ever see him again. That was the real punishment he was inflicting on her.

"Sir, please, I only wish to finish my work here." Mabel tried again, now on her feet and still managing to stare down at the ground. She whimpered when he sighed, knowing she had pushed him but at the same time knowing she wouldn't have any chance of getting free as long as she didn't try.

"Oh, hush. You'll love not having to work in the mud anymore and being bathed in silks." He moved his hand from had hair, grasping her hands and pulling them together. The guard instantly bound them together, never fearing his eyes from her own.

"All bow before your pharaoh!"

Mabel was thankful for any distraction, even if that distraction came in a chariot. Their pharaoh, Bill Cipher, looked every inch the true descendant of royalty, with his blond hair and eyes the same color of the blue sky.

Though Mabel didn't know this, as she was instantly throw to the ground and on her knees. All she knew was that the chariot was gold, and what the stories told her.

"Don't say a word." The guard hissed, and for a moment she was confused, until she remembered that guards weren't meant to take slaves home without explicit permission of the pharaoh.

She wouldn't have said anything anyways.

Everything was silent as the pharaoh's chariot got closer, and actually stopped by their field. People hardly got word when the pharaoh came out, but it was always to chose a new personal slave. It was the only reason he left his life of luxury in the palace. For some reason he always insisted on hand picking his personal slaves. They never lasted more than a year under his care.

He didn't step down from the chariot, but his guards came forth, grabbing women. Apparently it was a woman's turn to serve him, as he switched from male to female every year. Mabel was completely silent, face almost pressed against the ground by how low she was bowing. She whimpered when she was grabbed, even though she was one of many young women in the lineup examined by the pharaoh.

Mabel kept her gaze lowered as women were dismissed from around her, and she was left with only one other woman to be compared next to. Mabel's gaze was glued to the ground, absolutely refusing to look up and risk death.

"That one." The pharaoh spoke, voice rich like velvet. For a moment, neither woman knew who he was pointing at, but then the guards came up and pushed one woman back, and Mabel was pushed closer to the pharaoh. Her stomach dropped, and she was practically shaking with fright.

Something traveled under her chin and forced her gaze up, and Mabel realized too late that it was the pharaoh himself using a riding crop to make her look up at him. She was nothing but skin and bones, completely covered in dirt, but he didn't seem to care, simply stating at her for a long moment. One guard came and tore her bag from her shoulder, and her hands clutched her stained dress now that she didn't have anything else to hold.

"Yes, you're perfect." He was still staring at her. Mabel wanted to cry, but refused to let her tears fall. "You're not even crying. How splendid."

His hand reached out, and Mabel willed herself not to flinch away as he touched her cheek, as though making sure she was real. She couldn't breathe, and everyone was still staring at them. The pharaoh eventually dropped his hand, and Mabel lowered her gaze back to the ground.

"Bring her to the palace." The pharaoh ordered before his driver snapped the whip and he was gone. She watched him go, feeling a guard take her arm as though afraid she would try to run. Mabel had no intentions of doing such a thing, because she knew she wouldn't get far.

"Come along then." The guard wasn't the same one as before, and he looked down at her with something akin to pity in his face. She guessed it was because her life had just been cut down from how many years she would have lived to just one. Even less than a year if she displeased the pharaoh too much.

Mabel was hoisted onto one of the chariots the guards used, still visibly shaking and wanting to cry when she realized she would never see her brother again. She tried to not let any of that show as they rode off, with the slaves going back to work as though she had never been there in the first place.


The palace was larger in up close than at the distance she always saw it at. She didn't get much of a chance to look at it before she was ushered inside and taken to a small room near the pharaoh's that she was told would he her own. Mabel disliked it immediately, wishing she was with her brother once more. Maybe she could run away.

She didn't get a chance to plan before a woman was there, bathing her and making sure she was absolutely clean. Mabel was sure she had never been so clean in her life with how her skin was scrubbed raw. As her hair was washed again and again to make it silky smooth, her mind wandered to the pharaoh once more.

"Stupid girl." The woman hissed, pulling back from Mabel and letting her dress in new clothes. They were nicer than anything she had ever seen before, or would have hoped to wear, but they were still slave garb.

Why her? Mabel didn't wish she was chosen. She wanted to be under the hot sun and with her people. She could only hope that someone would tell her brother that she was chosen, that she was okay and loved him. Mabel doubted anyone would tell him, but she still wished for it, and held on to that hope.

"You're the first one who hasn't cried." The woman muttered as she brushed out Mabel's hair, which was long and silky now from all the washing. Mabel stared at herself in the mirror. It was so strange to see herself clean with no dirt staining her face. "Maybe he'll keep you longer."

Mabel doubted it. She noticed how everything was gold though. The walls were gold, the clothes she was wearing, the jewels added to her hair. Mabel could almost believe that she was living in luxury. That maybe she would last longer than the other slaves. Yet he had done this to countless others before her.

The woman ushered her out of her seat and towards the door, and then down the hall. Mabel hesitated by the large, ornately decorated door, the door leading to the pharaoh's room. Mabel stared at the triangle in the middle of it, before raising her hand and slowly knocking on it.

There was no welcoming voice, as the doors slipped open with no noise. Mabel hesitantly slipped inside, looking around for the man she was meant to be answering too. It took her a moment to see him, but when she finally spotted him, she couldn't look away from the dark skin that clashed so perfectly with the marble he was laying against. The pharaoh slowly rose when she came in, gesturing her forward.

"There's my newest pet." He cooed at her, and she stood just where he could touch her, but he seemed to just want to admire her. Mabel could feel his eyes traveling over her.

"I knew there was a gorgeous girl underneath all of that dirt."

He brought his hand underneath her chin, tilting her gaze up once more. He seemed surprised there were no tears on her face, but brushed it off so quickly that Mabel wondered if she imagined it. She didn't dare brush his hands away from her, but her body language revealed that she just wanted away from him.

"No tears either, you're doing so well." He finally let go of her chin to just cup her cheeks, feeling her shake underneath him. "Now, just relax. Don't want me to get upset. Are you not happy with everything I've done for you so far?"

She knew the answer should be yes, that she was very happy with him and all the kindness he had shown. Mabel knew he could keep her chained in the basement and never see the real light of day again. Yet that didn't stop her from wanting nothing to do with him.

"Yes, I'm very happy, your highness." Mabel whispered, as though loud noises would cause him to get angry with her. Mabel stared up at him, though her gaze was focused on his chin and not anywhere near his eyes.

"Good girl." He mumbled, and she shuddered for a moment.

Mabel hesitantly shifted in place, biting her lip gently. The pharaoh's fingers went to stop her from doing that, freeing her lips from being torn apart by her teeth. Everything about him seemed fake, a mask, and she didn't know what was real. She didn't want to ruin things when they were just getting started. She wanted that last year to live.

"Master." Mabel whispered, and he looked delighted by the word. She hadn't spoken for a while, and her voice cracked from lack of use. "I know that I cannot leave you, and I don't want to, but I was wondering if I could send a message to my brother so he knows that I'm okay."

She thought it was simple enough, and he seemed to believe her lie about wanting to stay. She hesitantly reached out, placing her own hand over one of the ones cupping her cheek.

Yet at her touch, his grip tightened, hard enough to be bruising and dig into her flesh. Mabel whimpered, but didn't try to pull away from his touch. Yet he seemed to pause, just staring down at her as she struggled with the instinct to pull away.

"Have I not done enough? You're trying to leave me already." He clicked his tongue like he was disappointed in her. Mabel would have shook her head if he didn't have such a tight grip on it.

"No, Master, that's not what I meant." Mabel started, quickly realizing she didn't want to give the pharaoh a direct line of access to her brother. "I'm sorry, it was a silly request. I don't know what I was thinking."

He nodded, and she breathed a sigh of relief when he let go of her face. Mabel rubbed her cheeks to get rid of the pain in them, stretching in place as he moved further into the room.

"Come here, pet. Lay with me."

He lounged on a bed that was softer than anything she had ever felt before, and Mabel hesitantly crawled into it and laid near him on the bed. She felt his arms travel around her waist, holding her in place. It wasn't as though she would have tried to get away.

When his lips traveled along her jaw, she didn't pull away, and when day faded into dark she still didn't pull away, knowing that personal slaves must satisfy their masters in every way. Even if she didn't want to.