Well my friends, this is the next to last chapter of this story. In the future I plan on writing more Mummy fics with our little slayer here. Anyone interested on collaboration, ideas, and all that rot can contact me or put in the review. Thank you all very much for the support.
Ivy Caddison/Faerie of Egypt: At first I was really confused when I went back to the reviews and saw a different penname there. I thought I had gone a bit crazy or something, well more crazy than I already am. No, I didn't know the dude who played Ardeth was in Resident Evil 2. Now I have to watch that movie, he's such a hunk. I can see that you really love to write mummy stories lol. How many have you written? This is my first mummy story actually. About Elizabeth getting stabbed instead of Evelyn, I contemplated on that and then decided that I would put her through the agony of losing her mother. I'm evil that way. Plus, it's fun to see her get all vengeful and stuff.
the-almight-berry: Sadly, it's true. Almost every author in the Btvsxover section has confirmed it. I sincerely wish it wasn't though.
immortalwizardpirateelf-fan: I like your tenth walker fic, but I haven't been able to finish it. Most people turn away from those because of the Mary-Sue factor, but they're just too narrow-minded. They automatically lump female OCs into the Mary-Sue category simply because she can handle herself, they don't even stay on to read to see her faults and personality leak through. It pisses me off how mean people can be.
Saxifrage: Hehe, guess you'll have to read and find out.
Thanks also to pappy, and lilylynn.
Chapter Nine Title: Death is Thy Name
--------------------
Scarlet ribbons leaked down Evelyn's black blouse as she fell over onto her back and lie there in the sand. The pain was...excruciating...but oddly bearable. She didn't want to die. What an absurd notion. Evelyn had far too much to live for her husband and children being first and foremost of them. Yet, she knew right as she had collapsed to her knees that she was going to die. The woman had stabbed her right in the stomach and the dagger had gone in deep. Perhaps with efficient medical help she could be saved. But there were no doctors here in the Lost Oasis of Ahm Shere. There were no hospitals nearby. It was hopeless.
"Evy!"
Whose voice was that? Why did it sound so far away? Was it Rick's? It sounded like his. What had happened to her brother? Her senses began to dull as copious amounts of blood poured out of her and the pain became less so when she saw her husband's anxious, but handsome face.
"Jonathan!? Jonathan!?" Rick yelled, looking frantically for his brother-in-law. Jonathan stumbled into view and Rick told him to hold Alex back. No, Evelyn thought. I want my son with me and my daughter. Where is Elizabeth? Yet it was an effort just to keep her eyes open and continue breathing that she couldn't get those words out.
She heard Alex's small, worried voice over the din of her husband's. "She's going to be all right, isn't she Dad?"
Rick swallowed his despair and the sobs that were threatening to break forth. "She's going to be fine. She'll be fine." His answer was hasty and lacked conviction. Rick did not want to believe what his instinct was telling him, what his trained soldier's eyes were seeing. His wife was dying and they could not save her.
He pried away her hands to look at the wound and let out a choked half-whimper, half-sob. "Oh my god." His hands were shaking. He didn't know what to do. "Lizzie! We need the....the medical packs. Lizzie?!" He saw his daughter slowly walking towards them, her beautiful face bearing the most painfully calm expression he had ever seen.
Elizabeth felt like she was in a trance of some sort as she walked slowly towards her mother and father. Her detached state was still prevalent; acting as a sort of safeguard to what was happening, but it was quickly beginning to disintegrate as she drew closer to her dying mother. She didn't know how bad the wound was, but by her father's state she figured her assumption was correct. The wound was fatal. Her father was still talking in a panicked frenzy, desperately trying to keep her mother awake.
Evelyn's eyes flickered repeatedly. She was so tired that she just wanted to rest her eyes for a while. Rick was speaking to her, begging her to stay with him. Couldn't he see she was trying? It was so arduous when the darkness was so alluring. The sweet abandonment of oblivion was calling to her and beckoning to her; she had to obey its whim.
She was feeling quite cold too. If she had had the energy to laugh she would have chortled ironically at that moment, because how can one feel cold in the middle of the desert during the day? An icy numbness was spreading throughout her weary body. The pain from her stomach was beginning to dull even more.
"You're strong. You can beat this. Honey, please, you...have to stay with me...Alex and Lizzie...we need you. Oh god, Lizzie, what do I do?" Rick was losing his senses. He couldn't seem to think rationally. His anguished mind couldn't seem to think past the fact that his wife was in front of him bleeding to death. He called upon his daughter for help because throughout the trip she had displayed a stunning amount of inner and outer strength and he had subconsciously let her take the lead.
At her father's anguished voice Elizabeth snapped out of her emotionless trance and felt the cumbersome weight of grief, despair, panic, worry, and all those other emotions one never wants to feel individually let alone all at once cascade down upon her. Why was he asking her what to do? Did he think healing powers or natural doctoring skills came with the slayer package? Oh how she wished that were true right now, but she was just as helpless as her father. Elizabeth put one hand on the bloody hole in her mother's stomach as if she could somehow transfer her slayer healing powers magically. She grasped her mother's hand and the fifteen-year-old young woman inside of her shrank down to the little girl she used to be and occasionally wished to revert to.
"Mummy? I'm here. Don't go," she pleaded, while salty tears escaped from the rims of her eyes. Evelyn turned her head at her daughter's voice and gave a weak, pained smile. She looked into the younger replica of herself and tried to lift her hand to caress her lovely daughter's face. Elizabeth raised the hand to her cheek and closed her eyes at the touch.
Evelyn drew in a shaky breath. She didn't have much time left, she could feel the inevitable abyss of death drawing closer. She drew up the last vestiges of strength left to her and stuttered. "Take...care of...them."
"No, sweetheart. No," Rick cried, stroking her cheek. He had no idea if those words had been for him to take care of their children or for Elizabeth to take care of him and Alex, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered now except for the grievous fact that his love was going to leave him forever.
"I...love...you...all. Tell....Alex...I love...him." Evelyn struggled to get all the words out. She wanted to say so much more, but it was too late. Her last thought before succumbing to death was, goodbye.
"Evy? Evy, come back! Evy!" Rick screamed as Evelyn's head lolled back and the lids of her eyes shut over the cobalt orbs. Shutting them out forever. No!
He began to sob uncontrollably and leaned down over his wife's body to lie upon her, while weeping onto her neck. The love of his life—the only love of his life—was forever gone from him. He would never again awaken to her serene and lovely face. He would never again bicker gently with her over the importance of this artifact or that. He would never again hear the lessons Evelyn would give their son on the ancient Egyptian languages and writings. He would never hear again the laughter shared between Evelyn and their daughter over some amusing event that occurred while they had been out shopping. His Evy. His angel of redemption who had rescued him from the hangman's noose in Cairo was dead.
Upon the moment Elizabeth felt life exit from her mother's body she had withdrawn her hand and clapped both hands over her ears to shut out the world. She wanted to shut out the pain, the constant suffering, and the horrible sounds of her father's sobs. She had never in her entire life witnessed her father cry. Like most typical males he bore the brunt of misery with a dry eye in public. He sought to act out in anger and violence rather than tears and sniffles.
It was one of the things Elizabeth had rarely thought about, but had almost come to depend upon throughout her hectic life. One of the stable aspects of her life that she needed in such instability. Now everything was falling apart and Elizabeth was being caught in the volley of debris. Her mother, the most vivacious woman she had ever known, the most lively, intelligent, clumsy, fearless woman on earth, was dead. And her father was sobbing and moaning piteously over her body. It threw her whole world askew. It was unnerving, pitiful, heart-breaking, and far too surreal.
She had to get away. She couldn't stand by and watch her father cry. She couldn't look at her mother's prostrate and bloodied form lying on the sand. Elizabeth rose to her feet and stumbled back towards the pyramid in a whirlwind of grief and shock. She saw her uncle holding onto Alex who was rendering Jonathan's jacket soaked with tears while the man himself had tears of grief for his baby sister sliding down his face. This wasn't right. Everything felt wrong and backwards and the total lack of sense of it all made Elizabeth want to scream.
Elizabeth leaned against one of the golden lion statues and then the impact of her mother's death hit her. She let out a hoarse, grief-stricken scream and slid to the ground. She withdrew one of her daggers and began to stab the ground. It became an outlet for her miserable fury, her pain, and her misery. She had stopped stabbing when she felt a small hand on her shoulder. Alex's red, swollen eyes were looking at her in fear and pain and she rocked back on her heels.
Why had she allowed herself to lose control like that in front of her family? She was the Slayer. She had to be the strong one. But it was so hard....it was too hard. She needed someone to hold her for a change. She needed her mother, but her mother was gone.
She took the boy into her arms and sobbed into his shirt as he buried his face into her neck. Sister and brother sat there together and let loose the tears for their beloved mother who had been so viciously taken away from them.
--------------------
Rick hugged his son to him. He felt the vestiges of tears and grief inside him numbing as the cold fury began to take hold. He wanted to make the bitch that killed his wife cry and scream in agony, which for Rick O'Connell, who never struck a lady, was surprising. Yet, it was that damned mummy, Imhotep, that was truly responsible. He would be the prime choice to vent his misery and lust for revenge on and the fact that it might save the world in the process was merely a bonus.
Jonathan was sitting beside Evelyn's body looking lost and forlorn. Of all the people in this world his baby sister had been most precious to him. She had always been his better half, always been the favored one of his parents, but that was okay. She had that appeal to her that made Jonathan understand why a man like Rick O'Connell would fall in love with her. Jonathan had always envied her a little for her intelligence and fearless attitude, but his envy was dwarfed by his love, respect, admiration, and pride for her.
He felt like he had failed his little sister. He had failed to do the job every big brother was supposed to do. He had failed to protect her. He should have seen Imhotep coming. He should have come to Evelyn's defense instead of letting that vile creature wearing a beautiful woman's face stab her. Now Rick was a widower and Elizabeth and Alex were left without a mother. And Jonathan had no sister. I hoped I made you proud, Evy. I know I was never a good brother to you in life, but maybe I can do better in your death. I'll clean up and take care of Elizabeth and Alex. I promise.
Elizabeth stood leaning against one of the golden lion columns lining the pathway to the pyramid. Several strands of her dark brown hair had come loose from the leather hair tie in her hair and were plastered to her face by the wetness of her tears. Her cobalt eyes were swollen and red from all the release of heartache and she felt so...diminished inside. Ever since her Calling she had taken comfort in the fact that her shortened lifespan would spare her from the anguish of having to bury one of her own. The possibility that one of her family would die before her always loomed just outside of the walls that she had erected within her mind. She had needed to believe that her family would remain safe while she fought the good fight. The walls had begun to crack when her younger brother had been taken and now with her mother's newly sudden death they were beginning to crumble.
She slowly turned her gaze to her left and saw her father kneeling down to the level of Alex's and talking with him in hushed, placating whispers. Her uncle was sitting by her mother's body with the expression that seemed to be the expression of the day today. Grief. She fingered the pommel of her sword still sheathed at her side and her lovely face hardened. It was not only revenge filtering through Elizabeth's veins that was turning them into a paradox of tubes running with ice and liquid fire, it was also a steely determination that she had witnessed so often upon her mother's face whenever there was some new ancient mystery to tackle. It was the same grit she had witnessed on her father's face whenever there was something threatening his family and he had to fight it.
She was bound by her duty to destroy Imhotep and the Scorpion King whenever he arose and the as yet unknown demonic foe and she was also bound by her love for her family to see it through. Damned if she would lose any of those boys situated to her left. Imhotep and that bitch of his would pay dearly for what they had done. Not only would she destroy them, she would rip their chance to rule the world with the army of the Scorpion King out of their arrogant hands first. Imhotep would never get a chance to defeat the Scorpion King with this Slayer around.
And while the prospect of ruling over the world did have a slight appeal (after all, she was human), using an army of creatures to bully everyone into submission was not the way to go about it. She would send that bloke's army to hell and make sure he and anything else that got in her way went along for the ride. The fact that in destroying Imhotep and the Scorpion King she would not only be ridding the world of unimaginable evil but also slaking her thirst for vengeance, well, that was a bonus.
She fingered the tip of the dagger she had stabbed into the ground and looked back to her brother and father with tear-filled eyes. She unclasped her crucifix and wrapped the chain around the dagger while kissing the cross. She sat it back on the ground at the base of the golden lion. With one last depressing glance at what was left of her family, the Slayer slipped away into the pyramid unnoticed. It was time to take out the vermin.
--------------------
"Stay here, Alex," Rick told his son. His voice wasn't stern or serious at all. It was merely soft and pleading.
The small, blotchy faced boy nodded and sniffled. He glimpsed over his father's shoulder and frowned. "Dad? Where's Lizzie?"
Rick's brow furrowed and he replied while turning around, "She's right be—Lizzie?!"
--------------------
Her pace was swift and measured as Elizabeth stalked the catacombs using her honed senses to lead her to her prey. She was formulating the remnants of a plan inside her head. It wasn't going too well since she was pushed nearly to her physical and emotional limits. She was at her wit's end and was relying on pure will to finish what she had come all the way to this forsaken place to do. All she knew was that if the Scorpion King was awake, she was to take him out first or die trying. The demons' mistress lady nor Imhotep could not be permitted to take the ancient menace's life.
Her hands were stained with the blood of her mother and she sorely wished she had thought to wipe them off. Elizabeth's sacred profession had rendered her rather desensitized to such things as blood and dismemberment, but the crimson life-fluid of her mother was a different matter. She could not stand the sight of it, but it seemed no matter how much she wiped her hands on her leather suit the blood was still stubbornly adhered to her skin. Tears unbidden at her mother's sudden death stung the Slayer's eyes. She breathed in a breath of stale, musty air and banished the feelings from her person. Cry later Lizzie, kill now.
She paid no attention to the hieroglyphics that adorned the golden walls not because she couldn't read a whit of it (which she couldn't really), but because she knew instinctively which way she had to go. Her body moved seemingly without provocation as she drifted through the passageways. She approached a stairway made completely of sand at the heart of the golden pyramid. Voices whispered in the air in strange languages and shadows played across the walls. As she looked down the stairs her face twisted into a grotesque smile of malice.
Imhotep and Anck-Sunamun stood at the bottom of the stairs, before the golden crest of the face of Anubis conversing in their ancient dialect. The young woman was posed and calm as she cast occasional glances down the long passageway that led to the chamber of the Scorpion King. It was there that her lover would destroy him and thereby take control of his army. She would watch the rivers run red with the blood of humanity at her beloved's side. Her black eyes gleamed with anticipation.
Imhotep surveyed his surroundings shrewdly feeling a slight inclination to turn back. It was unthinkable to turn back now, naturally. But the high priest could not shake off the feeling of trepidation rising in his body. He pointedly decided to ignore the feeling and with his beloved Anck-Sunamun's hand in his, prepared to take a step forward.
"Going somewhere?" a voice at the top of the stairway drawled languorously.
Imhotep whipped around and his dark eyes drew in on the O'Connell girl-child. His lips curled into a smirk fraught with wicked humor and malevolence. He walked towards the stairway as the girl walked down the steps with a beautifully crafted sword in her hand.
"Slayer," he murmured in his ancient language. His admission to the O'Connell girl's identity caused Anck-Sunamun's eyes to widen in understanding and horror.
"When will you people learn? I only speak English and French, so pick one!" Elizabeth retorted saucily, meeting the mummy's eyes.
"Long I have yearned to meet the maiden warrior with the strength of the gods. There had been no slayers of Egyptian blood in my time," Imhotep continued.
Elizabeth sighed. She had no idea what this ponce was spewing to her, and at this point she really didn't care. Without thinking of the potential consequences that could arise from such an impulsive action, she sprang with incredible speed. Even Imhotep had no time to defend himself as the Chosen One slammed into him. Anck-Sunamun shrieked in surprise as her lover and the Slayer tumbled down the stairs and rolled onto the crest of Anubis.
Elizabeth was hurled off the crest by some invisible force and she collided with the hard golden wall. Groaning in pain, the Slayer slid to the floor and watched as Imhotep writhed from the same force as if he were being electrocuted. She watched in shock as a cloudy white vapor was sucked out of the resurrected mummy and Imhotep let loose a howl of anger.
"What the bloody hell?" she muttered as she rubbed the back of her aching head.
After Imhotep's body ceased being besieged by paranormal muscle spasms, he shakily rose to his feet.
Anck-Sunamun was gripping the book tightly, her beautiful face panicked. "My love?" she questioned worriedly.
Imhotep didn't bother looking to Elizabeth. He lifted his hands and gestured towards the altar before him set with the thousands-year-old offerings to Anubis. He looked as if he was trying to exercise some telekinetic will on the objects, but he was unsuccessful. Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow in intrigue.
Imhotep looked back at his lover and told her breathlessly, "The great god Anubis has taken my powers from me."
Anck-Sunamun shook her head in denial, blatant fear taking possession of her lovely features, which did not go unnoticed by Elizabeth's sharp eyes. She sat there, away from the couple, appearing forgotten for the moment, which was fine with her. It gave her a spanking good advantage.
"He must wish me to fight the Scorpion King as a...mortal," Imhotep murmured reverently as he stared at the altar.
"Then you will not fight! Without your powers, he will kill you!" Anck-Sunamun cried in despair, rushing towards her love.
Imhotep embraced her and covered her mouth with his own in assurance of their love. Anck-Sunamun wept in his arms as Elizabeth watched the interaction in amazement.
"I have no idea what's going on, but I'd wager he's not so supernatural anymore," she said aloud to herself.
Imhotep picked up the black Book of the Dead and looked his love in the eyes. He whispered softly to her, "This is our destiny, my love. My destiny."
Anck-Sunamun grabbed the book and slammed it on a slab of rock before the gateway. "No! I do not care!" She let out a cry of anguish and laid both her hands on Imhotep's cheeks. "I do not want to lose you again."
By this time Elizabeth had risen to her feet, but her eyes were still intent on the obviously distraught pair. You know, if he wasn't an evil sod trying to take over the world and she wasn't a sleazy murdering bitch I would feel sort of sorry for them. It was rather fascinating to see the strength of their love, she had to admit. This love had survived even death and decay for over three thousand years. Now that was commitment.
She was beginning to feel a bit annoyed with the fact that neither of them had noticed she was still there; a real threat now Imhotep had had his powers sucked out of him. The young slayer leaned back against the wall with her hand on the hilt of her sword.
Imhotep kissed his lover again with intense passion that Elizabeth felt from where she was standing. The refined English girl inside of her wanted to redden in embarrassment at witnessing such a private moment and turn away, but the rowdy American wanted to smirk and watch to see what would happen next. Anck-Sunamun clutched to him desperately and continued to weep.
The romantic moment was interrupted by the cackling of maniacal laughter from the large gateway enshrouded in a swirling mist. A cloaked form stepped from the mist and Elizabeth closed her eyes and cursed silently as she realized who it was. There's public enemy number three.
--------------------
The deafening palpitations of his heart were making Rick go crazy as he ran through the catacombs, torch in hand, eyes searching frantically for signs of his daughter. Were he in his rational state, he wouldn't have worried so much because he knew now more than ever that Elizabeth could handle herself better than anyone. Yet, with the recent and sudden death of his wife Rick was terrified for his child and terrified of losing another person he loved. He had just lost he love of his life, he didn't think he could handle losing his firstborn child so soon after.
A surge of energy flew down the passageway and surpassed Rick, lighting the torches lining the walls in brackets on fire anew. Rick paused in his search and looked around him in perplexity.
"Okay," he murmured, feeling the desire more than ever to get Elizabeth, kill Imhotep and that Scorpion King, and leave this accursed place forever.
He entered a scorpion chamber and saw the Curator standing before the wall with his arm buried in the wall. The wizened scholar cackled triumphantly at the sight of his lord's sworn enemy.
"You are too late, O'Connell! I have awakened the Army of Anubis! Soon my Lord Imhotep will take command and destroy you and yours!" the Curator cried out in mad glee.
Rick's eyes flew to the double-bladed axe in one of the scorpion statue's hands and he withdrew the weapon. He appraised it with satisfaction and turned back to the Curator. His voice was eerily hollow and flat as he said, "Not after I get through with him."
The ex-Legionnaire began to leave when the Curator screamed in sudden agony. Rick whipped around and brandished the axe as the Curator struggled to pull his arm out of the hole. The warrior backed away as the older man continued to screech in excruciating pain.
Rick witnessed in horror as the Curator withdrew what was left of his hand from the hole. There was nothing left of the limb save a skinless, grotesque likeness. The old man whimpered from the pain and looked near to collapse. Rick left the man there knowing he was no longer a threat to him in the state he was in.
--------------------
"It would seem your god does not want you to fight with your impressive powers. Excellent. Makes my work easier," a low, seductive voice announced.
Well, at least she's speaking English, Elizabeth thought to herself grimly as she unsheathed her sword. The figure turned its hidden gaze on her and Elizabeth could only imagine the manner of expressions running across that thing's face. If it even had a face one could see expressions on.
"Slayer, it is so lovely to finally meet you. I have heard much about you," the demon lady addressed cheerfully.
"Charmed," Elizabeth deadpanned, advancing closer.
--------------------
Jonathan sat on the sand as far away from his sister's body as he could bear to be. His hazel eyes were bloodshot and itchy from tears as he stared off into space. His nephew sat beside him with his head buried in his hands, residual sobs shaking the boy's form. Jonathan felt his heart clench painfully at watching Alex weep over his dead mother. The man looked back towards the pyramid and felt a flutter of worry for Rick and his niece. Would they return to him and Alex alive? Elizabeth and Rick couldn't perish as well, because then Alex would be left with no one save himself. And Jonathan did not think he was a proper candidate to care for his nephew. It wasn't that he didn't want to, it was just that he doubted he was capable of it. He didn't want to shame his dead sister by ruining Alex.
He glanced over at Alex while trying to thinking of something, anything, to say that would console the child. Jonathan groped about for the words he needed to soothe the eight-year-old's pain, but he kept drawing up blanks. This happened quite a lot. What could one say to an eight-year-old boy who just witnessed his mother get stabbed to death and was now wondering over the impending fate of his father and elder sister?
"Try to...think....think of it this way, Alex. She's gone to a better place," he tried. "You know, like it says in the good book."
Alex's head snapped up in a gasp of realization. An odd quirk about this particular eight-year-old who was so much like his mother in personality and so much like his father in looks was that he was extraordinarily intelligent for such a young age. His mind was able to instantly latch on to often bizarre, but credible solutions to conflicts. "The book!"
Jonathan started at his nephew's strange response and stammered, "What?"
Alex wasted no time. He jumped to his feet and proceeded to pull his uncle to his own feet. "That's it! That's it, Uncle Jon! Come on! We have to get the book!"
Alex knew that what his young mind was formulating to do could have severe consequences, but he paid them no mind. He didn't know what any of his family members would do in such a predicament, but he did not care. All that mattered is that he may have found a way to put the fire back in his family again. And that fire was Evelyn Carnahan O'Connell.
--------------------
God I love that kid. He's such an adorable little brainiac.