Elsewhere, far from the deathly silent streets of Cairo, further out past the wasteland known as the Valley of the Kings, Dr. Richard Harrison was combing through a tomb carved into a rock cliff. He was the very picture of the proud British explorer; a honed body, tanned white, and carrying an educated air about him. Tonight however, he was clutching a lantern and repressing his rage. He fumed silently as he searched the tomb. It had been clear since the mound of stone and remarkably strong seals were removed that this burial had been hastily built, and appeared to have been ransacked ages ago, even though there was no sign of an intrusion. It took months on end for Dr. Harrison to unearth this tomb, apparently for nothing. It would seem at first that there was nothing to be had for an archeologist such as Dr. Harrison.
But there were many strange things in this particular tomb, things that were unknown in the field. The stone walls were etched with bizarre hieroglyphs intermingled with more common symbols. Artifacts which seemed to serve no discernable purpose were scattered about the grave, bearing disturbing images of demonic creatures, violent acts, and strange occult ceremonies. And the mummy contained within a crude heavy stone coffin was remarkably well preserved, even for an Egyptian. Although his hired workmen had demanded that the expedition leave the tomb for the elements, Dr. Harrison would hear nothing of it. The strange sounds coming from the burial site only confirmed, in his mind, that his men had simply wanted to ransack this tomb for themselves. That too he would not tolerate. He would search this grave up and down until he found the belligerent Arab who dared to impede the work of an Englishman.
There was a scuffle of footsteps, and the doctor jerked his head to face the noise, his lantern following a second later. The footsteps were promptly silenced, but there was nothing to been seen. Dr. Harrison scowled, and continued searching. The footsteps returned once again, but as had happened the last time, nothing was revealed.
"All right you hooligan, this is my excavation site," the doctor said firmly, the voice of a British man used to being in control, "and I demand you show yourself to me and leave this area immediately! If you choose to do so, I promise you my mercy, and will be allowed to leave. If you choose to continue eluding me, I will react in turn, and hand you over to the authorities."
His response was a raspy chuckle from deeper into the tomb. Infuriated by this grave robber's mockery, the doctor forged ahead with his flickering lantern. His eyes widened when he realized where the chuckling was coming from. The sarcophagus chamber! This thief may have already destroyed an almost perfect mummy! He dashed through the deathly silent halls covered in mystic symbols of a world long forgotten, desperate to save the most valuable artifact in the entire grave. When he reached the burial chamber, he was stunned to see that everything was in the same condition he had left it in earlier in the day. The lid of massive granite coffin, unadorned in stark contrast to the rest of the tomb, was resting on the ground nearby. The mummy, the nearly perfectly preserved corpse swathed in decaying linen bandages, laid as passively as ever in the stone cradle. Dr. Harrison leaned over into the coffin to be certain about the state of his find.
Something about the corpse seemed off. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was something considerably bizarre. He scanned the ancient body, starting with the feet. The blasphemous charms and amulets were still in the bindings, the foul smelling herbs placed with the corpse like packing were untouched, and not even the layer of dust left by removing the lid seemed to have been violated at all. And still, something was different, something was wrong. And then the doctor reached the mummy's face.
The face, dead for at least four thousand years, was grinning wickedly.
The bold explorer, who had seen nearly every danger the British Empire had to offer, paled when he realized what he was seeing. He was too distracted to notice dead hands encircling his throat.
But there were many strange things in this particular tomb, things that were unknown in the field. The stone walls were etched with bizarre hieroglyphs intermingled with more common symbols. Artifacts which seemed to serve no discernable purpose were scattered about the grave, bearing disturbing images of demonic creatures, violent acts, and strange occult ceremonies. And the mummy contained within a crude heavy stone coffin was remarkably well preserved, even for an Egyptian. Although his hired workmen had demanded that the expedition leave the tomb for the elements, Dr. Harrison would hear nothing of it. The strange sounds coming from the burial site only confirmed, in his mind, that his men had simply wanted to ransack this tomb for themselves. That too he would not tolerate. He would search this grave up and down until he found the belligerent Arab who dared to impede the work of an Englishman.
There was a scuffle of footsteps, and the doctor jerked his head to face the noise, his lantern following a second later. The footsteps were promptly silenced, but there was nothing to been seen. Dr. Harrison scowled, and continued searching. The footsteps returned once again, but as had happened the last time, nothing was revealed.
"All right you hooligan, this is my excavation site," the doctor said firmly, the voice of a British man used to being in control, "and I demand you show yourself to me and leave this area immediately! If you choose to do so, I promise you my mercy, and will be allowed to leave. If you choose to continue eluding me, I will react in turn, and hand you over to the authorities."
His response was a raspy chuckle from deeper into the tomb. Infuriated by this grave robber's mockery, the doctor forged ahead with his flickering lantern. His eyes widened when he realized where the chuckling was coming from. The sarcophagus chamber! This thief may have already destroyed an almost perfect mummy! He dashed through the deathly silent halls covered in mystic symbols of a world long forgotten, desperate to save the most valuable artifact in the entire grave. When he reached the burial chamber, he was stunned to see that everything was in the same condition he had left it in earlier in the day. The lid of massive granite coffin, unadorned in stark contrast to the rest of the tomb, was resting on the ground nearby. The mummy, the nearly perfectly preserved corpse swathed in decaying linen bandages, laid as passively as ever in the stone cradle. Dr. Harrison leaned over into the coffin to be certain about the state of his find.
Something about the corpse seemed off. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was something considerably bizarre. He scanned the ancient body, starting with the feet. The blasphemous charms and amulets were still in the bindings, the foul smelling herbs placed with the corpse like packing were untouched, and not even the layer of dust left by removing the lid seemed to have been violated at all. And still, something was different, something was wrong. And then the doctor reached the mummy's face.
The face, dead for at least four thousand years, was grinning wickedly.
The bold explorer, who had seen nearly every danger the British Empire had to offer, paled when he realized what he was seeing. He was too distracted to notice dead hands encircling his throat.