APH Fic The Mummy chapter 2
Title: The Mummy
Author/Artist: Me!
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Latvia, America, England, France, Lithuania, Russia
Rating: T for now.
Warnings: None I believe.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: De-anon from kink meme. A crossover of The Mummy with Alfred as Connell. Arthur as Evie. And Francis as Jonathon.
In the scorching desert a man sits up on a high wall his kepi sits at a jaunty angle. This man sits in the now Hamanaptra ruins and the year is 1925 and his name is Alfred F. Jones. He is armed to the teeth and looks out to the massive screaming horde galloping towards him.
“I knew this was gonna be a lousy day.” he sighed.
A doughy little Latvian man joins Alfred as he makes his way across the top of the wall.
“Personally, I would like to surrender.” Raivis said. “Why can we not just surrender?”
“Shut up and give me your bandolier.” Alfred said.
Raivis pulls off his cartridge belt and hands it to Alfred.
“Then let’s run away.” Raivis suggested. “Right now. While we can still make it.”
Alfred ignores Raivis and throws it on making it crisscross with his own bandolier.
“Now give me your revolver.” Alfred said. “You’ll never use it anyway.”
Raivis pulls out his pistol and chucks it to Alfred.
“Then let’s play dead, huh?” Raivis persisted. “Nobody ever does that anymore.”
Alfred slides it into his belt right next to his own revolver.
“Now go find me a big stick.” Alfred commanded.
“In the desert?” Raivis said. “What for?”
Alfred turns to Raivis and steps forward until they are nose-to-nose.
“So I can tie it to your back.” Alfred said. “You appear to be without a spine.”
The horde of warriors thunders forward now a half mile away. Together Raivis and Alfred run through the ruins.
“How did a guy like you end up on the legion anyways?” Alfred asked as they ran.
“I got caught robbing a synagogue.” Raivis said. “Lots of good stuff in them holy places. Churches, temples, mosques. And who’s guarding them?”
“Altar boys?” Alfred said almost sarcastingly.
“Exactly!” Raivis exclaimed. “I speak seven languages, including Hebrew, so my specialty was synagogues. How about you? Kill somebody?”
Raivis trips suddenly and accidently tackled Alfred to the ground. Getting up Alfred gave Raivis a nasty look.
“No, but I’m considering it.” Alfred said.
They both get up and run out of the gate and down the stone ramp.
“What then?” Raivis asked persisteningly. “Extortion? Kidnapping?”
“None of the above, thank you.” Alfred said.
“Then what the hell are you doing here?” Raivis exclaimed.
They both skid to a stop at the front line as they see the horde of warriors. The sound of charging horses is deafening and Alfred gives Raivis a big cheesy smile.
“I was just looking for a good time.” Alfred said.
Looking back at the warriors headed towards them Raivis suddenly panics and runs off. Alfred instantly stiffens.
“Oh shit. Steady!” he called.
The men around him gather courage from his words but onward comes the horde. The hoofs of the horses pounding in the sand. Several more men take off.
“Steady!” Alfred yelled before he said to himself “What the hell am I saying?”
The warriors let loose battle cries and screams as more soldiers run away.
“Steady!” Alfred yelled before he said to himself “What the hell am I doing?”
The warriors set their rifles and take aim. Alfred steels himself and cocks his own gun. The cartridge in his mouth suddenly snaps and he spits it into the sand.
There is a pause.
“Fire!” Alfred yelled.
The remaining soldiers fire their rifles. The blasts blow dozens of warriors clean off their mounts. The soldiers quickly reload.
“Fire!” Alfred yelled.
As the soldiers fire once more even more warriors fall into the sand. The remaining warriors open fire. Thunder and smoke rip the hot air and a third of the soldiers are killed instantly.
“Fire!” Alfred yelled.
The soldier’s remaining standing fire. The warriors spin off their mounts and crash into the sand. And then the entire warriors force plows into the ruins and through the soldiers. Alfred grabbed the barrel of his rifle and started to club the riders off of their steeds, fighting like a man possessed.
Raivis on the other hand is belly crawling across the sand in full retreat as soldiers fall dead all around him as he crawls through the front gate.
Alfred throws his rifle down and goes for his guns. He crosses draws with a gun in each hand and starts blowing riders off their mounts.
Raivis crawls faster and then he spots an open temple doorway amongst the rocks. He gets up and sprints for the door as the last of the soldiers are shot off their feet behind him. Alfred’s guns go empty at this moment.
“Son of a bitch.” Alfred cursed.
He turns and runs as fast as he was able to right through the front gate. Four warriors on massive Arabians charge after him. Alfred hurdles a stone column and hits the ground running. He spots Raivis inside the temple doorway trying to close the heavy sandstone door.
“Hey Raivis!” Alfred called. “Wait up!”
Raivis pays no attention to Alfred as he pushes harder.
“What are ya doing?” Alfred yelled. “Wait up!”
Alfred runs faster as Raivis pushes harder. The four horsemen lead the big column and charge after him, their horse’s hooves pounding.
“Don’t you close that door!” Alfred screamed. “Don’t you close that door!”
Raivis closes the door just as Alfred reaches it. Alfred slams his body onto the door and it doesn’t budge.
“I’m going to get you for this!” Alfred called through the stone.
He turns and bolts off around the rocks running for his life, weaving through the ruins. The Arabians are getting closer and closer, the pounding hoofs getting louder and louder. Alfred finally spins around and faces his attackers. The four massive horses crash to a stop in front of him.
The warriors raise their rifles to finish him off and Alfred just stand there, exhausted and beaten. Then he slowly lifted his right hand and gives them the bird.
The horses suddenly go crazy as all four of them rear up and two of the riders are thrown to the ground. The horses screech and bellow and snort in fear before they buck like fury and run away as if from the devil himself had scared them. The thrown riders get up and race after their mounts.
Alfred just stands there stunned and then he lifts his right hand and checks out his middle finger. Then he feels the air around himself and turns around. The shattered decrepit statue of Anubis stares back at him.
Suddenly the sand begins to shift under Alfred feet. He starts to back away keeping his eyes on the transforming sand. It looks like huge snakes are wiggling and writhing beneath it, forming lines and shapes as they drew a picture. Alfred quickly turns and runs off through the ruins as the sand stops moving and forms a picture of a screaming face.
Up on a ridge a group of riders watch Alfred stumble clear of the decrepit city. Alfred feels their presence and looks up. They are different than the previous warriors with their blue tinted skin and faces covered in strange puzzle tattoos. The Medjai who are still watching Kames grave after all this time.
The Medjai leader is a huge fierce man in black robes with dual scimitars across his waist. His face is both handsome and horrible, blue and tattooed this is Ivan Braginsky. His light eyes watch Alfred stagger off into the open desert.
Deep in the bowels of a museum in Cairo, Egypt laid the stacks. Rows upon rows of towering bookshelves filled with literature on the Antiquities. Standing at the top of a tall ladder between two of these rows and leaning against one of the bookshelves is a British man whose name is Arthur Kirkland.
Arthur pulls a book out from a stack under his arm, blows dust off of it, and then places it on a shelf with other books whose titles all begin with the letter ‘O’ and then grabs another book out from under his arm and read the title.
“Tuthmosis?” Arthur said to himself. “Now how did you get up here?”
Carefully so as not to lose his balance she looks over his shoulder to the bookshelf behind him where all the titles behind with the letter ‘TO’ and then he looks down seeing the long way to the bottom. Arthur gently sets the other books down on the top shelf, then turns, and gingerly starts to reach across the aisle with the Tuthmosis book. It’s a little too far so he stretches, reaching, and holding the top of the ladder with his fingertips. He’s almost got it, closer now closer.
And that’s when the ladder pulls away from the shelf. Arthur yelps, flings the Tutmosis book, and grabs the top of the ladder which stands straight up. Arthur holds his breath swaying precariously before he loses his balance and the ladder swings around and Arthur starts stilt walking down the aisle.
“Ah.” Arthur breathed. “Ah.”
The ladder crosses the aisle, does and about face, and heads back the way it came. Arthur clings to the top struggling for balance. The ladder teeters out into the main aisle and picks up speed. Arthur screams as it does a 180, spins into another aisle, and finally crashes to a stop at the top of a bookshelf. Arthur holds his breath and then sighs heavily.
And that’s when the bookshelf falls away from him and crashes into the next bookshelf. Arthur slides down the ladder and plops to the floor. He looks up just as the domino effect kicks in as each bookshelf crashes into the next and onward it goes. Bookshelf after bookshelf and thousands of volumes fling off the shelves and scattering across the floor. It finally ends as the last shelf crashes into a wall. Arthur’s eyes are closed; he opens one eye and looks left and then right and then opens the other eye and stares at the huge mess.
“Oops.” Arthur said.
The curator of the museum, Toris, came storming in.
“Look at this!” he exclaimed. “Sons of the Messiah! Give me frogs, flies, locusts! Anything but this! Compared to you, the other plagues were a joy!”
Arthur quickly gets up and starts gathering books.
“I’m sorry, it was an accident.” Arthur said.
“When Ramses destroyed Syria, it was an accident.” Toris said. “You are a catastrophe! Why do I put up with you?”
Arthur turns to him trying to contain himself.
“You put up with me because I can read and write ancient Egyptian, decipher hieroglyphs and hieratic, and I’m the only person within a thousand miles who knows how to properly code and catalogue this library.” Arthur said.
“Who needs smart men?” Toris asked. “I put up with you because your mother and father were our finest patrons, Allah rest their souls.” he said bowing his head. “Now straighten up this mess!”
Toris storms out and Arthur just stands there steaming. And then he hears a noise and quickly turns around.
“Hello?” he called, his voice echoing through the room.
Then he hears it again. Like feet slowly shuffling across the floor coming from a nearby gallery.
“Abdul?” Arthur called. “Mohammed? Bob?”
Arthur walks through the stacks and enters a room filled with treasures and plunder from the Middle Kingdom. The room is very dark and quiet; the only light is from flickering torches at either end of the gallery.
When the noise happens again from the far side of the room Arthur grabs a torch and looks around. His eyes stop on a statue of Anubis and another of Horus. He walks down the aisle his hands shaking. He passes by a sarcophagus and realizes that one is open.
Arthur looks around the room nervously trying to figure out who could have opened the tomb before he slowly leans forward with the torch and peers inside.
A hideous rotted mummy sits up suddenly screeching at him. Arthur screams, drops the torch, and back away scared out of his wits before he hears another sound.
A man laughing. From inside the tomb.
Arthur’s eyes narrow as a man crawls out from behind the mummy laughing his ass off.
“You!” Arthur exclaims. “You!”
“Drunkard? Fool?” Francis suggests. “Rat bastard? Please call me something original.”
“Have you no respect for the dead?” Arthur asks calming himself down.
“Right now, I only wish to join them.” Francis said grinning at his brother. Arthur punches him hard in the chest.
“Well I wish you’d do it sooner rather than later, before you ruin my career the way you’ve ruined yours.” Arthur said.
“My deer, sweet, baby brother.” Francis said. “I’ll have you know that at this moment my career is on a high note.”
He falls back and sits on the edge of a tomb.
“High note? Ha!” Arthur laughed. “For five years you’ve been scrounging around Egypt and what have you to show for it? Nothing.”
Francis excitedly starts scrounging around in his jacket.
“Oh yes I do!” Francis exclaimed. “I have something right here!”
“Oh no, not another worthless trinket Francis.” Arthur moaned. “If I bring one more piece of junk to the Curator to try and sell for you.”
Francis pulls out a small ancient box and holds it in front of Arthur. Arthur is instantly curious and grabs the box out of his hands.
“Where did you get this?” Arthur asked looking around it.
“On a dig down in Thebes.” Francis said grinning.
Arthur rolls the box around in his hands mumbling to himself as he translates the hieratics and hieroglyphs covering it.
“My whole life I’ve never found anything.” Francis said leaning towards his brother. “Arthur let me I’ve found something.”
Arthur’s fingers play with the various little slats on the box shifting them this way and that way, it’s like a puzzle box. Then suddenly it unfolds itself almost mechanically turning itself into a key. Sitting inside the open box is a folded piece of golden papyrus. An ancient map.
“Francis?” Arthur asked.
“Yes?” Francis said hopefully.
Arthur smiled at his brother. “I think you found something.”
The curator sits at his desk staring through a jeweler’s eyepiece at the key box. Arthur hovers behind him excited.
“See the cartouche there; it’s the official royal seat of Seti the First. I’m sure of it.” Arthur said pointing at the box.
“perhaps.” Toris says almost indifferently.
Francis leaned in from across the desk.
“Two questions.” he said. “Who the hell is Seti the First and was he rich?”
“He was the last pharaoh of the old kingdom.” Arthur said. “Said to be the wealthiest pharaoh of them all.”
“Alright good, that’s good.” Francis said excitingly. “I like this fellow, I like him very much.”
Toris picks up the map and stares at it silently for a few moments.
“I’ve already dated it; this map is almost four thousand years old.” Arthur said excitingly. “And the hieratics over here.” He takes a deep breath. “It’s Hamunaptra.”
Toris freezes suddenly very nervous then he recovers unseen by the siblings.
“My dear boy, don’t be ridiculous.” Toris scoffed. “We are scholars, not treasure hunters. Hamunaptra is a myth.”
“Are we talking about the Hamunaptra?” Francis asked.
“Yes. The City of the Dead.” Arthur said smiling. “Where the early pharaohs were said to have hidden the wealth of Egypt.”
“Right, right. In a big underground treasure chamber. Everybody knows the story.” Francis said. “The entire necropolis was rigged to sink into the sand. On pharaohs command, a flick of the switch! And the whole place could disappear beneath the dunes.”
“All we know is that the city mysteriously vanished around 2,134 B.C.”
Toris holds the map closer to the burning candle lamp.
“As the Americans would say.” he said. “It’s all fairy tales and hokum.”
He accidently holds the map too close to the candle and it catches on fire. Toris throws it to the floor and Francis drops to his knees and quickly puts the fire out and lifts it up. The left third of the map is burned off.
“You burned it!” Francis exclaimed. “You burned off the part with the lost city!”
“It’s for the best I’m sure.” Toris said waving away their concerns. “Many men have wasted their lives in the foolish pursuit of Hamunaptra, no one has ever found it and most have never returned.”
“You killed my map.” Francis said devastated.
“I’m sure it was a fake anyway.” Toris said. He then turned to Arthur. “I’m surprised at you Mr. Kirkland, to be so fooled.”
Toris reaches for the key box however Arthur quickly snatches it off the desk and gives him a very angry and suspicious look before leaving his office followed by his brother.
Author/Artist: Me!
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Latvia, America, England, France, Lithuania, Russia
Rating: T for now.
Warnings: None I believe.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: De-anon from kink meme. A crossover of The Mummy with Alfred as Connell. Arthur as Evie. And Francis as Jonathon.
In the scorching desert a man sits up on a high wall his kepi sits at a jaunty angle. This man sits in the now Hamanaptra ruins and the year is 1925 and his name is Alfred F. Jones. He is armed to the teeth and looks out to the massive screaming horde galloping towards him.
“I knew this was gonna be a lousy day.” he sighed.
A doughy little Latvian man joins Alfred as he makes his way across the top of the wall.
“Personally, I would like to surrender.” Raivis said. “Why can we not just surrender?”
“Shut up and give me your bandolier.” Alfred said.
Raivis pulls off his cartridge belt and hands it to Alfred.
“Then let’s run away.” Raivis suggested. “Right now. While we can still make it.”
Alfred ignores Raivis and throws it on making it crisscross with his own bandolier.
“Now give me your revolver.” Alfred said. “You’ll never use it anyway.”
Raivis pulls out his pistol and chucks it to Alfred.
“Then let’s play dead, huh?” Raivis persisted. “Nobody ever does that anymore.”
Alfred slides it into his belt right next to his own revolver.
“Now go find me a big stick.” Alfred commanded.
“In the desert?” Raivis said. “What for?”
Alfred turns to Raivis and steps forward until they are nose-to-nose.
“So I can tie it to your back.” Alfred said. “You appear to be without a spine.”
The horde of warriors thunders forward now a half mile away. Together Raivis and Alfred run through the ruins.
“How did a guy like you end up on the legion anyways?” Alfred asked as they ran.
“I got caught robbing a synagogue.” Raivis said. “Lots of good stuff in them holy places. Churches, temples, mosques. And who’s guarding them?”
“Altar boys?” Alfred said almost sarcastingly.
“Exactly!” Raivis exclaimed. “I speak seven languages, including Hebrew, so my specialty was synagogues. How about you? Kill somebody?”
Raivis trips suddenly and accidently tackled Alfred to the ground. Getting up Alfred gave Raivis a nasty look.
“No, but I’m considering it.” Alfred said.
They both get up and run out of the gate and down the stone ramp.
“What then?” Raivis asked persisteningly. “Extortion? Kidnapping?”
“None of the above, thank you.” Alfred said.
“Then what the hell are you doing here?” Raivis exclaimed.
They both skid to a stop at the front line as they see the horde of warriors. The sound of charging horses is deafening and Alfred gives Raivis a big cheesy smile.
“I was just looking for a good time.” Alfred said.
Looking back at the warriors headed towards them Raivis suddenly panics and runs off. Alfred instantly stiffens.
“Oh shit. Steady!” he called.
The men around him gather courage from his words but onward comes the horde. The hoofs of the horses pounding in the sand. Several more men take off.
“Steady!” Alfred yelled before he said to himself “What the hell am I saying?”
The warriors let loose battle cries and screams as more soldiers run away.
“Steady!” Alfred yelled before he said to himself “What the hell am I doing?”
The warriors set their rifles and take aim. Alfred steels himself and cocks his own gun. The cartridge in his mouth suddenly snaps and he spits it into the sand.
There is a pause.
“Fire!” Alfred yelled.
The remaining soldiers fire their rifles. The blasts blow dozens of warriors clean off their mounts. The soldiers quickly reload.
“Fire!” Alfred yelled.
As the soldiers fire once more even more warriors fall into the sand. The remaining warriors open fire. Thunder and smoke rip the hot air and a third of the soldiers are killed instantly.
“Fire!” Alfred yelled.
The soldier’s remaining standing fire. The warriors spin off their mounts and crash into the sand. And then the entire warriors force plows into the ruins and through the soldiers. Alfred grabbed the barrel of his rifle and started to club the riders off of their steeds, fighting like a man possessed.
Raivis on the other hand is belly crawling across the sand in full retreat as soldiers fall dead all around him as he crawls through the front gate.
Alfred throws his rifle down and goes for his guns. He crosses draws with a gun in each hand and starts blowing riders off their mounts.
Raivis crawls faster and then he spots an open temple doorway amongst the rocks. He gets up and sprints for the door as the last of the soldiers are shot off their feet behind him. Alfred’s guns go empty at this moment.
“Son of a bitch.” Alfred cursed.
He turns and runs as fast as he was able to right through the front gate. Four warriors on massive Arabians charge after him. Alfred hurdles a stone column and hits the ground running. He spots Raivis inside the temple doorway trying to close the heavy sandstone door.
“Hey Raivis!” Alfred called. “Wait up!”
Raivis pays no attention to Alfred as he pushes harder.
“What are ya doing?” Alfred yelled. “Wait up!”
Alfred runs faster as Raivis pushes harder. The four horsemen lead the big column and charge after him, their horse’s hooves pounding.
“Don’t you close that door!” Alfred screamed. “Don’t you close that door!”
Raivis closes the door just as Alfred reaches it. Alfred slams his body onto the door and it doesn’t budge.
“I’m going to get you for this!” Alfred called through the stone.
He turns and bolts off around the rocks running for his life, weaving through the ruins. The Arabians are getting closer and closer, the pounding hoofs getting louder and louder. Alfred finally spins around and faces his attackers. The four massive horses crash to a stop in front of him.
The warriors raise their rifles to finish him off and Alfred just stand there, exhausted and beaten. Then he slowly lifted his right hand and gives them the bird.
The horses suddenly go crazy as all four of them rear up and two of the riders are thrown to the ground. The horses screech and bellow and snort in fear before they buck like fury and run away as if from the devil himself had scared them. The thrown riders get up and race after their mounts.
Alfred just stands there stunned and then he lifts his right hand and checks out his middle finger. Then he feels the air around himself and turns around. The shattered decrepit statue of Anubis stares back at him.
Suddenly the sand begins to shift under Alfred feet. He starts to back away keeping his eyes on the transforming sand. It looks like huge snakes are wiggling and writhing beneath it, forming lines and shapes as they drew a picture. Alfred quickly turns and runs off through the ruins as the sand stops moving and forms a picture of a screaming face.
Up on a ridge a group of riders watch Alfred stumble clear of the decrepit city. Alfred feels their presence and looks up. They are different than the previous warriors with their blue tinted skin and faces covered in strange puzzle tattoos. The Medjai who are still watching Kames grave after all this time.
The Medjai leader is a huge fierce man in black robes with dual scimitars across his waist. His face is both handsome and horrible, blue and tattooed this is Ivan Braginsky. His light eyes watch Alfred stagger off into the open desert.
Deep in the bowels of a museum in Cairo, Egypt laid the stacks. Rows upon rows of towering bookshelves filled with literature on the Antiquities. Standing at the top of a tall ladder between two of these rows and leaning against one of the bookshelves is a British man whose name is Arthur Kirkland.
Arthur pulls a book out from a stack under his arm, blows dust off of it, and then places it on a shelf with other books whose titles all begin with the letter ‘O’ and then grabs another book out from under his arm and read the title.
“Tuthmosis?” Arthur said to himself. “Now how did you get up here?”
Carefully so as not to lose his balance she looks over his shoulder to the bookshelf behind him where all the titles behind with the letter ‘TO’ and then he looks down seeing the long way to the bottom. Arthur gently sets the other books down on the top shelf, then turns, and gingerly starts to reach across the aisle with the Tuthmosis book. It’s a little too far so he stretches, reaching, and holding the top of the ladder with his fingertips. He’s almost got it, closer now closer.
And that’s when the ladder pulls away from the shelf. Arthur yelps, flings the Tutmosis book, and grabs the top of the ladder which stands straight up. Arthur holds his breath swaying precariously before he loses his balance and the ladder swings around and Arthur starts stilt walking down the aisle.
“Ah.” Arthur breathed. “Ah.”
The ladder crosses the aisle, does and about face, and heads back the way it came. Arthur clings to the top struggling for balance. The ladder teeters out into the main aisle and picks up speed. Arthur screams as it does a 180, spins into another aisle, and finally crashes to a stop at the top of a bookshelf. Arthur holds his breath and then sighs heavily.
And that’s when the bookshelf falls away from him and crashes into the next bookshelf. Arthur slides down the ladder and plops to the floor. He looks up just as the domino effect kicks in as each bookshelf crashes into the next and onward it goes. Bookshelf after bookshelf and thousands of volumes fling off the shelves and scattering across the floor. It finally ends as the last shelf crashes into a wall. Arthur’s eyes are closed; he opens one eye and looks left and then right and then opens the other eye and stares at the huge mess.
“Oops.” Arthur said.
The curator of the museum, Toris, came storming in.
“Look at this!” he exclaimed. “Sons of the Messiah! Give me frogs, flies, locusts! Anything but this! Compared to you, the other plagues were a joy!”
Arthur quickly gets up and starts gathering books.
“I’m sorry, it was an accident.” Arthur said.
“When Ramses destroyed Syria, it was an accident.” Toris said. “You are a catastrophe! Why do I put up with you?”
Arthur turns to him trying to contain himself.
“You put up with me because I can read and write ancient Egyptian, decipher hieroglyphs and hieratic, and I’m the only person within a thousand miles who knows how to properly code and catalogue this library.” Arthur said.
“Who needs smart men?” Toris asked. “I put up with you because your mother and father were our finest patrons, Allah rest their souls.” he said bowing his head. “Now straighten up this mess!”
Toris storms out and Arthur just stands there steaming. And then he hears a noise and quickly turns around.
“Hello?” he called, his voice echoing through the room.
Then he hears it again. Like feet slowly shuffling across the floor coming from a nearby gallery.
“Abdul?” Arthur called. “Mohammed? Bob?”
Arthur walks through the stacks and enters a room filled with treasures and plunder from the Middle Kingdom. The room is very dark and quiet; the only light is from flickering torches at either end of the gallery.
When the noise happens again from the far side of the room Arthur grabs a torch and looks around. His eyes stop on a statue of Anubis and another of Horus. He walks down the aisle his hands shaking. He passes by a sarcophagus and realizes that one is open.
Arthur looks around the room nervously trying to figure out who could have opened the tomb before he slowly leans forward with the torch and peers inside.
A hideous rotted mummy sits up suddenly screeching at him. Arthur screams, drops the torch, and back away scared out of his wits before he hears another sound.
A man laughing. From inside the tomb.
Arthur’s eyes narrow as a man crawls out from behind the mummy laughing his ass off.
“You!” Arthur exclaims. “You!”
“Drunkard? Fool?” Francis suggests. “Rat bastard? Please call me something original.”
“Have you no respect for the dead?” Arthur asks calming himself down.
“Right now, I only wish to join them.” Francis said grinning at his brother. Arthur punches him hard in the chest.
“Well I wish you’d do it sooner rather than later, before you ruin my career the way you’ve ruined yours.” Arthur said.
“My deer, sweet, baby brother.” Francis said. “I’ll have you know that at this moment my career is on a high note.”
He falls back and sits on the edge of a tomb.
“High note? Ha!” Arthur laughed. “For five years you’ve been scrounging around Egypt and what have you to show for it? Nothing.”
Francis excitedly starts scrounging around in his jacket.
“Oh yes I do!” Francis exclaimed. “I have something right here!”
“Oh no, not another worthless trinket Francis.” Arthur moaned. “If I bring one more piece of junk to the Curator to try and sell for you.”
Francis pulls out a small ancient box and holds it in front of Arthur. Arthur is instantly curious and grabs the box out of his hands.
“Where did you get this?” Arthur asked looking around it.
“On a dig down in Thebes.” Francis said grinning.
Arthur rolls the box around in his hands mumbling to himself as he translates the hieratics and hieroglyphs covering it.
“My whole life I’ve never found anything.” Francis said leaning towards his brother. “Arthur let me I’ve found something.”
Arthur’s fingers play with the various little slats on the box shifting them this way and that way, it’s like a puzzle box. Then suddenly it unfolds itself almost mechanically turning itself into a key. Sitting inside the open box is a folded piece of golden papyrus. An ancient map.
“Francis?” Arthur asked.
“Yes?” Francis said hopefully.
Arthur smiled at his brother. “I think you found something.”
The curator sits at his desk staring through a jeweler’s eyepiece at the key box. Arthur hovers behind him excited.
“See the cartouche there; it’s the official royal seat of Seti the First. I’m sure of it.” Arthur said pointing at the box.
“perhaps.” Toris says almost indifferently.
Francis leaned in from across the desk.
“Two questions.” he said. “Who the hell is Seti the First and was he rich?”
“He was the last pharaoh of the old kingdom.” Arthur said. “Said to be the wealthiest pharaoh of them all.”
“Alright good, that’s good.” Francis said excitingly. “I like this fellow, I like him very much.”
Toris picks up the map and stares at it silently for a few moments.
“I’ve already dated it; this map is almost four thousand years old.” Arthur said excitingly. “And the hieratics over here.” He takes a deep breath. “It’s Hamunaptra.”
Toris freezes suddenly very nervous then he recovers unseen by the siblings.
“My dear boy, don’t be ridiculous.” Toris scoffed. “We are scholars, not treasure hunters. Hamunaptra is a myth.”
“Are we talking about the Hamunaptra?” Francis asked.
“Yes. The City of the Dead.” Arthur said smiling. “Where the early pharaohs were said to have hidden the wealth of Egypt.”
“Right, right. In a big underground treasure chamber. Everybody knows the story.” Francis said. “The entire necropolis was rigged to sink into the sand. On pharaohs command, a flick of the switch! And the whole place could disappear beneath the dunes.”
“All we know is that the city mysteriously vanished around 2,134 B.C.”
Toris holds the map closer to the burning candle lamp.
“As the Americans would say.” he said. “It’s all fairy tales and hokum.”
He accidently holds the map too close to the candle and it catches on fire. Toris throws it to the floor and Francis drops to his knees and quickly puts the fire out and lifts it up. The left third of the map is burned off.
“You burned it!” Francis exclaimed. “You burned off the part with the lost city!”
“It’s for the best I’m sure.” Toris said waving away their concerns. “Many men have wasted their lives in the foolish pursuit of Hamunaptra, no one has ever found it and most have never returned.”
“You killed my map.” Francis said devastated.
“I’m sure it was a fake anyway.” Toris said. He then turned to Arthur. “I’m surprised at you Mr. Kirkland, to be so fooled.”
Toris reaches for the key box however Arthur quickly snatches it off the desk and gives him a very angry and suspicious look before leaving his office followed by his brother.