Inspiration again from another of Yazgar’s drawings for Inktober and Drawlloween, you can go HERE to see the awesome picture, and then, read the story. I promise, no clown’s this time.
“So what, you think it’s him?”
“We’ll know more once we get the fabric carbon tested, but, I think we’ve found him,” he says with a beaming smile. “Point the flashlight over here Mortimer, there seems to be an entrance to another room, obstructed by some of the artifacts.”
“Another room, are you sure?”
“Yes, yes, I’m almost certain, and I bet you’re thinking the same thing I am, aren’t you?”
“Please Hunt, don’t talk to me as if I was one of your pupils. Everyone knows it was said he was buried with all his riches, a massive fortune in gold and jewels, and none of that is here, so..”
“So if this really is Khufu, then a secret room could be where they stored his treasure,” he says, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“You know, they won’t let us take any of it for ourselves, don’t you?”
“If it is what we think it is, let them try and stop us,” he says with a nervous laugh. “Now help me move these effigies and other worthless trinkets, we should be able to make enough room for us to squeeze through.”
It takes the two of them over an hour to carve their way through the assorted figurines, vases and effigies, but, finally, they stand in front of the opening. Hunt turns to Mortimer, and they stand there for a few moments, staring proudly at each other.
Hunt holds out his hand, “Well Mortimer, are you ready to be a famous?”
Mortimer grabs his hand and shakes it vigorously, “Rich, and famous,” he says with a smile, they both make their way down the long narrow tunnel, until it finally opens out into a large room, where they both stand, breathless.
“It was all true,” Hunt says as he turns to Mortimer. “Every single bloody word!” He yells as he rushes forward, grabbing handfuls of gold coins and tossing them into the air, the torch light suddenly veers to the left, then the right and crashes to the ground, leaving Hunt in darkness.
“Mortimer! The light man, what happened to the god damn light?” He yells, but, no reply comes, only a gurgling sound can be herd, he freezes in place, then is knocked to the ground. For several long, agonizing moments, he lies there, waiting, but, nothing moves, no sounds, not even the gurgling. “Mortimer?” he whispers, as he crawls around in the dark, finally, after what seems like hours, his hand touches what he believes is the torch, but, its covered in something, sticky and thick. His heart races faster as he fumbles with it nervously, finally managing to switch it on, the light now a golden red sends him staggering backwards. Lying on the floor, a few feet away, is the twisted, dismembered, bloody remains of Mortimer, and, standing above him is, what Hunt can only assume, the reanimated corpse of the great Pharaoh Khufu, looking down on him. His well preserved, dried, decayed lips form a snarl, his dark, empty eye sockets, look towards him, and then, it attacks.