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Going Forth By Day

The mummy managed perfectly well without a brain; that had vanished millennia ago thanks to an iron nostril hook and a priest who took pride in his work.

In life she had been a high ranking priestess who expected nothing less than what the Men of Anubis gave her. She was the daughter of Merenptah, a senior official of Pharoah Amenhotep the First. When she died, embalmers used expensive oils and spices, resins and amulets of power wrapped in the finest linen. They honoured her with brightly painted scenes of her life and furnished her tomb with gold and flowers.

Professional mourners tore their hair and threw ashes, competing who showed the most grief. They buried her with the Book of the Dead's magic spells to ensure smooth passage to the next life. Three and a half thousand years later, men from a far away land disturbed her eternal sleep.

Being put on display in the Portwyth City Museum was the final straw. Not surprisingly, the priestess woke in a terrible mood, giving the Curator first hand experience of eighteenth dynasty embalming. The last thing he saw before he died was the mummy bending over him, its eyes burning embers in a face like old boot leather. It held a curved tool and as the hook descended, he had time for one last scream. He should have followed his mother's advice and gone into accountancy.

Story by:

R. S. Pyne

submitted at 1:07pm

31 October 2010