Two

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Ahkmanrah's screams continued. At the beginning of each night Damien would wake to the sound of screaming and banging, howling cries echoing through the door and round the Egyptian exhibit. The trapped pharaoh would scream and shove at the sarcophagus lid for over half an hour until he tired himself out. Damien would pace his tent, forced to listen to the noise over and over again. The noise slowly chipping away at his resolve. His fear of the mummified pharaoh weakening as pity over took him. The thought of being trapped in a coffin for days made his skin crawl.

It must have been the fourth or fifth night when Damien gave up. He looked around the tent but any tools that they would have used for the tomb excavation had been stored outside. The day the photograph was taken, all tools were being used. So nothing useful like a crowbar or a spade was in the tent. The nearest thing to hand was a large penknife which Damien kept on his desk. The object having been the only thing there the day the photo was taken. He mentally sighed in irritation as the screams continued.

"Hey! Hey!" He called over as he stepped out of the photo. "Be quiet for a minute please". He knocked his knuckles against the lid of the sarcophagus lazily. Light enough that he wouldn't damage the artefact, but still with enough force to get his point across. The screams and banging stopped. Damien sighed in relief and set to work on the case lid. There was a large lock in the steel. Damien tried to use his knife to pick it but he had never had to pick a lock before. It took five minutes of careful struggling before there was a crack and the tip of his knife broke off. Damien cursed loudly and sat on the floor in frustration.

Tap, tap, tap. His head rose as he listened. There it was again. Three slow knocks. A question from the sarcophagus.

Damien rose onto his knees and peered at the coffin. "Can you hear me?" He called nervously. There was an answering tap.

"Fuck you're actually cognitive in there", Damien muttered, running his hands through his hair. "This is crazy. All these years and you can actually come alive? The questions we would have asked when we found you. I spent six years in that desert". His brain felt like it was whirring at twice its normal speed in a effort to keep up with this new world. Feelings of the joy of discovery, and anxious confusion left him feeling giddy. There was two hard taps. Damien got the sense that they were sarcastic.

"Shut up", he scowled. "I only came back to life a few days ago. This is very new to me. So don't judge". He pointed at the golden face of the sarcophagus angrily.

Tap tap. There was a muffled noise. Damien guessed that the Pharaoh was speaking.

"I'm afraid I can't hear you sir", Damien drawled. If this was another situation, he might show a little bit more respect. But he was already dead. There was not much the pharaoh could do to him stuck in his sarcophagus. "Maybe it's the bandages. I've seen your corpse. Crusty and heavily wrapped. Not a pretty picture".

Muffed noise and grunts. A angry thud. Maybe a fist hitting the wood.

Damien rolled his eyes. "Maybe I'll just do the talking. Tap once for yes, twice for no. Can you manage that?"

One tap.

Damien smiled in excitement. "Good. Now from what I've gathered is that we're in a museum in America. Something has brought us back to life. Do you know what it is?"

One tap. Damien waited for a second but nothing came. He smiled wider.

"If you know what it is, then it must be part of your exhibit. I'm the only new addition so it's not me. You've been on display since 1932 at Cambridge university". He had been part of the team setting it up. There on the first opening night to the public. Happy memories. "Then your information plaque says you were moved to New York. So it must be something to do with you".

One tap for yes. Damien was practically bouncing in eagerness. He scooted as close to the sarcophagus as he possibly could as he looked around. Eyes darting between each artefact on display. As he spotted each one, he mentally scrolled through his own information about them. It wasn't until he looked over at the tablet hanging on the wall across the room that he calmed down. The tablet had been a treasure specially created for Ahkmanrah. It was rumoured to be magic and mystical.

"Is it your tablet causing this?" Damien asked, despite already guessing the answer.

One tap.

Damien looked at the glowing gold with a sigh. "Has it brought you back every night since you died?" Damien didn't know if he wanted to know the answer to that one.

Two taps. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Since you were found?"

One tap. He winced, wondering if the pharaoh was angry at his death being disturbed.

"Do you know who found you?"

One tap. Damien tensed up.

"Are you angry at your rest being disturbed?"

Two taps. Then a slight hesitance and a third tap. Damien looked at the sarcophagus in confusion. What did that mean?

"I'm sorry", he apologised. "That doesn't make sense".

A loud thud made Damien jump. Ahkmanrah seemed to have kicked the coffin in frustration.

"I can leave"-

Two rapid taps.

Okay, so Damien wasn't leaving. He leant back against the glass case in thought. "Were you able to wander around Cambridge during your time there?" The curiosity was eating at him.

One tap.

"Sorry you're stuck now", he grimaced. "Is that were you learnt english?"

Tap.

"You taught yourself? Amazing. All the research and sources pointed to you being a clever and good king", he rambled. "The amount of times I spent reading about you. God, the questions I would ask if you could respond properly", he groaned. Here he had a second chance at life with the physical person of his whole life's work and the guy was trapped. What cruel fate.

Ahkmanrah responded with a series of taps forming a small beat. The beat broke off half way through, leaving a open end. Despite himself, Damien laughed. He was impressed by how verbal the pharaoh seemed to be despite not using words. "Was that supposed to be a question?"

One tap.

"Okay. Is the question about me or about the museum? Tap once for the first, twice for the second".

Tap.

"A question about me", Damien mused, thinking out loud. "Is it my name? I know you. But you don't know me".

One tap.

"Me? I'm the lucky bastard who fell into your tomb back in 1930. Just having a stroll through the valley of kings and the ground crumbles beneath me. I fell right into the antechamber of your tomb". Damien laughed at the silence from the sarcophagus.

"I am Damien Jean. Nice to meet you Ahkmanrah".


Unedited

Night life || AhkmenrahOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora