The lights flicker in the dead of night casting shadows against the golden walls. Two figures fight on the walls with their hair fanning around them at every turn. One is tall and slender: her moves sure as she swiftly bends away from a dagger's strike or lunges with her own. The smaller shadow meets each exchange edging away from its sharp pierce. She never lunges but defends matching each lunge with barely seconds to spare.
There is no competition.
The taller figure hits her wrist with a flat hand.
The dagger thuds to the ground.
In the middle of the room, Meritamen stays in place. A bronze dagger scarcely a shade darker than her skin presses against her throat. Meritamen looks down briefly; she stops as the cold metal digs slightly in. A smile slowly grows across her face. Dark eyes dart to the soft of Meritamen's neck, the red lips parted in a smile, and her heaving chest.
Ahmanet drops the dagger roughly pulling Meritamen into a kiss.
Her hands dig into Meritamen's hair not pulling but holding. While one hand loses itself in Meritamen's hair, the other grabs wildly: the thin material of her dress, the hot of her skin, and the addictive moans that vibrate Meritamen's throat. Ahmanet can't stay still, can't let go of her Meritamen, and Meritamen hugs her just as close.
With a wistful sigh, Meritamen draws back, lips red as wine and struggling for breath.
Ahmanet turns her attention to the bronze of her neck. She nips at the pulse that jumps for her attention. She sucks at the salt of her skin. Meritamen eyes flutter closed at the attention. She turns her head exposing more skin. Meritamen grins softly as she feels Ahmanet's lips spread. The soft lips drag against her skin so sweetly.
Meritamen allows the action keeping a hand on the nape of Ahmanet's neck.
Her eyes stay closed when Meritamen speaks.
"Perhaps he will have another daughter."
Sharply, Ahmanet withdraws.
The movement is oddly fluid even as she tenses. Brown eyes, nearly black, never move away from Meritamen's form. Her cheekbones stand out in stark relief from the sneer that cages them. Ahmanet doesn't blink and barely appears to breathe. She glowers: a burning look promising death and destruction to all in her way.
Her Meritamen could never feel the flames.
Meritamen opens her eyes smiling brightly. She ignores Ahmanet's scowl instead softly touching her cheeks. Immediately, Ahmanet's sneer fades. Her jaw unclenches lips settling into a small pout. Meritamen rubs the soft skin of her cheek with her thumb, and she can't help leaning into the comfort of Meritamen's touch. Slowly the black in Ahmanet's fiery brown eyes fades like a fire drawn back to its hearth.
"You are Pharaoh," Meritamen promises. Her hands still hold Ahmanet's cheeks. Yet as she kisses the corner of Ahmanet's mouth, Ahmanet pushes herself closer.
"I will enjoy raising her with us," Meritamen continues. She moves a hand to press a second, deeper kiss, to Ahmanet's skin. "It'll be like raising another you. The Pharaoh is old and never sired sons before. Think of this as an opportunity. When he falls, your sister will be your heir...our heir," Meritamen's smile crinkles her eyes until they almost disappear. "No male needed."
Ahmanet closes her eyes for a moment.
She opens them: the warrior is gone, princess hid, but Ahmanet's softness.
"I am so tired of waiting," she whispers. She leans close to Meritamen past her eyes to nip her earlobe. "I want Egypt," her voice deepens." I want you." Ahmanet nuzzles into Meritamen's neck. "I want my queen," Ahmanet rasps. She mouths her neck...her clavicle. Meritamen exhales shakily pulling Ahmanet closer as the shoulders of her dress fall to the floor.
Lelah comes to slowly: eyes fluttering open.
She opens her eyes to a new world of metal. Blurry eyed, Lelah blinks once, twice and again waiting for the slate grey walls to go back to gold. They don't. Instead the van's metal walls rattle through her ears, and her body trembles as the vehicle races on the road. Even as Lelah's body shakes, she never falls off her prison. Thick black material wraps tightly around Lelah's frame securing her to the metal pallet built in the van.
Lelah tries and fails to calm down.
'Is this how Ahmanet felt stuck in that sarcophagus?' the thought crosses Lelah's mind, unbidden.
'Worse,' a voice similar to her own answers. Lelah shuts her eyes to think. There Lelah sees...Lelah. She is lighter: more olive than tan with a body thinner from a world of no labor. Two thick straps curved over her shoulders exposing her décolletage as the thin material dropped to her ankles. Wine red lips watched Lelah warmly as her blood-red fingertips caressed Lelah's face.
Meritamen smiles at her reincarnation.
"We could not save her in the last life," she says staring earnestly into new copper brown eyes. "Save her in this one."
She leans into Lelah pressing soft lips against her cheek before disappearing as Lelah's eyes open.
Chris Vail's glossy white eye stares back at her.
Lelah chokes on her own scream.
His skin is fading rotting darker shades of grey and black. In some places, his face is already peeling revealing the muscle underneath. A single dark brown eye watches Lelah almost sadly as she gags.
"I'm aging like milk. I get it," Vail says quickly stepping away from her frame. "Some of us aren't so lucky when we get brought back. Some of us aren't dead but aren't alive. This is what happens."
He gestures to his decaying body.
Lelah stops herself from doing just that.
She stares at the floor instead.
"Do us both a favor. Stop running. Would it be so bad to live for eternity with your soulmate? To be the queen of the planet? To fulfill your last life's dying wish?"
The grey light from the window disappears. Her world blackens. She can't see him at all but still feels both of his eyes focus on her. Lelah shivers.
"Time's up."
He leaves as a wisp of smoke as the van doors open.
Four men covered neck to toe in black rush into the van. They storm in; their stomps echo on metal with clangs ringing through Lelah's ears. The men swarm around her with a man at each corner of her prison. They move as a single unit. One moment, each stand silently watching her. In the next moment, a mass of arms push and pull at her body.
The restraints give in seconds clanging to the ground.
She wastes no time.
Lelah kicks wildly: the navy of her jeans black in the dark of the van. Her long legs are near invisible in the air missing men by centimeters. Where her legs fail, Lelah's arms do not. She grabs one smashing his face into the hard metal slab and pushing another just as quickly into the cage behind her. Lelah slams it shut. Another pair of hands grabs her waist tightly and lifts.
For a moment, Lelah just dangles in the air like a kitten in its mother's grasp.
Then, Lelah loses it.
She swings her head, frenzied, and it smashes into his nose.
Once.
Twice.
Then something cracks.
The man behind her screams dropping her instinctively to grab his bleeding nose.
Lelah's body thuds when it hits the ground. Her head bounces on the ground once...twice.
She lays there stunned.
Limp, Lelah is pulled over a Goliath's shoulder. She hangs like a child's rag doll: denim a stark contrast to the black armor. The men pull a black bag over her face and start to move.
They march in unison. Single file, one man guards the front and two at the back. The two others drag Nick out in a hold with a matching black cloth over his face. Like a funeral procession, they carry Lelah and Meritamen to their final resting place.
Dazed, Lelah's body bounces with Goliath's every step. She can't think; Her head aches beating in time with her heart. Lelah's whole body hurts. Lelah can't explain it, but in some places it feels like she was shot... Like something ripped right through her. Adrenaline gone, Lelah feels it all and moans.
Unbidden, a dangerous purr echoes through her ears low and deadly.
Lelah's eyes open.
Lightning swift, she raises her arm. Goliath doesn't notice; he steadily marches in sync with his peers. She flexes her arm aiming it at the back of his skull.
He falls.
Hard.
Midfall, Lelah reaches out. One of the men takes her by the wrists like a makeshift chain. She wiggles her fingers before digging them into his eyelids: deep but without fingernails. He screams, and the other guard drops Nick. He pulls Lelah off tugging harshly at her middle until his comrade's head finally drops. Nick sucker punches the guard shaking his hand as the body falls to the ground.
The room is a mess of groans and cries.
For a single moment, Nick and Lelah stare at one another. His forehead is bruising an ugly violet with a break in the skin scabbed mid-ooze. His lip is split, yet Nick's eyes check Lelah for wounds. Her body is bloody and bruised. Various parts of her skin are darkening a sickening purple from the restraints. A couple parts of her shirt are bloody: random bleeding points though she can't remember being shot.
They nod to another and run.
Within the hour, guards carry their bodies.
She's surrounded. Two guards hold her this time; each man holds an arm. Easily, she hovers a couple feet above the ground. Her legs kick the air wildly: too short to touch the ground. Lelah can't even see Nick at this point. The men all walk in a state of disarray. Some have black eyes, some bleeding, but all of them have ripped suits.
Eventually, the brigade stops.
They enter a study or office of sorts. Bookcases filled to the brim align almost every wall in reds and browns. There is a dark almost black desk waiting at the other end of the room. It's spacious with thick beige columns and floor to roof length windows with reinforced glass. There is only one obvious way in or out.
She is sufficiently trapped.
The men lower Lelah and Nick to the ground limping and locking the door with a final click.
A middle-aged man waits in the center of the room holding two folders. His arms are in front of himself tightly entwined. He's dressed in a black business suit that's almost blue under the lights. He readjusts his gold-framed glasses before speaking.
"I'm sorry you received such a welcome. We weren't expecting such a violent greeting."
You kidnap someone and expect gratitude?
"Perhaps you should send an invitation next time," Lelah replies blandly before settling in a small chair nearby. She grabs a bottle of chilled wine off the table beside her. Lelah holds the bottle to her aching head unamused.
"Who are you?"
The man turns to Nick. He jumps between the two biting his cheek.
"I'm a doctor," he continues despite Nick's snort. "Chemical pathology, neurosurgery. Fellow of the Royal Society."
The doctor stops for a breath.
"I'm also a lawyer."
Lelah snickers but when he turns to her, her face smooths.
"My name is Jekyll. Dr. Henry Jekyll."
Henry glances at Lelah pointedly.
"Make yourself comfortable."
Hard to do that when my head has a heartbeat.
Henry walks over to Lelah's seat. He kneels to look her in the eyes. Fingernails digging into the soft cloth, her face has no reaction to his proximity. Instead, she holds the bottle ever tighter.
Henry gives her a brief smile.
"In theory, I know all about you."
Lelah stares blankly at him.
"Lelah Fidelis Rene." At that, Nick snickers but quickly hushes when she turns her head in his direction. "American. Egyptologist, archeologist. Jennifer raved about your study on the linguistics of Ancient Egypt for your Master's qualification."
Lelah's mouth twitches.
"I found your thesis on same-sex relationships in Ancient Egypt very enlightening."
He tilts his head raising an eyebrow still grinning.
Henry stops when Lelah doesn't react turning to Nick instead.
"And you," he continues less than enthused. "Army reconnaissance, a decorated soldier," Nick drops the files on his desk. "and page after page indicating a deep and troubling moral turpitude."
He looks between the two quickly.
"But, you see, this file contains nothing of any real value to me."
Henry walks back to Lelah's seat.
"Miss Rene," he says offering an arm to Lelah. She takes it warily eyeing it in distrust. "Mr. Morton," he nods at Nick to follow.
***
As they get closer, Lelah's body tenses further. She ignores the thuds of their footsteps and Henry's grip on her arm. Lelah can only focus on pain. Its dull pangs trudge through her body: unfamiliar. Lelah's stomach curdles as stifled groans start to echo though her ears. They're high-pitched: almost palpable in its agony.
Lelah and the others enter quietly. The room is near empty; computers to the right and multiple stairways that lead to other levels. The entire room is metal and concrete with harsh greys and black. In the center of it all is Ahmanet. The heir is forced to her knees; her arms are held together tightly behind her back and raised by a chain. The chains link to a collar around her throat, night against the dust of her skin, and silver tubes connect to the collar. The inky ponytail graces the floor as Ahmanet's body shivers holding in her cries.
Her head suddenly lifts; the amber eyes glow.
Her hitched breaths cease as she takes in Lelah. She takes in the blooming bruises in thick symmetrical lines along her arms. Lelah's forehead is a mottled mess of reds and blacks: an adept cloud of fire. The once light denim jacket is stained with blood, her blood, and a rusty maroon.. One..two..three holes at least are rusty with slight trails of blood as if someone shot Lelah through and through.
A harsh growl echoed through the room: low and deadly.
They don't say a word.
They don't have to.
The two cannot look away from each other.
Lelah runs from Henry's side tearing her arm out of his grasp. She goes to Ahmanet automatically sinking to her knees. Her eyes frantically dart along Ahmanet's body.. 'There's no blood,' Lelah reminds herself examining the ancient cloth. 'There's holes but no wounds...nothing.' A low moan escapes Ahmanet's lips as she leans toward Lelah. Her eyes are a odd combination: furious and full of unspoken fear. Her eyes never stray from the holes on the bloody jacket as if she could burn the fabric through her stare alone. Lelah tilts her head, hair swinging with the movement, before unbuttoning the ruined fabric. The jacket takes forever to drop.
The room quiets.
There on the dingy fabric is her clotted blood but no wounds. There are circular rips in the undershirt as if something with barbs tore through skin and muscle before ripping out her back. There are thin trails almost purple now in color. Through the holes, all anyone can see is smooth tan skin.
Ahmanet's head drops as she nuzzles into Lelah ignoring the witnesses behind them. Her whole body shivers harshly before abruptly stilling. Lelah's body trembles, yet she doesn't move away. One hand caresses Ahmanet's hair removing old bandages and webs while the other creates designs along Ahmanet's back. Ahmanet relaxes in the show of comfort, but her eyes... They stare behind Lelah's shoulder smoldering with a dark promise.
You will pay for this.
A large hand digs into Lelah's shoulder almost dragging her away. Chains rattling,Ahmanet follows the movement but until she's forced back. She seethes as Henry gently forces Lelah to her feet, and Nick stands there waiting with a protective grip around her waist. Ahmanet growls low, but it ends in a keen as the mercury travels deeper.Lelah turns to run to her, but Nick only holds Lelah tighter. Henry quirks his head at their reaction before he steps firmly in front of Ahmanet blocking Lelah's view.
There Henry stands tall in his three-piece suit with a grave look in his cold eyes.
"Welcome to Prodigium."
"From the Latin monstrum vel prodigium," he pauses sweeping the room with a cursory glance. His blue eyes linger on Lelah's. " A Warning to Monsters."
Over Henry's shoulders, Nick flinches at Ahmanet's tortured form. She does not scream...refuses to beg. Instead, her lithe frame convulses with her silent shrieks. Her muscles tremble in the metal's grip. Ahmanet's eyes never leave Lelah despite the piercing pain within them.
"What are you doing to her?"
Nick ambles past Ahmanet opening her to Lelah's sight.
"We're embalming her with mercury. At minus thirty-eight degrees, the mercury in her veins will solidify. She will be safe for dissection then."
The three are silent in their horror.
"I apologize for our lack of decorum," Henry rambles on. "We had very little time to prepare for our guest and only the information Jenny could provide for us."
He moves behind Jenny tucking her hair in an almost paternal gesture.
"In truth, she works for us. It's not an exact science, this business."
Nick bites his cheek crossing his arms.
"Business?"
Henry doesn't react yet clarifies.
"Evil."
Jenny turns to Henry. Her body is relaxed, but her lip trembles in an almost plea. Her blue eyes stay glued on his: wide and beseeching. Her brow wrinkles deeply at his plan of action.
"Henry, this isn't the way I wanted us to study her. She is witness to a world we barely even know. To do that is not a dissection. Ahmanet is alive; that is vivisection."
Henry's tone gentles seeing Jenny in such duress.
"It's for the greater good, Jenny. I am sorry. She is the most ancient evil we have and will ever witness. We cannot allow her or her God to destroy this world."
This hypocritical piece of shit.
Lelah's body stiffens in Nick's grasp.
"Cut the bulshit," Lela interrupts. "Can we not ignore how unethical this really is?"
Henry turns dramatically face tensing in righteous wonder and anger.
"You believe evil should destroy this world?"
Lelah straightens, back rod straight. In an instant, the air becomes heavy...static. Something powerful races through her veins...familiar yet not. Her lips curl, copper colored eyes wild, and in that instant she is no longer an archaeologist. She is a queen.
"I believe in the Geneva Conventions," she says seething. "You remember that, don't you? Or, do you only remember the laws that benefit you? You can't preach to me about monsters when I'm staring at one down right now. Dissection? DISSECTION?!"
Lelah turns to Jenny. Her countenance remains unchanged, but there's a seething betrayal that lights Jenny on fire from the inside out. The blonde avoids Lelah's eyes staring at the cold concrete instead. It doesn't save her.
"I can't believe you," Lelah almost spits. "You used my work to do this?"
Henry walks into Lelah's space. His face is smooth and almost plastically calm. He takes her by the shoulders in an attempt to force them into eye to eye contact. She doesn't budge forcing him to crouch to meet her eyes. There's an odd pain in his face from the movement, but Lelah remains unmoved.
His voice is gentle almost paternal in his attempt to guide Lelah.
"Come with us. Allow me to explain."
Lelah looks back at him.
"People in hell want ice water. Do you see me getting them something to drink?"
She storms past him returning to Ahmanet's side.
"
Furious, he clears the floor stomping back to his own office.
Lelah hears everyone get back to work and silently waits under Ahmanet's eyes.
When she hears Nick and Jenny leave, she makes her move.
Lelah crouches moving closer to Ahmanet's body until her face is hidden from the camera. Her thick curly hair falls into her face hiding both Ahmanet and Lelah from view. Their foreheads touch, waves and tendrils meeting again after centuries apart, and Lelah closes her eyes in remembrance. Ahmanet feels different, frozen, but somehow the fire inside is the same. The two stay there eye closed.
"I hate seeing you in pain," Ahmanet whispers to her chosen. "They will pay for this, I promise you."
"Ahmanet, I promise you he will pay for this," Lelah turns allowing their noses to touch. They both open their eyes: one sincere and the other troubled. "I won't let you stay in here. I promise."