What if... Walt made a differ...

By 6666anonymous

6.5K 72 26

A twist to the original story. Sanubis inside. DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters in the story More

My talk with Walt
Scratch that, Anubis does the talking
How dare he?!
Fight even more
I talk to the dead
Carter behaves like a coward
We get a little happy ending (for now)

We fight, fight, fight

821 6 0
By 6666anonymous

I had never been so happy to see someone so ugly. 

Bes, in all his horrible warty glory, climbed onto the roof of his car. He turned to face the bat demons. His eyes bulged. His mouth opened impossibly wide. His hair stood out like porcupine quills, and he yelled, "BOO!" 

The winged demons screamed and disintegrated.

 "Bes!" Sadie ran toward him. 

The dwarf god broke into a grin. He slid down to the hood, so he was almost Sadie's height when she hugged him. 

"There's my girl!" he said. "And, Carter, get your sorry hide over here!" 

He hugged me, too. I didn't even mind him rubbing his knuckles on my head.

 "And, Zia Rashid!" Bes cried generously. "I got a hug for you too—" 

"I'm good," Zia said, stepping back. "Thanks." 

Bes bellowed with laughter. "You're right. Time for warm and fuzzy later.  Gotta get you guys out of here!"

 "The—the shadow spell?" Sadie stammered. "It actually worked?"

 "Of course it worked, you crazy kid!" Bes thumped his hairy chest, and suddenly he was wearing a chauffeur's uniform. "Now, get in the car!" 

Yes, after Bast, I love Bes.


Slowly but surely, we waded toward the doors, where the main wedge of enemies seemed to be focused on a single attacker. 

When I realized who it was, I was tempted to turn myself into a hamster and scamper away, squeaking. 

Anubis was the eye of the storm. He ripped through the enemy line with his bare hands—throwing one rebel magician down the hallway with inhuman strength, touching another and instantly encasing the man in mummy linen. He grabbed the staff of a third rebel, and it crumbled to dust. Finally, he swept his hand toward the remaining enemies, and they shrank to the size of dolls. Canopic jars—the sort used to bury a mummy's internal organs—sprang up around each of the tiny magicians, sealing them in with lids shaped like animal heads. The poor magicians yelled desperately, banging on the clay containers and wobbling about like a line of very unhappy bowling pins. 

He turned to our friends. "Is everyone all right?" 

"Brace yourselves," Anubis gritted his teeth, and in one swift motion, sent a killing spell from one of the magicians careening into the shabti, sending it into a spectacular explosion of white wax.

 "They've sealed the doors, but I can—" 

Then he noticed me, and his voice faltered. 

"Sadie," he said. "I—" 

"Something about opening the doors?" I demanded. 

He nodded mutely. 

"Amos is in there?" I asked. "Fighting Kwai and Jacobi and who knows what else?"

 He nodded again.

 "Then stop staring at me and open the doors!" 

"Kick-ass." Anubis smiled. I allowed myself for a smile too.

 He put his hand on the doors. Gray ash spread across the surface. The bronze crumbled to dust.

 "After you," he told me, and we charged into the Hall of Ages.


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