Flirting with Death: Anubis appears [Rewriteing]

Chapter 1: Butter Fingers

The light filters through the windows of the room, and come to rest on a humanoid sleeping form.

The walls of the room, white as they are, lie bare, uninspired. The floor is covered in a surprisingly plush carpet, of a cool slate grey hue. The doors to the closet are as uninspired as the walls; however, a black suit, black tie, and black dress shirthand from it. The simple bedframe and plain blanket are similar shades of black. The mattress was soft and covered in a white sheet. The pillow was black as well. Against the wall opposite of the bed was a desk, resting on it is a few pins and a rather expensive looking watch with egyptian hieroglyphs instead of the numbers.

One of the shafts of light rises to meet the closed eye of the man who's been resting fitfully. His groans sound at the disturbance.

His lengthy hair falls stiffly into his face as he rises from his bed like a corpse from a crypt. He barely placed a toe on the floor when his doorbell rang out. Sighing, he slips on some shorts and a shirt shortly before opening the door.

A woman was at the door in a beige uniform topped by a baseball cap on top of the head. Her hat, adorned with an odd looking ankh logo, covered her eyes in a shroud of dark. "I've a parcel for a mister Y/N." Said the woman with an accent like none that's been heard properly for ages.

Y/N's pov
"Yeah, that's me." I say groggilly. The woman was mysterious, and didn't have me sign a thing.

"Here you are, sorry for your loss, sir." She says putting the box in my hands as she says this quickly hurrying off.

"Wait!" I say hurrying to catch up. Only to turn the corner she disappeared behind, only to find that she vanished. "How'd you know?" I asked to the air. Sighing, I head back inside.

I set the box on the counter and check it's side label. "To Y/N a grandson one could only dream of, love grandpa Ben." A tear fell as I finish reading. The label also said that it came from Egypt. The return address had the same weird ankh logo inplace of an actual address.

I decide to open it when I get home from the funeral. When I enter my room my phone rings out from the nightstand. Picking it up, I answer, not even bothering to check the caller ID. "Yellow?" I say when the call connects.

"Ah so you can wake up on time? Interesting." Mocked my mother, cold as always. "Do you have the suit i sent you still?"

Looking at my suit hand from my closet, I say, "Yeah, I'm not stupid"

"That remains to be seen." Was all she said before hanging up not giving me the chance to respond.

"Love to you too." I say icily at the dead connection. Tossing my phone on my bed, praying it doesn't bounce off, I prepare for the day. I take the pins and adorn my lapel with em. The watch was a gift from my grandpa for my 18th birthday. I open a drawer to grab my cufflinks that grandpa had worn to his wedding. He gave them to me with the watch; said that, with his dashing days behind him, he wouldn't be needing em.

I use some cologne and grab the essentials before leaving.

And you don't want to hear what happened at the funeral. Let's just say, when family hates you, it's hard to grieve the only one that liked you. I had stayed a little while after, but that's between me and grandpa, god rest his soul.

When I arrive back, I groan and slide down the front door as I decompress a bit from the stressful day. Then the box draws my attention. It is sitting on the corner of my kitchen island where I had set it this morning. Loosening my tie and undoing the top button of my dress shirt, I get up and head to the box.

Opening the cardboard package, I discover a beautiful and peculiar, black ceramic jar. The lid was shaped like a jackals head, tropical blue jewels set in the eye sockets. The jar had some damage, but was in good condition. The lid was sealed with a thick, dark paste stuff that's long since dried.