Multifandom Oneshot Book

Scene - Entombed - Spooptober Day 6

It'd just been a harmless prank, harmless... he hadn't meant anything by it. Benji was just being restless, he'd just sent him out to play with her. He hadn't known she was making a hot drink.

He hadn't meant to fight with her.

He felt awful, guilt weighing down on his soul as he went to bed, Benji in his little basket under the desk, drifting into an uneasy sleep.

He awoke suddenly, the surface he lay on was different, harder, colder. It was pitch black around him, not even the slightest hint of light visible. His chest felt heavy, his first thought was that Benji had had a nightmare of sorts and had come over for comfort, but as he tried to move his arms to check, he realised that he couldn't move them, that he'd been bound. "Maha!" He called, the words scratching his throat, "Maha this isn't funny."

There was no response, his words just fell flat in what seemed to be a very, very small room. The confinement didn't bother him, what bothered him was that his sister wasn't responding.

"If this is about Benji I'm sorry okay. I didn't know you were making a drink, I had no way of knowing."

Silence.

He struggled against his bindings, eventually able to wriggle his arms free, as he tore the bindings from the rest of his body, he felt the soft, thin fabric of bandages. "Oh ha ha, very funny Maha, wrapping me up like a mummy because we're Egyptian. You've made your point, I wronged you, I did something stupid that resulted in you getting hurt. I already promised I'd pay the hospital bill how else can I make it up to you?"

More silence. All he heard was the silence of a tomb.

He felt around himself to try and gauge how small this room was exactly, his hands hitting walls only about an inch away on each side. The walls even seemed to contour to fit his shape. He pushed upwards, hands meeting the ceiling and pushing it up and off. After the pitch blackness of his confines, Pharaoh was dazzled by the light of the torches that lit the room. 

After he grew accustomed to the light, his eyes could make out shimmering gold all around him, gold and jewels and other precious materials. The artwork on the walls depicted male and female figures with the heads of animals; Gods. He was in an actual tomb. He looked in alarm at what he'd been contained in and, sure enough, it was a sarcophagus. Why did that chill him so much? He clambered out and inspected the room, as expected; sealed. There was a shaft in the ceiling above the sarcophagus but he knew he'd never be able to even reach it, let alone climb out through it. So instead he grabbed a gilded axe from one of the urns in the room and went to the slab that sealed the exit to the room, beginning to hack at the seal, trying to get it to fall down.

It took what felt like hours, but finally, the slab fell. His arms aching, Pharaoh returned to the urns and took out a sabre and attached it to his belt, taking a torch and the bandages from in the sarcophagus to act as more fuel for the torch to burn and a spear for disarming the many traps he knew would be in his way on the way out.

He almost died multiple times; snake-filled pits, spears thrusting out of the walls, pits with spikes at the bottoms. The silence was what bothered him the most. That and how he'd even gotten here, where Maha was, if she was okay. Those questions gnawed at his soul as he went, distracting him and almost killing him. He didn't know what he'd do if she was hurt, despite their squabble, he loved her. She was his sister for goodness sakes.

Then he saw the exit, a light before him in the distance. He threw the spear aside and ran, ran as fast as he could towards the light. But it didn't take more than a few steps before the ground fell away beneath him and he felt himself plunging down. His hands shot up and he managed to grab the ledge but he had no idea how he was going to pull himself up. His legs scrabbled frantically against the wall of the pit, desperately trying to find purchase, and his arms strained to heave him up. He wasn't used to this, it hurt. His arms still ached from escaping the room he'd awoken in, and he was terrified he'd fall. But he managed it, he didn't know how, but he managed to get his arms up onto the floor of the passage and heave himself out. 

He lay there, panting, for a short while. Where the heck was he? He still didn't know. How'd he ended up in an Egyptian tomb? Was this even real?

As he got to his feet again, the pain in his arms reminded him he wasn't dreaming as muttered curses fell from his lips. He took the sabre out and cautiously proceeded along the hall to what he assumed was freedom. 

But when he left, he dearly wished he was back in the tomb.

The door to the tomb fell shut behing him with a colossal bang, causing him to spin around. He'd been in a pyramid, of course he had been. Why did whatever force had trapped him here have to use stereotypes to try and kill him? Far from frightening, it was annoying, but that thought was barely in his mind for an instant before a new one intruded.

Before his surroundings registered.

A desert. A vast expance of sand, stretching to infinity in all directions. 

"Maha? Benji?" Then the panic began to set in, then his heart began to race.

Alone.

He was... alone.