[DISCONTINUED UFN] BENEATH SANDS OF BLOOD ⟶ THE MUMMY 1999/2017

-𝐢𝐯 ⟶ 𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐭

⊱▬▬▬║≬≬≬║▬▬▬⊰

"Tell me, child, what is it you seek? You have power. . . the Queen of all Egypt. . . you have wealth. . . beauty. . . surely, you cannot be seeking a trivial thing with me, then."

⊱▬▬▬║≬≬≬║▬▬▬⊰

THE ROYAL PALACE, 1287 B.C.E.

THE SCREAMING SURROUNDED HER.

It hadn't started out this way. The monarch's ears were filled with wavering, pained screams. Screams of the dead. Screams of the condemned. Was this what greeted her beloved when she entered into the afterlife? If she had even been able to? No. No! Oh gods, it had been so peaceful. A simple sail on the glittering crystal waters of the Nile, breeze soothing her skin heated by the kiss of an unforgiving sun, rhythmic sounds of rowing floating off to the shores. Her eyes had been closed, enjoying this day she had taken from her royal duties under the excuse of wishing to see her people.

Golden sunlight kissed the inner wrist of her arm where she had laid it out, most of her body soaking in the shade before she felt the heat start to burn the small part that wasn't. She tugged her hand back in, folding in the sheer skirts covering her bronze-tinted legs. It was an exceptionally hot day, one of those common ones where she was too overheated to even begin considering trying to make difficult decisions. Besides, she had given birth so recently. . .

The first scream's appearance brought the queen's head up in a flash. Where had it come from? Eyelids dusted with vibrant blue snapped open, amber hues trying to locate the source of such a disturbing sound without luck. Had it been her imagination? No. A quick glance to the chief rower indicated he had heard it too.

After a long moment, her eyes drifted closed again.

Another scream.

And then she was falling, her own scream mingling with that of the souls around her. Souls, wailing for release from the jaws of the monsters snarling beside her. Screaming. So much screaming. And wailing. Wailing to be free. Begging for paradise, or even just a simple way to run from the horrors that they were enduring.

"You called for me, my child."

Ahmanet's startled gasp dropped from her lips. Sounds of the creak of strained chains made her turn, white swirling around her. No. Not white. Red. Everything had been stained with a scarlet tint, even her white dress, and that was a bad sign - for anyone else. Red was the color of death, of chaos, of the unforgivingly harsh sands that even the most experienced traveler could be killed by if he wasn't careful. Oh, but for her, she had sought this out for so long.