CreepyPasta

The Pyramid: They Die Nameless

My name is Ad m Ja es...

My name is Ada J m s...

My name is dam ame...

I've been writing these words over and over for the past twelve hours, writing to remind myself. Yet, no matter how many times I try to write it, it never lasts through the final stroke of the pen. I suspect it won't be long before the memory fades as well. I just hope this journal finds its way into someone's hands; anyone's hands. Please. Whoever you are, please remember me.

- June 5th, 1964 -

Since before my university years, I have been fascinated by ancient Egypt. The cradle of civilization, where gods and empires rose from untamed sands; these stories of our beginnings lay buried in silent tombs for thousands of years. The Valley of the Kings held answers to many mysteries, and sometimes new mysteries for the finding. A wealth of revelations and surprises, and its allure drew me to the life of a historian many years ago. Above and beyond the profession, unveiling these wonders has been my greatest pleasure.

To that end, today is a momentous day for my career. Until today, my research has been limited to secondary sources. As one might imagine, gaining access to original texts and artifacts can be a challenge. Yet, I have the great fortune of receiving a rare donation concerning my most recent subject of intrigue, courtesy of a generous private collector. Unfortunately, for sake of privacy, he wishes to retain anonymity in all publications. Still, though I cannot credit him for his contribution, I am most grateful.

My current work involves the end of the 18th dynasty, family line of Akhenaten and his controversial rejection of the old pantheon. Their reign is generally accepted to have ended with the death of his son, Tutankhamun. However, the contents of the boy king's burial chamber would suggest otherwise, namely the two fetuses buried alongside him, each in its own sarcophagus. One died in what appeared to be its seventh month of prenatal development, the other in its fifth. Their identities and the causes of their miscarriage are as of yet unknown.

My anonymous benefactor will be supplying me with those very same sarcophagi. Per request, he has sent them to my office at the University of Southampton. Hopefully their examination will provide me with a valuable lead in answering these questions once and for all. The package will arrive by month's end, and I am eager to begin.

- June 29th, 1964 -

The package arrived this morning. Though, in a rather precarious state, I must say; left unattended at my office door rather than the security desk as requested. The package itself was less than sturdy, hardly adequate protection for such priceless treasures. I'll be sure to voice my concern to the delivery company in the near future.

The artifacts are no worse for the wear, however, and they are beautiful indeed. My benefactor kept them pristine, clearly not in a dusty storage facility as I might have imagined. Two tiny sarcophagi adorned in gold and black, each containing an even smaller sarchophagus like Russian nesting dolls, and their shriveled remains would have rested therein. I had expected them to be brittle, yet they weathered the ages with surprising integrity.

Unfortunately, the bodies themselves are unavailable to me. They are closely guarded at another facility granting strictly limited access, and rightly so. Regardless, the coffins alone are a promising starting point in my research all the same. I will begin my work at once.

- July 10th, 1964 -

The coffins have been in my possession for over a week now, and they provide more questions than answers. The photographs I had seen before their arrival showed no obvious signs of identity, so I suspected a more careful examination would be necessary. Yet, they've yielded nothing. No names, of course. No epithets, no prayers, no symbols of protection. Not even the smallest indication of ritualistic practice concerning such deaths.