Touch of Fear ▸ House of Anubis [2]

chapter seven. house of myths

☾ ☽

( note: everything in italics that is not emphasizing something is anubis! )

Good morning!

I startle awake, only realizing I was hanging halfway off the bed when I fall off onto the floor. I push myself up from the floor, glancing at Nina's alarm clock; it's four in the morning. Suddenly remembering the brand new tattoo I did not agree to get, I check my arm to see if it's still there. It is. This isn't a dream. None of it is a dream.

Wait a second, there's an ancient Egyptian god in my head?!

That'd be correct. Ra's about to raise the sun.

I glance at the ceiling, replying quietly and feeling like I've gone insane, "It's 4AM. The sun won't come up until six."

Well, it's 4AM where you are. Not in Cairo, where it is six o'clock in the morning.

This is...the worst thing to have happened to me this year so far. And term's only just started, and something tells me things are only just going to get worse. I roll my eyes, getting up from the ground. Amber mumbles something in her sleep about Taylor Launter and marriage, and honestly, I would take that over this.

Well, something tells me I won't ever be asleep long enough to wake up to Nina's alarm. I'm awake now, might as well do something with that time. Homework seems like a good idea. I grab my school bag and quietly leave the room.

—

Shall I tell you a story?

"Oh, please, God, no," I mutter as the voice in my head ignores me anyway and starts talking. I'm currently in the kitchen, leaning on the counter with the homework I didn't finish last night in front of me. So not only am I not getting any work done, I'm also being subjected to one of the most unbelievable stories I have ever heard in my life.

...Osiris told me, Anubis is telling me a few minutes later, that I'm despicable, et cetera, et cetera, you know how it goes. You know, I really don't. So I said, and this did get me a smack on the head, 'Well, I do happen to be god of funerary rites and such so who has the upper hand here?' And Osiris is sometimes my father actually (do not ask), so you can imagine how that turned out. But I think you would like Osiris. He balanced me.

Balanced...why does that sound so familiar?

"Ashley?"

I've never been more thankful to hear Jerome Clarke's voice. I turn to the door to see him standing there with raised eyebrows. "Jerome Clarke, I love you," I state, exhaling deeply. "Distract me immediately. I have a killer headache and I don't think it's going away anytime soon. Help me."