The Forgotten God

Chapter 33

Atum sat back, slowly sipping the potent cocktail of hard liquors. The fluid burned boldly in his throat, taking the air before settling in his stomach.

"From what you describe, I doubt the humans did such damage. I have seen them make some mess when it comes to murder but to tear another to pieces, even a cadaver, would take more strength and brutality than they possess. Unless they are mad and frenzied."

"They were certainly not either of those," Shu stood rigidly near the window "and there was an aura in that room, of something unhuman. I fear that Am-Heh has awoken or encouraged something else also, much like when a mortal dabbles with the unknown and opens the gate to those who lurk near it. The damage was not his, it was too crude. Even before, he had a certain finesse in how he did things."

Shu fell silent, a lump rising to choke his throat as he recalled the descriptions from those who had seen the carnage that had been left in the furious wake.

"That is secondary, at least for now," Atum said firmly, swirling the remaining alcohol "the mortal he has is the key to this. He needs to infiltrate Am-Heh's trust again. Those on the ground need the guard the relics with their lives, there is one there that must be kept safe at all costs, for it will unlock powers that even I baulk from using." He got to his feet, no longer appearing the silver fox of an older man, the vehement power of a warrior exuding instead like a rich perfume. "They need to retrieve it, to get it to me. Meanwhile, I will work on finding the stone that completes the ritual. If Am-Heh refuses to back down from this folly, then it will be invoked."

The words fell as cold as the icy hail on earth, pointed, brittle and painful as they pierced the heart. Shu knew what it meant and it was a choice no creator ever wanted.

Atum saw Shu's forlorn expression and forced a weak smile. "If he has the sense I instilled in him, it will not be something I fall to. Trust me, Shu, it is a last resort. I cannot bind him in a statue like before, his fate is in his hands." His face became stony. "Now go. Aid them."

----

In the confines of the museum the air grew stagnant, as though the oxygen was being pulled away and replaced with tear gas.

Mr Montford gasped, feeling frantically for his pulse which, although far faster, beat steadily. It did little to relieved the panic as he felt clawed fingers tighten about his throat and his eyes bulged to behold the beast appearing before him.

Marie and Ash heaved nearby. The breath torn from them and replaced with burning heat, forbidding movement and enhancing the smell of rot that festered behind the door. As hard as they tried, they could not move forward, as if walking in a dream, wading through tar.

"Give me the amulet," Am-Heh's voice cut through the atmosphere like a blade "do it voluntarily and you'll stay alive for now, resist and I simply snap your neck."

"I-I can't." The reply was choked. "I-I can't!"

Am-Heh gazed at the terrified face and slowly a cruel smile perked his lips. The light faded from the room and the sound of snarling echoed from the dark corners.

"The hounds are hungry," he whispered amidst the growls "they have relied too long on rats or dead meat. And the dead, they have not eaten at all."

Outside the earth shifted and moans came from beneath the soil. Bony fingers clawed at rotting wood and compacted debris, desperate to feel the air on their faces again.

Even down below they could smell life, and their minds retained that memory, overtaken with the desire to feel warm blood coursing through them, in whatever way that was.