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xp_logsAs Satanna’s curse envelops the mansion, residents find themselves in various classic horror stories.
Marie-Ange, Angelo, and Jean end up exploring the tomb of Seti the First, where they run afoul of the tomb’s curse, and encounter the mummified remains of Gabriel and Jubilee.
The desert heat felt so abruptly harsh. Marie-Ange adjusted the scarf she'd wrapped around her face and neck to keep the sand and heat off, and wiped her face.
"I absolutely hate it here. I could be home, sipping a cool drink and having a pedicure." She drove her shovel into the sand for the uncountably-high-numberth time, and swore as it hit something hard. "No, instead I agree to go on an expedition to the desert, and I have sand in my brasserie and a sunburn."
She had worn all the right clothes for the desert, but it did not matter. She had red hair and fair skin and so she had a sunburn.
"Also I think I found something. Either a rock or another rock or perhaps another different rock."
"Or not a rock", Angelo said, leaning over her shoulder and peering into the hole. "It looks shinier than the last one."
Jean slipped on her glasses. "That is no rock," she said with a thoughtful British accent and a note of rising excitement. "It appears to be some sort of....scarab carving. Judging by the markings it may be from the dynasty of Seti the first."
She pulled down her glasses. "It was said that Seti the First was known to enact a curse against those who should ever disturb his tomb. We must be careful."
"Seti the first can think about what his tomb has done to my hair." Marie-Ange smacked her shovel against the scarab, and it rang in a way that something made of carved stone should not have. The rocks made a grinding noise as they split into a rough-cut staircase down under the sand.
"...Okay, that was way too easy for something that's supposed to be cursed and hidden." Angelo squinted into the darkness. "Kind of like it wants us to go down there."
"And set forth the events that would bring about our demise?" Jean said. She smiled wryly. "I imagine the Bembridge Scholars would have much to say about that"
"Yes, they would say go into the tomb and steal the gold," Marie-Ange said sourly. "After all this, I want gold, or there to be an oasis with a lemon tree in that tomb. I will settle for lemonade if I cannot have a pile of riches." She picked up one of the uncountably-high-number of rocks they'd dug up and tossed it down the staircase. "Une, deux, trois, quatre.... it should have hit the floor by now, yes?"
"I didn't hear it land. But the thing can't be *that* deep... can it?" Despite himself, Angelo took a step towards the entrance.
"The Pharaohs often kept their dead in tombs deep underground...so I would say this is a good thing...so to speak," Jean admitted. She took a deep breath, then smiled optimistically.
"Well...I suppose we've come this far."
Following Angelo and Marie Ange into the tomb, she lifted her torch, gasping in awe at the hieroglyphs on the wall. "They are remarkably preserved," she said, slowing to a stop at the end of a long staircase to read the writing on what appeared to be a large stone door.
"It says...these souls have betrayed our King and shall be cursed for the rest of their days and thereafter. Whoever shall release them will...release a curse upon this earth for all eternity." Jean drew in a breath.
"Oh, dear."
"Right, so all we have to do is leave now, quietly, not let anything out and never come back, and we'll be fine." Marie-Ange spun on her heel, heading towards the safety of bright desert sun and harsh sand. The relative safety at least. The discomfort was one thing, an eternity of curses upon the earth was another entirely.
“laqad ta'akhar qalilan ean dhalik“
A female Mummy appeared in a swirl of sand at the entrance to the tomb, tattered funerary wraps the only thing keeping her emaciated form from seemingly grumbling to dust.
The dry rustle of her voice seemed to come from all around them and she smiled, a small scarab traveling from her ear to the hole in her cheek that years of decay had wrought.
She crunched happily on its tiny body and gestured toward Marie-Ange with a lazy hand.
"yajib 'an tantabih 'iilaa altahdhirat”
"No. No no no no no no no." The words came out of Marie-Ange over and over as she scrambled - or tried to scramble - up the stairs of the tomb. The stairs made a horrible grinding noise and pulled flat. Marie-Ange fell, fingers scrabbling against the now smooth rock, and slid back down, swearing profusely as she attempted to pull herself back up the slick stone.
Wrapped in bandages, a mummified man lumbered out of the shadows, making hollow grunts as he emerged into the light. "So long, we have waited," he said in a raspy bass. Its eyes scanned, settling on Marie-Ange scrambling on the ground. Practically an instant, he was on her, grabbing her by the leg as she tried to escape.
"Doctor Grey! Mister Espinosa, the mummies speak French!" Marie-Ange screeched as she kicked at the grasping decaying hand. Her screeches turned to screams, despite the overlarge dagger she pulled out of nowhere.
The blade was quickly swatted away, and frantic screaming turned to hysterical cries for help.
The male mummy grunted at his victim. In a split second, he'd grabbed the blade from the ground while the female mummy was dragging Marie-Ange a few feet back. Then, he moved in on his victim, and with the combination of both a knife and the brute force of a man who had been waiting for centuries, he plucked her eye out of its socket and popped it into the empty recess where its left eye used to be.
Though Jean was horrified, she quickly grabbed a torch and waved it at the oddly French mummy, trying to light his hair on fire.
"Back, you strange creature!" she said.
The male mummy staggered back, then turned to look at her. (Marie-Ange's eye, through some magical maneuver, appeared to blink.) "You," he rasped, sounding puzzled. "It is you," and this time, he sounded more forceful. "My love, you have returned. The spirit of my love, reincarnated into this form all these years."
"Tuo amore? Minime! Non ita est, nam amica mea est. Dilectus meus qui tam diu expectavi"
The female Mummy spoke angrily, apparently in Latin which while interesting was not entirely surprising, and possibly would have helped with carbon dating had she not also left Marie-Ange on the ground and moved toward Jean with an outstretched, decaying hand covered in rotten bandages.
The sight of the two mummies made Jean's eyes widen. She let out a scream, swatting at them with her archeology bag. "Neutrum amo te. Redi ad somnum tuum!" she said. Those years studying many languages paid off.
Angelo was torn between which of the women to go to help - Marie-Ange, bleeding on the ground, or Jean, about to be kidnapped or worse by the two mummies fighting over her? After a moment frozen in uncertainty, he decided Jean was probably in more immediate danger and leaped towards her. "She's not going with either one of you."
The male mummy made a loud roar in dissent as this would-be aggressor tried to steal the reincarnation of his long-lost love from him. Furious, he grabbed Angelo with one bandaged hand, moving the other toward his throat.
Angelo pulled himself out of the mummy's grip, his lighter already in his hand, and took a few hurried strides back before stretching out - way out - to apply the flame to the bandages.
Mummy-Gabriel went up like a torch, screaming.
Mummy-Jubilee watched this dispassionately before pulling an amulet from amongst the dusty bandages that surrounded her form, a few whispered words forming in an ominous intonation before she flung it toward the rest of them. "Be cursed, all you who would keep me from my beloved. Sands of my home, animals of the desert, I beseech you now, come to my aid!"
"Oh, come on", Angelo groaned, shielding his eyes as the sand started to whip up into a storm around him. And that was before he noticed the beetles starting to crawl out from all directions.
"Go, go! Destroy them all, and bring my love to me."
Mummy-Jubilee laughed in delight, directing the scarabs toward the intrepid explorers as the sands around them continued to flow and make visibility almost impossible.
Despite the blood smeared down one side of her face, Marie-Ange's gaze was steady. She got to her feet, face grim and determined, and pulled the scarf off her hair. With it wrapped around one hand she picked up a still smoldering leg-bone of the male mummy. The makeshift torch worked as well as a club to smash scarabs. Soon, there were countless smashed beetles, and more still that had caught on fire. "Ange, back to back, like in the war!" She wasn't sure which war, there had been so many.
Angelo didn't hesitate, dashing to join her and do as she said, grabbing another bone on the way. "Good things these little bastards are fragile!"
While Angelo and Marie Ange fought the scarabs, Jean stumbled around the temple, looking for a way out for the three of them. Something on a pedestal caught her eye, however. It appeared to be an ancient black book. Picking it up, she saw an indentation in the book for what appeared to be a key. It just happened to be the shape of a trinket Angelo had brought with him and left in her care. Opening the trinket, she placed it in the indentation. With a turn, the book opened and the lights flickered as an unearthly wind blew through the tomb. After finding the right passage she began to read.
A portal seemed to open, and a pair of men on horses, drawn by a chariot, came for Mummy-Jubilee's soul.
Mummy-Jubilee turned and reached beseechingly toward Jean, her eyes panicked as the chariot took her and headed toward a seemingly empty wall in the tomb.
"la habibi. la tadaeuhum yabeaduni ean eaynayki. kan min almuftarad 'an nakun maean 'iilaa al'abdu!" (No, my love. Do not let them take me. We were meant to be together forever!)
Her cries faded away into a dusty echo as the sand that had been obscuring everything settled down onto the floor, and the scarabs scuttled away seemingly vanishing into thin air.
Arthur, Meggan, and Molly end up in a graveyard full of zombies looking for snacks. Nica and Maya get a taste for human flesh.
Meggan was dressed as Morticia Addams for the party, and in the process of heading to another room to view the classic series from which the character had actually originated. She hadn’t seen much of it yet, and hoped to watch more. After that one year everyone became their costumes, she had always resolved to dress as something that wasn't dangerous, and that character wasn’t dangerous in the least.
Or not too much, anyway. Turning the door knob, Meggan entered the rec room; or she thought she did. She gave a jolt of surprise; instead of the expected television and decorations, she found herself surrounded by fog. A few moments passed as it dissipated in one area, just enough for her to make out the ominous shapes. She was ensconced in a graveyard; there was the crumbling architecture of a mausoleum looming just further ahead.
She rubbed her arms, dimly noting the chill in the air and trying to get bearings; she thought she heard a sound nearby. Warily, she called out. “Hello? Is someone out there?” She had thought she could just make out another form in the swirling mist, but it was difficult to tell.
A head of blond hair poked out from behind a tombstone. Molly, dressed as a cheerleader, tilted her head. "Uh, hi!" she said cheerfully, quickly hiding something behind her back.
"Don't you go to my school?"
As if on queue with that, the sharp, distinct whine of a school whistle cut through the night. The source of the trill soon stumbled into the scene, revealing a blonde man adorned a track jacket over a white polo. His pair of short, short red shorts was matched with white athletic socks and a pair of trainers. Flailing, the man inched backward cautiously through the graveyard, his back — jacket proudly supporting Xavier's Fighting Mutants — to the girls and whistle held close to his mouth like a weapon.
Molly covered her ears before squinting. "Coach A?" she said, blinking curiously. "Uh---What are you doing here?"
Was there a rave or something she wasn't aware of? Come to think of it...that was something she did not want to think of Coach Arthur doing.
“We do, yeah,” Meggan acknowledged in distracted confusion to Molly. She was still taking in their surroundings. At the questioning of Arthur, she glanced over to him. “Yes, why’re you here? Come to that, what are we all doing here? I don’t think I was supposed to be meeting anyone here.” It was the worst spot for meetings, unless someone was going for a haunted house vibe.
She glanced over at the headstones, and waved vaguely in their direction. Her frantic imagination wanted to make them bigger than they really were. “Oh, and I wasn’t really planning to check out a plot—or—or visit anybody when it’s all misty and impossible to see where you’re going with every step. It’s just a bad idea." And yet, here she was.
Having two humans around was really not helping Molly's slayer patrol. "Exactly. So how about you guys go home and I'll go home and we'll all say we went home?" she offered helpfully, completely lying and not at all about to go look for vampires to shove a wooden stake into their heart.
A muffled thud from a mausoleum nearby caught her attention. Crap.
Coach A looked almost affronted. "Young ladies, I followed you both out here from the Halloween Dance. What happened there? Did someone spike the punch or cyberbully you?" Arthur blinked a little, staring around at the graveyard. His fists tightened again, "But this isn't the football field, unless Principal Sylvester let the dance committee go really overboard."
There was suddenly a loud knock from the mausoleum, as if the previous thud had been affronted to have been ignored.
With all attention now on the stone entombment, it was easy to see what had once been brocaded columns fronted by a statue of an angel with open arms. Only now time had washed all of that to grey, and the angel was missing one arm and most of its head. The mausoleum entrance itself was boarded shut with a hastily spray-painted "Only Dead Inside" written across what must have been the doors.
Another thud, and some noise that sounded like mumbling. Coach A perked at this, readying his whistle. "Sounds like someone is stuck in there. Did you two see any other students out here with you?"
But before they could answer, he was already moving toward the crypt.
“No, not a soul, Coach,” Meggan assured him, even as she moved to follow. “Did you?” She inquired of Molly. The blonde realized they wouldn’t have been able to really see anybody anyway, with the current atmosphere. “Or at least, I didn’t hear a peep until now. Or a frantic pounding of any kind.”
She moved closer to see, and momentarily stumbled; she prided herself on not screaming in utter terror, even if her heart pounded in her ears until she figured out what was wrong. She crouched for a moment to get a better look with a sigh of relief. Meggan realized that she had simply located the missing hand of that angel over there; it had been brushed against and caught in the hem of her dress. Well, most of the hand; the index finger was still absent. She wasn’t about to be the one to go off and look for the thing on a night like this.
With a tiny shudder, she tossed it out of the way, and then reached the crypt. How many could be in there?
Molly smiled helpfully. "Didn't hear a thing. Hey how about we call the police about the trapped people instead of trying to open the creepy---oh you're already going," she said, her face falling as she made a 'ffft' sound. "Fantastic."
If there were vampires in there she was going to have to protect Couch A and Meggan too. At least the other Scoobies strategically went looking for things that went bump in the night.
"Need some help?" she said, stepping in front of Meggan as she easily yanked off the boards in a way someone of her stature probably shouldn't have. If they were going to do it she might as well try to take care of it.
The pounding was getting louder. She eyed the mausoleum.
"Don't worry, we'll take care of you in a minute!"
Scrabbling could be heard beyond for a moment, and then the squelching of something liquid and wet hitting the ground rhythmically.
It was only moments before a putrefying claw jolted outward from the darkness followed by a low, guttural moan.
Another moan joined the first: "Braaaaiiiins," came the voice, and another set of outstretched arms emerged from the darkness, followed by a shambling form in a Star Trek minidress and boots. "Braaaaiiiins," the zombified Nica moaned again, reaching for Molly and her warm, delicious grey matter.
Molly quickly backflipped to avoid the clutches of the walking dead (heh), kicking Nica in the face. Landing in a crouch, she sighed and ran for the door to try to shove them back inside.
"Why couldn't it be vampires? So much easier. At least we can banter. These guys are all...brains this, brains that..." she muttered to herself.
"Ladies, this isn't appropriate behavior at all," Coach A scorned actively, "Although points for the spirit of the season and all."
He turned to Molly, clearly not understanding the severity of the situation, "That was excellent form, Hayes!"
Clearly lacking any sort of ability to read the situation, the blonde coach moved toward the zombies, whistle clutched in one hand. "Now let's all just settle down in here. This prank has gone far enough."
Maya lunged toward the noise, biting wildly as she clawed outward to drag Couch A in toward her mouth. It was like being clutched by a vice, death, and rebirth without the normal limits a mind placed on a body having given her what felt like super strength, even though it was just the numbness that came with not caring if you got hurt. It was only an endless hunger now, brain eternally seeking to feed and move toward the sounds of possible food.
"Dude!"
Shoving Arthur out of the way, Molly then proceeded to kick Maya back. "Hate to break it you guys but this isn't a prank. They're dead, and they're about to make us dead. So I say we run. Sound good?" Maybe if they got enough of a lead she could stake her two classmates through the brain stem. That's if they didn't bite her first.
Stupid zombies.
“Yes, yes,” Meggan shrieked as putrid hands clawed at the sleeves of her dress, even as she reared backwards. She did not want to be in the vicinity of these things, so she was very much in favor of this idea. “Running sounds like the best plan of all time, right now. Let’s do that,” she managed as she sought to stagger even further away from one of the walking dead.
Unfortunately for her, she crashed haphazardly into a marble monument thanks to a mix of the fog, and not watching anything but the zombies in her fear She dragged herself back up as fast as possible.
Not fast enough - the Nica zombie was on her in a moment, grabbing Meggan's arms and sinking her teeth into the young shapeshifter's arm. Blood spilled from the wound and seemed to drive the zombie even more savage, hungry growls emanating from her throat.
Meggan screamed in horror, momentarily stunned speechless by the extent of the utter agony. “Get off, get off,” she finally wailed between gasps of pain, fearful she might lose her arm to its hunger. Her frantic kicking at the foul thing did nothing to loosen the grip of those teeth, and just made the pain rippling through her forearm increase in scope.
"HEY!"
The nom-ing came to an abrupt end as Molly shoved her stake through Nica's throat, old, dark clotted blood gurgling up to the surface. She pulled the stake out, making a face. "Sorry," she muttered, then offered her hand to Meggan.
"This is bad, really bad."
"Foul! Red card! ... Everyone just stop!"
Coach A had his hands up now, whistle discarded. Perhaps the weight of the character was getting to him, because he was suddenly all sports metaphors. He had backed up at Molly's instance, but it was very clear that his first instinct was to help Meggan. "Let's all remember the rules of good sportsmanship, ladies. And you," he turned sharply to Molly, "Need to lay out some ground rules. Regardless, this is going to look very bad on your college applications."
Meggan felt a bit dizzy from the shock of the situation, and probably a good dose of blood loss, if she were honest with herself, and not denying the fact her arm was partly eaten. “Rip up my dress if you need a bandage, it’s long enough. It’s probably not too thin,” she managed to murmur quickly between pained gasps. She had instinctively grabbed hold of the bloody wound with shaking hands as she was pulled free. This would so need more than a bandage; she was scared she might lose her arm to some kind of infection.
She managed to focus on the Coach, and fought back a laugh at the statement. What did good sportsmanship matter when something was rising from the dead and feasting on human flesh? She swayed a bit. “J-just...shove me--hard--if I’m not fast enough when you’re running.” She was sweating, and more than apparently looking as though she might just pass out soon.
But before anyone could move, there was a horrible gurgling noise from the direction of the Zombie!Nica's corpse. Its hand began to twitch and it sat up, sunken eyes fixed firmly on Meggan and her wounded arm. "Brrrraains," it tried to say, but all that came out was a wet noise and decayed blood spouting from the wound Molly had inflicted.
Zombie!Maya had been moving closer as they concentrated on Zombie!Nica and she now took the opportunity to grasp hold of Coach A and pull him toward her mouth with a vicious strength.
This was immediately concerning for the faculty on hand. Arthur, no longer quite as fuzzy to the danger of the situation, responded with pure muscle memory backed by a healthy dose of adrenaline. Luckily enough, the missing limb from the statue was as good as a makeshift bat. And, fancy that, it was within reach.
WHAM.
The Coach managed to secure a firm grip, and the hit from the blow struck true, disarming his assailant. Seizing the opening, Arthur didn't have to be encouraged to scramble away from the only momentarily dazed Maya. Running was sounding like a better plan than sportsmanship after all.
Molly grimly looked at Nica. She didn't really have a face anymore but she had arms and legs and could slow them down. Since she was closest to her, she brandished her stake again, drawing in a breath.
"Sorry," she said. Even if she knew the real classmate she knew was long dead.
With a sickening crunch, she stabbed the stake once more through Nica's head, this time going for the brain. Ripping the stake out, she made a face as Nica's body hit the ground. But the wind brought with it the sounds of rustling and moans, causing Molly to clench her jaw.
"Crap," she said, just as more and more undead students surrounded them dressed in costumes.
"Guess they found the Halloween party at the school."
Meggan’s eyes flitted from one creature to the next; then, she saw it. “That way, go. There’s a way through them,” she managed when she noticed that there was an opening in the horde. Even as she spoke, even as she began to move, she looked down at her arm; she was starting to feel numb. The excruciating pain of the bite had, unnervingly, grown almost dull, even as it throbbed. It wasn’t right.
She shook her head and stumbled forward. It also felt as though she was burning up inside; and yet, just beyond that, a deathly chill was replacing settling into her. She was terrified, and uncertain of what might happen next. No, she knew. She knew from what those had become. She didn’t want to be that. She swallowed, and tried to quell the ache that was rapidly settling into her. She bit her lip, and gave a shiver.
All they could do was run.
With Molly in the lead, Coach A followed through the mass of high school zombie goers as the slayer staked, parried, stuck down, and made a gruesome way through what was left of Xavier's Fighting Mutants. Arthur did his best to assist Meggan here, but her deathly paleness against the onslaught of twisted familiar faces was as disheartening as it was gruesome.
He wasn't even sure where they were going at this point. Was anywhere safe? As it turned out... no. They crossed from the newly improved graveyard (once a football field, surely) into the adjacent parking without much incident. Molly was as gloriously ruthless as she was perky. But that last turn from the hallway to the lot proved one step too far: in front of them was poised an equally familiar, horrific crowd.
Arthur took a deep breath. He was the adult here. He had a duty.
"Girls... look after eachother. Get into a good college. Have a good life."
And with that, Coach A tossed himself into the onwaiting horde as a distraction for Meggan and Molly to make their way to safety. The zombies — all mindless, all fixated at this taller, blonder pound of flesh — eagerly grabbed and grappled for the fresh brains. Now was their chance to make it out. The Coach went out with a smile as the girls ran the fastest qualifying sprint he'd ever witnessed. Then he started to scream.
Their run resulted, ultimately in the safety provided by the school itself. The two women soon found themselves through a backstage door to the gymnasium — a room not only protected on each side by heavy fire doors, but also a simple lack of any other living or nonliving bodies interested in old props, chairs, and dust. Their relief, however, was temporary. A pounding soon began to echo on the exterior door. It seems the horde was finished with Coach A.
But a slayer made an excellent doorstop.
Meggan squeezed her eyes closed, as she sank down the wall, to finally sit down sprawled upon the floor shivering. She should mourn Coach’s sacrifice, but she couldn’t when she felt like this. The gnawing, aching void was rapidly growing within her. With each awful second that ticked by, she was starting to mind it less and less. She was hungry...no, scratch that. She was ravenous. She knew what would make her feel better, if only she gave in.
She turned her eyes upon Molly, the only one still in the room. She could have warned her; instead, one word hissed out of her mouth. “Brains?” It was less of a question, and more of a plea for the flesh of the only person in close proximity. She just needed to get up and latch on, didn’t she?
Molly tried to ignore Coach A's dying screams but failed miserably as she stood over Meggan. Molly's slayer strength was the only thing keeping the door closed, and even then it wouldn't hold with the number of zombies pressing against it, the door rattling with each slam of their fists. The smell of rotting flesh was enough to make one gag. Glancing down at Meggan, Molly made a face.
"I know what I gotta do but I don't want to. Why do I have to do it?" she muttered. She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't fast enough."
Then everything — the horde, Molly's poised strike, the very contagion itself — all stopped.
Marie-Ange, Angelo, and Jean end up exploring the tomb of Seti the First, where they run afoul of the tomb’s curse, and encounter the mummified remains of Gabriel and Jubilee.
The desert heat felt so abruptly harsh. Marie-Ange adjusted the scarf she'd wrapped around her face and neck to keep the sand and heat off, and wiped her face.
"I absolutely hate it here. I could be home, sipping a cool drink and having a pedicure." She drove her shovel into the sand for the uncountably-high-numberth time, and swore as it hit something hard. "No, instead I agree to go on an expedition to the desert, and I have sand in my brasserie and a sunburn."
She had worn all the right clothes for the desert, but it did not matter. She had red hair and fair skin and so she had a sunburn.
"Also I think I found something. Either a rock or another rock or perhaps another different rock."
"Or not a rock", Angelo said, leaning over her shoulder and peering into the hole. "It looks shinier than the last one."
Jean slipped on her glasses. "That is no rock," she said with a thoughtful British accent and a note of rising excitement. "It appears to be some sort of....scarab carving. Judging by the markings it may be from the dynasty of Seti the first."
She pulled down her glasses. "It was said that Seti the First was known to enact a curse against those who should ever disturb his tomb. We must be careful."
"Seti the first can think about what his tomb has done to my hair." Marie-Ange smacked her shovel against the scarab, and it rang in a way that something made of carved stone should not have. The rocks made a grinding noise as they split into a rough-cut staircase down under the sand.
"...Okay, that was way too easy for something that's supposed to be cursed and hidden." Angelo squinted into the darkness. "Kind of like it wants us to go down there."
"And set forth the events that would bring about our demise?" Jean said. She smiled wryly. "I imagine the Bembridge Scholars would have much to say about that"
"Yes, they would say go into the tomb and steal the gold," Marie-Ange said sourly. "After all this, I want gold, or there to be an oasis with a lemon tree in that tomb. I will settle for lemonade if I cannot have a pile of riches." She picked up one of the uncountably-high-number of rocks they'd dug up and tossed it down the staircase. "Une, deux, trois, quatre.... it should have hit the floor by now, yes?"
"I didn't hear it land. But the thing can't be *that* deep... can it?" Despite himself, Angelo took a step towards the entrance.
"The Pharaohs often kept their dead in tombs deep underground...so I would say this is a good thing...so to speak," Jean admitted. She took a deep breath, then smiled optimistically.
"Well...I suppose we've come this far."
Following Angelo and Marie Ange into the tomb, she lifted her torch, gasping in awe at the hieroglyphs on the wall. "They are remarkably preserved," she said, slowing to a stop at the end of a long staircase to read the writing on what appeared to be a large stone door.
"It says...these souls have betrayed our King and shall be cursed for the rest of their days and thereafter. Whoever shall release them will...release a curse upon this earth for all eternity." Jean drew in a breath.
"Oh, dear."
"Right, so all we have to do is leave now, quietly, not let anything out and never come back, and we'll be fine." Marie-Ange spun on her heel, heading towards the safety of bright desert sun and harsh sand. The relative safety at least. The discomfort was one thing, an eternity of curses upon the earth was another entirely.
“laqad ta'akhar qalilan ean dhalik“
A female Mummy appeared in a swirl of sand at the entrance to the tomb, tattered funerary wraps the only thing keeping her emaciated form from seemingly grumbling to dust.
The dry rustle of her voice seemed to come from all around them and she smiled, a small scarab traveling from her ear to the hole in her cheek that years of decay had wrought.
She crunched happily on its tiny body and gestured toward Marie-Ange with a lazy hand.
"yajib 'an tantabih 'iilaa altahdhirat”
"No. No no no no no no no." The words came out of Marie-Ange over and over as she scrambled - or tried to scramble - up the stairs of the tomb. The stairs made a horrible grinding noise and pulled flat. Marie-Ange fell, fingers scrabbling against the now smooth rock, and slid back down, swearing profusely as she attempted to pull herself back up the slick stone.
Wrapped in bandages, a mummified man lumbered out of the shadows, making hollow grunts as he emerged into the light. "So long, we have waited," he said in a raspy bass. Its eyes scanned, settling on Marie-Ange scrambling on the ground. Practically an instant, he was on her, grabbing her by the leg as she tried to escape.
"Doctor Grey! Mister Espinosa, the mummies speak French!" Marie-Ange screeched as she kicked at the grasping decaying hand. Her screeches turned to screams, despite the overlarge dagger she pulled out of nowhere.
The blade was quickly swatted away, and frantic screaming turned to hysterical cries for help.
The male mummy grunted at his victim. In a split second, he'd grabbed the blade from the ground while the female mummy was dragging Marie-Ange a few feet back. Then, he moved in on his victim, and with the combination of both a knife and the brute force of a man who had been waiting for centuries, he plucked her eye out of its socket and popped it into the empty recess where its left eye used to be.
Though Jean was horrified, she quickly grabbed a torch and waved it at the oddly French mummy, trying to light his hair on fire.
"Back, you strange creature!" she said.
The male mummy staggered back, then turned to look at her. (Marie-Ange's eye, through some magical maneuver, appeared to blink.) "You," he rasped, sounding puzzled. "It is you," and this time, he sounded more forceful. "My love, you have returned. The spirit of my love, reincarnated into this form all these years."
"Tuo amore? Minime! Non ita est, nam amica mea est. Dilectus meus qui tam diu expectavi"
The female Mummy spoke angrily, apparently in Latin which while interesting was not entirely surprising, and possibly would have helped with carbon dating had she not also left Marie-Ange on the ground and moved toward Jean with an outstretched, decaying hand covered in rotten bandages.
The sight of the two mummies made Jean's eyes widen. She let out a scream, swatting at them with her archeology bag. "Neutrum amo te. Redi ad somnum tuum!" she said. Those years studying many languages paid off.
Angelo was torn between which of the women to go to help - Marie-Ange, bleeding on the ground, or Jean, about to be kidnapped or worse by the two mummies fighting over her? After a moment frozen in uncertainty, he decided Jean was probably in more immediate danger and leaped towards her. "She's not going with either one of you."
The male mummy made a loud roar in dissent as this would-be aggressor tried to steal the reincarnation of his long-lost love from him. Furious, he grabbed Angelo with one bandaged hand, moving the other toward his throat.
Angelo pulled himself out of the mummy's grip, his lighter already in his hand, and took a few hurried strides back before stretching out - way out - to apply the flame to the bandages.
Mummy-Gabriel went up like a torch, screaming.
Mummy-Jubilee watched this dispassionately before pulling an amulet from amongst the dusty bandages that surrounded her form, a few whispered words forming in an ominous intonation before she flung it toward the rest of them. "Be cursed, all you who would keep me from my beloved. Sands of my home, animals of the desert, I beseech you now, come to my aid!"
"Oh, come on", Angelo groaned, shielding his eyes as the sand started to whip up into a storm around him. And that was before he noticed the beetles starting to crawl out from all directions.
"Go, go! Destroy them all, and bring my love to me."
Mummy-Jubilee laughed in delight, directing the scarabs toward the intrepid explorers as the sands around them continued to flow and make visibility almost impossible.
Despite the blood smeared down one side of her face, Marie-Ange's gaze was steady. She got to her feet, face grim and determined, and pulled the scarf off her hair. With it wrapped around one hand she picked up a still smoldering leg-bone of the male mummy. The makeshift torch worked as well as a club to smash scarabs. Soon, there were countless smashed beetles, and more still that had caught on fire. "Ange, back to back, like in the war!" She wasn't sure which war, there had been so many.
Angelo didn't hesitate, dashing to join her and do as she said, grabbing another bone on the way. "Good things these little bastards are fragile!"
While Angelo and Marie Ange fought the scarabs, Jean stumbled around the temple, looking for a way out for the three of them. Something on a pedestal caught her eye, however. It appeared to be an ancient black book. Picking it up, she saw an indentation in the book for what appeared to be a key. It just happened to be the shape of a trinket Angelo had brought with him and left in her care. Opening the trinket, she placed it in the indentation. With a turn, the book opened and the lights flickered as an unearthly wind blew through the tomb. After finding the right passage she began to read.
A portal seemed to open, and a pair of men on horses, drawn by a chariot, came for Mummy-Jubilee's soul.
Mummy-Jubilee turned and reached beseechingly toward Jean, her eyes panicked as the chariot took her and headed toward a seemingly empty wall in the tomb.
"la habibi. la tadaeuhum yabeaduni ean eaynayki. kan min almuftarad 'an nakun maean 'iilaa al'abdu!" (No, my love. Do not let them take me. We were meant to be together forever!)
Her cries faded away into a dusty echo as the sand that had been obscuring everything settled down onto the floor, and the scarabs scuttled away seemingly vanishing into thin air.
Arthur, Meggan, and Molly end up in a graveyard full of zombies looking for snacks. Nica and Maya get a taste for human flesh.
Meggan was dressed as Morticia Addams for the party, and in the process of heading to another room to view the classic series from which the character had actually originated. She hadn’t seen much of it yet, and hoped to watch more. After that one year everyone became their costumes, she had always resolved to dress as something that wasn't dangerous, and that character wasn’t dangerous in the least.
Or not too much, anyway. Turning the door knob, Meggan entered the rec room; or she thought she did. She gave a jolt of surprise; instead of the expected television and decorations, she found herself surrounded by fog. A few moments passed as it dissipated in one area, just enough for her to make out the ominous shapes. She was ensconced in a graveyard; there was the crumbling architecture of a mausoleum looming just further ahead.
She rubbed her arms, dimly noting the chill in the air and trying to get bearings; she thought she heard a sound nearby. Warily, she called out. “Hello? Is someone out there?” She had thought she could just make out another form in the swirling mist, but it was difficult to tell.
A head of blond hair poked out from behind a tombstone. Molly, dressed as a cheerleader, tilted her head. "Uh, hi!" she said cheerfully, quickly hiding something behind her back.
"Don't you go to my school?"
As if on queue with that, the sharp, distinct whine of a school whistle cut through the night. The source of the trill soon stumbled into the scene, revealing a blonde man adorned a track jacket over a white polo. His pair of short, short red shorts was matched with white athletic socks and a pair of trainers. Flailing, the man inched backward cautiously through the graveyard, his back — jacket proudly supporting Xavier's Fighting Mutants — to the girls and whistle held close to his mouth like a weapon.
Molly covered her ears before squinting. "Coach A?" she said, blinking curiously. "Uh---What are you doing here?"
Was there a rave or something she wasn't aware of? Come to think of it...that was something she did not want to think of Coach Arthur doing.
“We do, yeah,” Meggan acknowledged in distracted confusion to Molly. She was still taking in their surroundings. At the questioning of Arthur, she glanced over to him. “Yes, why’re you here? Come to that, what are we all doing here? I don’t think I was supposed to be meeting anyone here.” It was the worst spot for meetings, unless someone was going for a haunted house vibe.
She glanced over at the headstones, and waved vaguely in their direction. Her frantic imagination wanted to make them bigger than they really were. “Oh, and I wasn’t really planning to check out a plot—or—or visit anybody when it’s all misty and impossible to see where you’re going with every step. It’s just a bad idea." And yet, here she was.
Having two humans around was really not helping Molly's slayer patrol. "Exactly. So how about you guys go home and I'll go home and we'll all say we went home?" she offered helpfully, completely lying and not at all about to go look for vampires to shove a wooden stake into their heart.
A muffled thud from a mausoleum nearby caught her attention. Crap.
Coach A looked almost affronted. "Young ladies, I followed you both out here from the Halloween Dance. What happened there? Did someone spike the punch or cyberbully you?" Arthur blinked a little, staring around at the graveyard. His fists tightened again, "But this isn't the football field, unless Principal Sylvester let the dance committee go really overboard."
There was suddenly a loud knock from the mausoleum, as if the previous thud had been affronted to have been ignored.
With all attention now on the stone entombment, it was easy to see what had once been brocaded columns fronted by a statue of an angel with open arms. Only now time had washed all of that to grey, and the angel was missing one arm and most of its head. The mausoleum entrance itself was boarded shut with a hastily spray-painted "Only Dead Inside" written across what must have been the doors.
Another thud, and some noise that sounded like mumbling. Coach A perked at this, readying his whistle. "Sounds like someone is stuck in there. Did you two see any other students out here with you?"
But before they could answer, he was already moving toward the crypt.
“No, not a soul, Coach,” Meggan assured him, even as she moved to follow. “Did you?” She inquired of Molly. The blonde realized they wouldn’t have been able to really see anybody anyway, with the current atmosphere. “Or at least, I didn’t hear a peep until now. Or a frantic pounding of any kind.”
She moved closer to see, and momentarily stumbled; she prided herself on not screaming in utter terror, even if her heart pounded in her ears until she figured out what was wrong. She crouched for a moment to get a better look with a sigh of relief. Meggan realized that she had simply located the missing hand of that angel over there; it had been brushed against and caught in the hem of her dress. Well, most of the hand; the index finger was still absent. She wasn’t about to be the one to go off and look for the thing on a night like this.
With a tiny shudder, she tossed it out of the way, and then reached the crypt. How many could be in there?
Molly smiled helpfully. "Didn't hear a thing. Hey how about we call the police about the trapped people instead of trying to open the creepy---oh you're already going," she said, her face falling as she made a 'ffft' sound. "Fantastic."
If there were vampires in there she was going to have to protect Couch A and Meggan too. At least the other Scoobies strategically went looking for things that went bump in the night.
"Need some help?" she said, stepping in front of Meggan as she easily yanked off the boards in a way someone of her stature probably shouldn't have. If they were going to do it she might as well try to take care of it.
The pounding was getting louder. She eyed the mausoleum.
"Don't worry, we'll take care of you in a minute!"
Scrabbling could be heard beyond for a moment, and then the squelching of something liquid and wet hitting the ground rhythmically.
It was only moments before a putrefying claw jolted outward from the darkness followed by a low, guttural moan.
Another moan joined the first: "Braaaaiiiins," came the voice, and another set of outstretched arms emerged from the darkness, followed by a shambling form in a Star Trek minidress and boots. "Braaaaiiiins," the zombified Nica moaned again, reaching for Molly and her warm, delicious grey matter.
Molly quickly backflipped to avoid the clutches of the walking dead (heh), kicking Nica in the face. Landing in a crouch, she sighed and ran for the door to try to shove them back inside.
"Why couldn't it be vampires? So much easier. At least we can banter. These guys are all...brains this, brains that..." she muttered to herself.
"Ladies, this isn't appropriate behavior at all," Coach A scorned actively, "Although points for the spirit of the season and all."
He turned to Molly, clearly not understanding the severity of the situation, "That was excellent form, Hayes!"
Clearly lacking any sort of ability to read the situation, the blonde coach moved toward the zombies, whistle clutched in one hand. "Now let's all just settle down in here. This prank has gone far enough."
Maya lunged toward the noise, biting wildly as she clawed outward to drag Couch A in toward her mouth. It was like being clutched by a vice, death, and rebirth without the normal limits a mind placed on a body having given her what felt like super strength, even though it was just the numbness that came with not caring if you got hurt. It was only an endless hunger now, brain eternally seeking to feed and move toward the sounds of possible food.
"Dude!"
Shoving Arthur out of the way, Molly then proceeded to kick Maya back. "Hate to break it you guys but this isn't a prank. They're dead, and they're about to make us dead. So I say we run. Sound good?" Maybe if they got enough of a lead she could stake her two classmates through the brain stem. That's if they didn't bite her first.
Stupid zombies.
“Yes, yes,” Meggan shrieked as putrid hands clawed at the sleeves of her dress, even as she reared backwards. She did not want to be in the vicinity of these things, so she was very much in favor of this idea. “Running sounds like the best plan of all time, right now. Let’s do that,” she managed as she sought to stagger even further away from one of the walking dead.
Unfortunately for her, she crashed haphazardly into a marble monument thanks to a mix of the fog, and not watching anything but the zombies in her fear She dragged herself back up as fast as possible.
Not fast enough - the Nica zombie was on her in a moment, grabbing Meggan's arms and sinking her teeth into the young shapeshifter's arm. Blood spilled from the wound and seemed to drive the zombie even more savage, hungry growls emanating from her throat.
Meggan screamed in horror, momentarily stunned speechless by the extent of the utter agony. “Get off, get off,” she finally wailed between gasps of pain, fearful she might lose her arm to its hunger. Her frantic kicking at the foul thing did nothing to loosen the grip of those teeth, and just made the pain rippling through her forearm increase in scope.
"HEY!"
The nom-ing came to an abrupt end as Molly shoved her stake through Nica's throat, old, dark clotted blood gurgling up to the surface. She pulled the stake out, making a face. "Sorry," she muttered, then offered her hand to Meggan.
"This is bad, really bad."
"Foul! Red card! ... Everyone just stop!"
Coach A had his hands up now, whistle discarded. Perhaps the weight of the character was getting to him, because he was suddenly all sports metaphors. He had backed up at Molly's instance, but it was very clear that his first instinct was to help Meggan. "Let's all remember the rules of good sportsmanship, ladies. And you," he turned sharply to Molly, "Need to lay out some ground rules. Regardless, this is going to look very bad on your college applications."
Meggan felt a bit dizzy from the shock of the situation, and probably a good dose of blood loss, if she were honest with herself, and not denying the fact her arm was partly eaten. “Rip up my dress if you need a bandage, it’s long enough. It’s probably not too thin,” she managed to murmur quickly between pained gasps. She had instinctively grabbed hold of the bloody wound with shaking hands as she was pulled free. This would so need more than a bandage; she was scared she might lose her arm to some kind of infection.
She managed to focus on the Coach, and fought back a laugh at the statement. What did good sportsmanship matter when something was rising from the dead and feasting on human flesh? She swayed a bit. “J-just...shove me--hard--if I’m not fast enough when you’re running.” She was sweating, and more than apparently looking as though she might just pass out soon.
But before anyone could move, there was a horrible gurgling noise from the direction of the Zombie!Nica's corpse. Its hand began to twitch and it sat up, sunken eyes fixed firmly on Meggan and her wounded arm. "Brrrraains," it tried to say, but all that came out was a wet noise and decayed blood spouting from the wound Molly had inflicted.
Zombie!Maya had been moving closer as they concentrated on Zombie!Nica and she now took the opportunity to grasp hold of Coach A and pull him toward her mouth with a vicious strength.
This was immediately concerning for the faculty on hand. Arthur, no longer quite as fuzzy to the danger of the situation, responded with pure muscle memory backed by a healthy dose of adrenaline. Luckily enough, the missing limb from the statue was as good as a makeshift bat. And, fancy that, it was within reach.
WHAM.
The Coach managed to secure a firm grip, and the hit from the blow struck true, disarming his assailant. Seizing the opening, Arthur didn't have to be encouraged to scramble away from the only momentarily dazed Maya. Running was sounding like a better plan than sportsmanship after all.
Molly grimly looked at Nica. She didn't really have a face anymore but she had arms and legs and could slow them down. Since she was closest to her, she brandished her stake again, drawing in a breath.
"Sorry," she said. Even if she knew the real classmate she knew was long dead.
With a sickening crunch, she stabbed the stake once more through Nica's head, this time going for the brain. Ripping the stake out, she made a face as Nica's body hit the ground. But the wind brought with it the sounds of rustling and moans, causing Molly to clench her jaw.
"Crap," she said, just as more and more undead students surrounded them dressed in costumes.
"Guess they found the Halloween party at the school."
Meggan’s eyes flitted from one creature to the next; then, she saw it. “That way, go. There’s a way through them,” she managed when she noticed that there was an opening in the horde. Even as she spoke, even as she began to move, she looked down at her arm; she was starting to feel numb. The excruciating pain of the bite had, unnervingly, grown almost dull, even as it throbbed. It wasn’t right.
She shook her head and stumbled forward. It also felt as though she was burning up inside; and yet, just beyond that, a deathly chill was replacing settling into her. She was terrified, and uncertain of what might happen next. No, she knew. She knew from what those had become. She didn’t want to be that. She swallowed, and tried to quell the ache that was rapidly settling into her. She bit her lip, and gave a shiver.
All they could do was run.
With Molly in the lead, Coach A followed through the mass of high school zombie goers as the slayer staked, parried, stuck down, and made a gruesome way through what was left of Xavier's Fighting Mutants. Arthur did his best to assist Meggan here, but her deathly paleness against the onslaught of twisted familiar faces was as disheartening as it was gruesome.
He wasn't even sure where they were going at this point. Was anywhere safe? As it turned out... no. They crossed from the newly improved graveyard (once a football field, surely) into the adjacent parking without much incident. Molly was as gloriously ruthless as she was perky. But that last turn from the hallway to the lot proved one step too far: in front of them was poised an equally familiar, horrific crowd.
Arthur took a deep breath. He was the adult here. He had a duty.
"Girls... look after eachother. Get into a good college. Have a good life."
And with that, Coach A tossed himself into the onwaiting horde as a distraction for Meggan and Molly to make their way to safety. The zombies — all mindless, all fixated at this taller, blonder pound of flesh — eagerly grabbed and grappled for the fresh brains. Now was their chance to make it out. The Coach went out with a smile as the girls ran the fastest qualifying sprint he'd ever witnessed. Then he started to scream.
Their run resulted, ultimately in the safety provided by the school itself. The two women soon found themselves through a backstage door to the gymnasium — a room not only protected on each side by heavy fire doors, but also a simple lack of any other living or nonliving bodies interested in old props, chairs, and dust. Their relief, however, was temporary. A pounding soon began to echo on the exterior door. It seems the horde was finished with Coach A.
But a slayer made an excellent doorstop.
Meggan squeezed her eyes closed, as she sank down the wall, to finally sit down sprawled upon the floor shivering. She should mourn Coach’s sacrifice, but she couldn’t when she felt like this. The gnawing, aching void was rapidly growing within her. With each awful second that ticked by, she was starting to mind it less and less. She was hungry...no, scratch that. She was ravenous. She knew what would make her feel better, if only she gave in.
She turned her eyes upon Molly, the only one still in the room. She could have warned her; instead, one word hissed out of her mouth. “Brains?” It was less of a question, and more of a plea for the flesh of the only person in close proximity. She just needed to get up and latch on, didn’t she?
Molly tried to ignore Coach A's dying screams but failed miserably as she stood over Meggan. Molly's slayer strength was the only thing keeping the door closed, and even then it wouldn't hold with the number of zombies pressing against it, the door rattling with each slam of their fists. The smell of rotting flesh was enough to make one gag. Glancing down at Meggan, Molly made a face.
"I know what I gotta do but I don't want to. Why do I have to do it?" she muttered. She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't fast enough."
Then everything — the horde, Molly's poised strike, the very contagion itself — all stopped.
