Night of the LamiaA Story by RIO Edward Hines gets more than he bargains for when he is dispatched to Egypt as a junior archaeologist. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity for him but will he get out of it alive?
Egyptian
Nights: the night of the lamia 1892 August
6th:
I fear the stories were true. I’d believed them to be merely tales;
mutterings from a highly superstitious bunch that if listened to, could scare
the bravest of hearts. Tomorrow they say, is the Blood Festival…and I am the
sacrifice! I am quite certain that the aforementioned event is bound to happen.
Everything they’d said would take place up to now has occurred, why would the
festival be any exception? I can barely write now; my hands tremble so! But I
must continue. My story has to be told. Time is of the essence. If…if a-anything
happens, Yasmin would hopefully find this.
*** August
1st:
Egypt! A land oozing with such history that was almost tangible. Alas, I
was here. I shall keep this journal as it might well aid me in my research. I
write this in my room now. It is quite comfortable. The ceiling fan provides
some much needed relief from the burning sun. Its incessant whir serves as a constant reminder that
I am not back in London. The bed, though
quite small (even for a slight man such as me) is quite agreeable. I’d had a
good night’s rest (apart from an occurrence which I shall speak of shortly).
And now, I shall write about the journey of yesterday. With all expenses paid
for by the Institute of Anthropology and Archeology, I’d boarded a ship from
London to Syria where I’d crossed the border on camel-back to Cairo. A group of
four men clad in white gallabeyas escorted me to the Temple Of Askar where the
bulk of my research will be carried out and where I shall dwell ‘til the job is
done. “You go to the Great Temple do you not?” one of
them asked me. They had formed a formation around me. One travelled in front,
with another behind me whilst the other two were on either side of me. It was
the one to my right that had asked the question. I was glad that my Arabic was
excellent for I wouldn’t have been able to understand a word he’d said
otherwise. “The Temple of Askar? Yes.” “Were there not two that came before you?” I think I became immobile for a bit. How had he
known about them? “Er, yes. Samuel Briggs and John Kelly were
drafted to work here some time ago. But…” I wasn’t sure how much he knew so I
couldn’t say too much. I myself knew little about the disappearances of my
colleagues and it was a mystery I was willing to uncover given the chance. So I
said, “You knew them too?” “We took them to the temple the same way we take
you now and would have taken them back when their business here was over. But
they never showed.” “Did some disaster befall them at the temple?”
My curiosity had been awakened and I looked at him keenly. Briggs had been
dispatched two years ago and Kelly the year after. Their absence had caused
such a commotion back at our base in London that Egypt was declared an
off-limits area by the senior archeologists. I was the only one eager to take
on the job and as a junior officer wanted to establish myself at the Institute.
I only had qualms about travelling alone as was the policy which, I must say, I
have considered redundant on many occasions. My interest wasn’t humored
however, as my other companion to my left said, “We do not discuss matters of
the Temple. We are here to take you there and that is all we shall do!” A
pointed look at his brethren signified the end of conversation and the rest of
the journey was spent in silence. Our camels were slow and with the occasional
stops we took, I doubted we would reach our destination before nightfall. But as
twilight approached, I saw in the near distance a dome in the richest yellow that,
against the backdrop of the great Egyptian pyramids and the coming sunset, gave
it a majestic and picturesque feel. “We stop here,” said my escort in front,
bringing his camel to a halt. “I…hope you find what you seek here.” Then bowing
slightly, said, “May Allah guide you and keep you!” The others echoed his
words. I began to feel a little uneasy. It wasn’t their blessings that got to
me but the manner in which it was said- with such intensity- that gave me a
general feeling of foreboding. But I was reading too much into it all! Maybe it
was because I’d be spending close to a month in a strange land. I thanked them
for their hospitality and set out towards the Temple but not before
Abdullah-for that is what the companion on my right is called- took my hand in
a firm grip and said, “Allah save you!” In my palm was a wooden amulet with
some symbols I couldn’t fathom at the moment. He gave me a knowing nod and set
off with the others in another direction. I couldn’t ignore the feeling of
apprehension that grew in my stomach with every passing minute. *** The gate of the Great Temple was made of wrought
iron. I counted seven bars that made up the gate with the one in the middle
being the tallest, giving it a triangular shape. A miniature snake had been
carved on the fourth and fifth bars so that when opened, half a snake remained
on either side. A man stood outside the entrance and I took him to be the
Temple’s guard. He looked me up and down, from my brown travelling boots to my
tousled dark hair. “You must be Edward Hines, the Englishman, no?”
I nodded in the affirmative. “Beasts are not allowed in the Temple of Askar.”
He directed me to a stable, where I left the camel with the stableman. Although
there are some details I’d really like to for-go (due to the mere fact that
they do not in any way add to my purpose of being here), I consider myself a…professional
so I shall add every little detail. The stableman asked me if I was the Brit
come to stay in the temple a while to which I nodded again, being too weary
even to speak. He took my arm in an iron grip that I would’ve thought
impossible for someone his age. His dark eyes widened and the wrinkles on his
forehead seemed to double. “Do not go in there,” he said in a crackly voice.
His English was understandable, though spoken in an accent. I asked him, as
politely as I could, to release my arm as it was starting to feel numb. He did,
and as I turned to leave, shouted, “Listen to me, my man, for those that go in
never come out. Beware!” His words stopped me and I have to admit, the speed at
which my heart beat accelerated. He came over and faced me, eyes sharp, and
said earnestly, “She will drain you of all that makes you a man, and your soul
shall be no more!” I almost burst out laughing but I quickly realized from the
look on his face that he’d meant every word. “Sir,” I said. “I thank you for your… concern
but I really do have to set off now. I tire from the long journey and the guard
awaits me.” I walked briskly to the temple entrance but not without hearing him
say, “Look for Yasmin, she might be able to help you, God willing!”
The walls of the Temple were built in bricks
much akin to some of the houses in London. From the entrance, I walked through
a large courtyard and getting to the temple proper, I was met by two ladies who
helped me with my travel bags. Bowing low, they welcomed me in Arabic and said
that they hoped my journey was safe and that I was to follow them to my room. I
bowed back my thanks and went with them. As I walked I observed the temple
walls. Shapes and hieroglyphics- the language of Ancient Egypt- filled them.
Weariness prevented me from studying the shapes like I ought to have but in
retrospect serpents seemed to dominate most of the illustrations. I thought
nothing of it then; it was a well known fact-to archeologists and historians
anyhow- that these creatures featured chiefly in the lives and religion of the
peoples of Ancient Egypt and perhaps it is so that this tradition has stayed
with them even to the late nineteenth century. One of the illustrations caught
my eye though. It showed female figures surrounding a basin full of red liquid,
in which a female lay. I knew it to be the story of Queen Amina, wife of Pharaoh
Tetmus from the Elchyamus dynasty.
She’d murdered children and bathed in their blood, believing it would retain
her youth. Some records claim she’d even killed her only daughter in order to
achieve the prize of youth. Although I was no novice to stories like this, I
still shuddered at the drawing. Arriving in my room, I quickly made use of the lavatory
(must remember to ask about a rather curious dagger I’d found there. Dirtied
with sand, it lay just behind the door) and fell upon my bed. I don’t recall
ever being this tired out after a journey but I suppose I’ve never been on a
long journey such as this one. I must’ve fallen into a deep sleep for I dreamed
a terrifying dream that seemed so real. I’d been asleep on the bed just as I
had in reality when I felt…something move over my legs. I wasn’t a deep sleeper
so I awoke- in my sleep- to find a large cobra crawling over me! I yelped; for
as I became more alert I saw several snakes of different species, coming in
through the window and making for my bed. I think I cried out for real as I had
in my nightmare for as I opened my eyes I saw a figure hovering over me. My
vision was blurred so I shut my eyes tightly and opened them again. This time I
saw one of the women who’d welcomed me at the entrance and shown me my room. I
looked around me and checked myself to make sure nothing was on me. “Oh, what a horrid dream!” I sighed and sat up
on the bed. The window was open but I
didn’t see any creature slithering into the room. I looked up at my savior, for
I believed that was what she was. Any minute more and that cobra would have had
me. She had a bemused, no, amused expression on her face. As if she was having
a joke at my expense. I explained as best I could that I’d had a horrible dream.
I hadn’t realized how beautiful she was. The moonlight did wonders for her
complexion and she seemed to be aglow. She made me think of my Jane back at
home and I realized with a jolt that it was the first time I’d spared her any
thought since yesterday when I’d said goodbye. I prayed to God to guard her in
her present condition and mentally promised that I would be back before the
baby was due. The girl’s voice broke me from my reverie. “I
brought you some food, sir. I came earlier but you were fast asleep and I did
not wish to disturb you. If you still do not wish to eat I can…” I suddenly
realized how hungry I was- I’d hardly eaten a thing since I got off the ship,
safe for a snack- so I told her that I would love some food. It was a delicious
meal and I ate to my filling. When she’d cleared away the cutlery, she returned
with a message: “Queen Leilah bade me wish you goodnight and she hopes you have
a wonderful night’s rest. She requests to see you tomorrow, if you will?” “I’d be honored to!” How could I stay in the
Temple without seeing the Queen who’d graciously allowed my stay? She gave
quick smile, bowed and made to leave. A sudden idea came to me and I seized the
opportunity. I remembered the words of the old stableman as I left his stable.
So I said audibly, “Yasmin?” She turned to me, a look of confusion on her
face, “sorry, sir?” I smiled, “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking aloud.”
She left and I was alone again. I made sure the window was shut this time and
turned the ceiling fan to the highest. Sleep didn’t come, of which I was glad. To
pass off the time, I read a few chapters of a novel and wondered later, if
there was a special way of saluting the queen of a temple that dated back thousands
of years.
August
2nd: Well, I have just met the queen!
Magnificent being, she is! After breakfast, another girl came to my room (this
one called Farida. I have made it my business to know all their names. The ones
of yesterday were Aisha and Salima. I wonder when I shall get to meet Yasmin?
Not that I paid heed to the stableman’s words, I was just curious) and led me
through a passageway with brown oaken doors on each side and a woman guarding
each. They were clad in figure-hugging, sequined bras and ankle-length skirts
that clung to their hips at the top. They would surely be deemed coquettish if
they walked on the streets of London in their wonderful attire! After a few
minutes of walking- it was quite a long passageway! �" we finally entered a
spacious circular room and I coughed at the stifling smell of burning incense.
I wryly thought of my mother and her favorite saying: too much of everything is
not good! Though a pleasant scent, I felt dizzy at its excessive use. More
scantily clad women were here; some laid out a long table full of dishes I
don’t think I’ve ever seen. On a golden throne sat an exotic looking woman,
with dark, flowing tresses. On either side of her were ladies that fanned her
unceasingly. Queen Leilah stood when I entered the room and I really hope she
didn’t notice how I stared. I’d never seen anything so…gorgeous! It was almost
inhumane. She walked towards me in a graceful and elegant fashion as if she
were about to break into dance. She was dressed in a similar manner as the
others I’d seen here, exposing her toned middle area. However, she was adorned
in the finest jewelries, with several gold belly chains on her waist and even
more golden necklaces on her neckline. Her eyes were dark charcoals that I felt
burnt deep within me and her lips, pale pink and voluptuous. I do not in any
way wish to exaggerate her appearance though I feel I have in some way
underestimated her finery. I shall settle, however, for what I have written. With
an elegant bow, the queen of the Temple Of Askar took my hand and led me to a
rectangular glass table that had been laid with all kinds of assorted dishes
and wines. “Welcome to the land of Egypt and the Temple of
Askar, Mr. Hines. I trust your first night was enjoyable?” Her voice was
musical to the ear and her English great but I couldn’t help but notice that
her tongue seemed to linger on words that contained the letter ‘s’ so that she
seemed to make a hissing sound. “Ah, yes.” I replied, taking my seat which was
drawn for me by one of her female subjects. “I must thank you for your
hospitality.” I mirrored her actions, choosing from the variety of foods and
putting them on my plate. “Oh, do not worry,” she waved her hand as if
averting a fly. “Your sponsors pay us handsomely for our hospitality. How long
do you intend to stay?” “A month at the most. That is the duration I
have been given to finalize my findings here.” “Ah, so you will be here for our annual festival!”
she said with a cheerful smile. “I’m sure you will have a lot to learn then,
Mr. Hines. The Festival of Life has been held since ancient times and this year
shall be no exception! You will join us, will you not, sir?” “Certainly! I’d be more than delighted to.” She laughed, a sound like birdsong, and with
lean, long fingers took a sip of red wine without once releasing me from her
gaze. As I stared deep into her eyes, I thought I saw a flicker of
something…indescribable and sinister but it disappeared as soon as it’d come so
I wrote it off as mere imagination. Halfway through the meal, trilling music
began. This was much different to the ones I hear on my occasional visits to
the Opera. Soft at first, its unassuming
sweetness was like rain on a scorching day. I welcomed it wholeheartedly. Five
ladies of equal height, coloring and beauty took places before us and with
never-ending tresses that fell down their backs like a waterfall began strong,
fluid movements much akin to that of a snake. Swiftly, the decibels of the slow
music I had become accustomed to became an octave higher and without effort on
the part of the dancers, the dance became much quicker and more energetic,
every movement in tune to the beating drums. It was as though they themselves
directed the drummer’s hands. I am not ashamed to say that I was mesmerized as
my eyes followed every hip and arm movement. I felt as if the drums themselves
had found their way into me and flooded my very soul. I was all ears and all
eyes and, as the queen later pointed out, all mouth. “Mr. Hines, there will be more dancing such as
that in the festival,” I heard Queen Leilah say as the music stopped and the
dancing came to a halt. “You needn’t act as if you will never again see
anything of the like.” I suddenly became hot under the collar and if I were to
look in the mirror, my face, I am sure, would have been two shades lighter. I
knew she was teasing for she had on her face a devilish grin. I desired to look
anywhere but at her so I let my eyes drink in every detail of our venue. Of the
departing dancers and their graceful gait they approved. The floor was of dark
marble that would have been cool to the feet where it not for the shoes I had
on and the stretch of plush red carpet that lay beneath the dining table. We
were enclosed in a circular room draped with silky peach curtains. The door
from whence I came in stood as it had with a barefoot female guarding it. She
nodded and gave way for another female carrying a deerskin drum. I was struck
by a sudden revelation and I tore my eyes to the waiting ones of the queen. I
caught a hint of red in those dark eyes. Could it have been the reflection from
her glass of red wine as she brought it up to drink? The thought of red eyes
went as soon as it had come and I concentrated on the question I was about to
ask. It is only now that I write this that I remember. “Your majesty,” I began. “It is my second day in
this temple and it has come to my attention- though I may well be wrong- that
there are no men here! Right from my entrance ‘til this moment I have only seen
the opposite sex.” “Of course,” came the reply. “I do not blame you;
it is a well known fact only within this city so you would have in no way
known. The great Temple was built by the original goddess, Sphina. It was and
still is a place of solitude, you could say, for women.” “So no man is allowed in?” “No, not unless invited. Of course that would
require sacrifices and the like, for any man that sets foot dies instantly. You
are still alive, Mr. Hines,” she added with a subtle smile. “That means all
precautions have been taken. As it were, three goats have had to be killed and
their blood sprinkled on the gate. Three goats for you and the two others that
came to conduct their research before you.” “You mean my colleagues, Briggs and Kelly!” “I do not quite remember their names but yes,
that does ring a bell. We bade them goodbye with the assurance that their
research had been completed.” “So…so they left?” I asked, quite aware that my
voice had taken a darker tone. I was disappointed. I had hoped that my visit
here would unearth the mystery of my missing colleagues. I decided to ask my
companion and be done with it. “They never returned to England. They have been gone for a while now” Her lovely eyes became huge and her face the
perfect picture of concern. “Really? Oh my! I was quite fond of the tall dark
one.” I took it she meant Kelly. The conversation was stirred towards brighter
topics, most of which I cannot remember. Now that I write this I can remember
my escorts to the temple who’d told me they’d never left the temple. And yet
the queen claimed they’d left. There is something sinister here and I am
determined to find out what it is. I think now of dear Jane and as my eyelids
droop I hope she is holding up well at home. How I long to see her gentle face
and hear her happy laughter. But alas, we can’t have it all. I shall get to
work tomorrow and hope to finish soon enough so I can be home with my darling
Jane.
August
4th: Yesterday passed without
incidence. There is something terribly sluggish about this place that saps your
energy. I had to look to my work to get mentally stimulated. The servants of
the temple (female, of course) were very helpful, informing me about the history
of their great land. Enthralling stories that I’d never heard before were
recorded in my little handbook. It was with a full head and weary spirits that
I retired. Today I awoke to an azure sky and a blistering
yellow sun. After bathing I awaited breakfast, looking for something to pass
the time. On a little desk by my bed were papers littered with my writings and
flitting through them, I came across a jewel that caught my attention. It was a
wooden amulet, smooth to the touch and carved in the shape of a diamond. In its
middle was a flat, amber jewel that caught the sunlight. I wasn’t sure if it
was an actual diamond but it certainly looked like it. How had I forgotten
about it? This was the amulet Abdullah had given me when he’d bid me his
strange farewell. Holding it up to the sun, I saw the same symbols intricately
carved all round the outer edges of the wooden area. Squinting, I made out…a double-cross,
simply. It was a drawing or carving of two crosses, one drawn on top of the
other so that they joined in the middle. I made a mental note to ask anyone I
could about it. Just then, there was a knock on the door. At my request, a
woman entered with a plate of what I assumed was my breakfast. She wasn’t like
the others who had attended to me before. Her hair was of a brown color cropped
short to her head and was clothed in a plain flowing white gown. I knew her to
be a servant as this was their mode of dressing. Servants who stayed in the temple
of their own accord doing menial jobs, forever a class lower that the queen’s several
maids. She kept my food on the table and gave me a timid curtsey, keeping her
eyes to the ground. The servants of the temple had kept me company the past
days, passionately telling me of their culture so I beckoned her close, seeking
to inquire about the amulet. Her eyes widened when I showed it to her and she
looked around her as if she feared we were being watched. I reassured her that
we were very much alone and she need not fear. “That is the jewel of the Danamans!” she said in
a whisper. “The Danamans? Yes, I’ve heard of them. The
original occupants of Egypt, aborigines if you like. But what has this,” I held
up the amulet. “Got to do with them?” “It has everything to do with them, Mr. Hines,”
she said, stressing ‘everything’. When the nomadic people of Gomar entered
Egypt they brought with them Sphina�"” “Sphina?” I interjected, frowning. “Wasn’t she
the builder of this temple?” “No sir,” she said, somewhat sharply. “The
temple of Askar was built by the Danamans. It was formerly their place of
worship to their gods. You must let me finish the story sir, without any
interruption.” At my nod, she continued. “When the nomads of Gomar entered
Egypt, they saw that the land was fertile so they decided to make it their
permanent home. But they were met with resistance in the form of the originals,
the Danamans.” With bright eyes, she spoke with so much passion that commanded
my attention. “Amongst the Gomars was Sphina, a Lamia, a hellish creature that
had the ability to hypnotize the strongest of men and toy with their spirits. In
her human form, she possesses such beauty that makes any man do her bidding.
She captured the heart of the leader of the nomadic tribe and willed him to
kill every last one of the Danamans. Some of the doomed escaped but majority of
them died under the sword of the Gomars. “Sphina had gotten everything she wanted. With
no one to guard the temple, she set out to occupy it. But she was met with the
resistance of the Danaman priest of the temple. Foreseeing his death, he’d carved
an amulet much like yours, an amulet that is said to have the power to defeat
the Lamia. He passed it on to his son and so it has been passed on for
generations. Sphina murdered him, but he died with the hope that he’d created a
weapon that could defeat her in time to come. But, I am curious. How did you
come by the amulet?” I’d been so engrossed in her story and the thoughts
it provoked that I was hardly aware when she’d finished. As a historian, I was
very familiar with the defeat of the Danamans by the Gomars but the story of
the Lamia added a heady twist. Of that
I’d never heard before. “I inherited it from…a friend,” I said when she’d
repeated her question. “But going by your story I do not think he would part
with something so precious. I am just a stranger after all.” “You do not believe me, Mr. Hines? I see from
your face that you do not. If the others had had such a weapon as you do in
your hands Mr. Hines, I think they might have had a chance at survival.” “The others? Forgive me I�"” “A festival is held annually. Each year a male
is killed. On this one night, the male soul she feasts on replenishes her
spirit and soul keeping her alive for at least another year.” “My God! Why, this is surely too much! You don’t
mean to tell me that you actually believe
this.” I suddenly wished I hadn’t brought up the topic of the amulet.
Lamias? It was just like those vampyre stories that continue to make their
rounds in London! “Why, it’s almost as if you are insinuating that my
colleagues were murdered by this…this…Lamia. I find that very hard to
believe�"sorry, your name?” She’d resumed her former demeanor of staring at
the floor. “Yasmin.” “Yasmin?” Recollections of a tanned old man with
scanty white hair and shiny, warning eyes came to me. “You are friends with
Syed then? The stableman?” “He is my uncle,” she said, her gaze still
pinned to the ground. I began to pace the floorboards of my room, a
habit I did when I was nervous or thinking furiously. In this case, it was the
latter. A sudden idea struck me, and I paused, turning to my companion. “Your
uncle, Syed? He said ‘she’ will drain me of all that makes me a man. I assume
he meant Sphina. The war between the Danamans and the Gomars occurred centuries
ago, that I know. Now, you say Sphina…the Lamia…whoever, will kill me. How is
that possible? I suspect Sphina’s corpse would have turned to dust by now, no
matter how much supernatural power you claim she may have.” She looked at me then, a look of utter pity and
when she spoke, it was with a low tone. “Queen Leilah is Sphina, Mr. Hines. They’re one and the same. She has gone by
many names. Sphina, Eva, Jezbeel, Leilah. It is of her opinion that a new
ritual is a rebirth which requires a new name. I’m sorry. I-I…it’s in two days,
Mr. Hines, the Blood Festival. I�"” She suddenly let out a shriek, color
flooding her cheeks. A finger pointed shakily at the open window and I gasped
when I saw the subject of her fright. Slithering over the windowsill was a
foot-long cobra with wicked slits for eyes and a mean, red tongue. “It’s heard us. It’s coming for me…” I vaguely heard
Yasmin say. I was stunned; my feet were roots in the ground. My companion burst
into action, running to the bed and grabbing something. I shouted a warning as
the snake lunged, only just missing the spot where Yasmin had been by the
tiniest of inches. She shifted away towards me, holding out the encrusted jewel
that was my amulet in her right hand as if it were a beacon of light in the
dark. The Cobra had landed on the bed after its unsuccessful strike and it
hissed menacingly at Yasmin, but made no move towards us. “Mr. Hines, quick! Do you have a weapon?
Anything…we haven’t much time.” I heard Yasmin speak and I willed myself to
move, to get over the initial shock of seeing a mighty cobra in my room being
repelled by an amulet. I thank God for Yasmin’s incessant urging, for I snapped
out of my shock soon enough and scampered past the serpent to the bathroom in
search of a weapon, my footsteps sounding heavy on the floorboards. It is rather amusing that it was the first
place I thought to look when faced with mortal danger but I remembered a dagger
I’d seen there once. I had thought to ask about it but it had continuously
escaped my mind. It still lay in its usual position and grabbing it by the
hilt, I ran back into the room, heart in mouth. The Cobra, its back to me, was
still being warded off by Yasmin’s brandished amulet so I took a similar stance
and approached the monster, not fully knowing what I intended to do when I reached
it. I swiftly plunged the weapon into its surprisingly hard back; again and
again without ceasing. It gave a screech and began writhing on the ground,
blood oozing from its wounds. And then, it began to change form before my very
eyes! Its tail was replaced by feet and dainty legs and where there’d been
scaly neck there was now a head and messy curls. The still form of a female with
multiple stab wounds greeted my eyes, sending me into renewed bouts of shock. “She’s…she’s one of the queen’s maids. Where did
you get the dagger?” Her words were greeted with silence and I wondered how she
could speak after such an encounter. Then she said, “Look, it has the initials
‘J.K’ on its hilt.” I made no move to show that I’d heard her words but instinctively
knew what the letters stood for: John Kelly. Only God knew what fate had
befallen my colleague. “Thank you, Yasmin,” I croaked. “That- that will
be all.” The soft sound of the door closing signified the
exit of the girl. I was well and truly alone, safe for a dead body at my feet. Later:
The sun was beginning to set, bringing with it the crimson tinge of twilight
which illumined all my perplexity, dread and isolation. I wondered and marveled
at the wickedness of humanity; of all the atrocities committed under the blanket
of darkness and, worse, under the open glare of the sun. My mind conjured up
images of monstrous serpents with their twisted tongues and murderous venoms;
of a beautiful queen whose seeming innocence and composed courtesy belied her
thirst for blood. Of a pregnant wife back home who would probably birth a
fatherless child. With everything that I’d witnessed, I desired to be alone, to
allow my thoughts free will to swim around in my head. But my need for
loneliness was outweighed by my dire need for survival and I speedily began to
gather all my belongings no matter how little they were. In my haste I knocked
down a few of my untouched breakfast things. Yasmin- God bless her, she’s been
so helpful! - she’d brought a few of her servant friends and together, they’d
disposed of the body, assuring me that a soul would not be told. I considered
writing the Institute of Anthropology and Archeology to warn them of my
impending danger but I doubted they would believe. Though this journal would by
no means be more of a proof, I intend to leave it in a hiding place and tell
only Yasmin of it. At least Jane would have some kind of idea-no matter how
farfetched it may seem- of my undoing (if it led to that). My travelling bag
(with the amulet safely tucked in a hidden opening) firmly in my hand, I shall
seek my freedom tonight. August
5th: I don’t know what to do. I feel I am
going insane! With all that happened yesterday, I am convinced, thoroughly convinced,
that supernatural forces- things that beggar belief and formerly thought to
exist only in the world of literature- those things do exist in life and have
come to fruition in my life! Last night, assured as I was that I was going to
do whatever in my power to get out of this inferno, I set off. The temple at
night was serene, much so that I could hardly believe it could house such evil.
Oil lamps- tall wooden things with a spherical top that protected the fires-
adorned each corridor I entered. I walked swiftly but silently so that my feet
barely made noise on the marble floors. I tried every door as I passed and
wasn’t surprised that they were locked. I soon reached the lone pillar that
signified the beginning of the long walk to the entrance gate. The glare of the
moon came at full force now, and I realized I no longer had the blanket of the
pillars to protect me. Would I ever again see the moon in London? I willed my
feet to move, a step at a time, but they were like bricks, heavy to lift and
exerting energy when put down. The chirping of the crickets was much louder
here and I shivered as a cool breeze blew, lifting green leaves off the
pavement. Not long to the gate now… Images of a laughing beauty clouded my thoughts;
an ebony-haired woman with dark pebbles for eyes. Flashes of a dance I’d been
mesmerized by entered my head and my legs acted of their own accord, turning
and heading back the way I’d come. Back to the Temple of Askar. I gritted my
teeth and stood my ground, trying, to no avail, to dig my feet in the concrete
ground of the courtyard. An exotic melody, rife with low drums and
accompaniments of trombone began to waft towards me, and my resolve to leave
began to weaken, my head a cloudy clutter. My feet began seeking the music,
moving towards it; I was like a thoughtless zombie! Soon afterwards (and I
don’t remember how long exactly it took) I found myself in the venue I’d supped
with the queen. I staggered to a door at the far end I hadn’t noticed before,
pushing it open to reveal a room, severely dim. My travelling bag fell to the
floor with a dull thud. A high window
at the right end let in some moonlight that bathed the room in a silver hue.
Well, here was a room that reeked of mystery! Most of the moonlight shone in
the middle of the room, like a giant spotlight and I spied a bathtub the shape
of a circle but big enough for more than three persons. Crystal clear water
spilled over the top, drenching my shoes and the tip of my trouser legs. I
walked on however, for it was not the sight of the massive bath that thrilled
me, but of the lady that stood in it that startled me. My instincts warned me to
go no further. Somewhere in my head even, I was aware that this was danger;
that I was to run and never look back. But I was pinned by the acute gaze of my
observer and didn’t even flinch as I entered the ice-cold water. Her skin had
taken a translucent look, how much of it was due to the light of the moon I did
not know. Queen Leilah smiled, a smile that sent a shiver down my spine and
made me think of bats and witches and secluded graveyards. Yet I stood fixated
and didn’t even bat an eyelid when a large python, its skin the color of jade,
began encircling her nude body, starting from her ankles. She looked at me
whilst she caressed the enormous serpent and said in a voice that made me think
of chiming bells, “You are just like the rest, my dear Englishman. Easy prey.” Was this what it meant to be like a moth drawn
to a flame? Here I was, staring danger in the face and yet my heartbeat
quickened at the sight of her. To write this now, to rethink the ordeal of last
night, I am filled with a tremendous, overwhelming repulsion. It was like a
dream and yet, even then, I knew it was real. I could utter nothing, the
chilling sound of music more hypnotic than anything I’d ever heard. And yet it must have been a dream for I later found
myself in my bed, the blinding morning sun pouring in through the window. I had
failed to escape. Glancing around, I saw that the clutch of my bag
was undone and the contents spilled onto the bed. My heart was filled with terror
as I frantically searched and found- nothing! All my month’s work- gone!
Flustered though I was about that fact, it was a consolation to find that the
amulet was intact. I feel like a deer caught in the headlights.
Like a sheep waiting patiently to be slaughtered. Only I am not patient! It is
the morning of the last day of my life.
August
6th, 10:33 One of the girls just left with my breakfast
things. It is a wonder that I was able to eat at all. I would’ve thought the
fear in my heart would have been able to quench the hunger in my stomach, but
no. I ate like a sheep being fattened up for its day of slaughter. Oh no! What
to do? What to do? I must reach Syed. He foretold all of this after all. If
only there was a way to get hold of Yasmin now… 12:04:
I am in luck for once since I arrived
this…this…dungeon. The better part of the last hour was spent by me trying to
write an understandable note to Syed and Yasmin just came to inquire about my
health. I was a bag of nerves and in a state of panic and she seemed to me to
understand my plight. I gave her the note to give to her uncle, and bade her
return as soon as possible for my life depended on the reply I would get. She was back within ten minutes and handed me
the same note I’d given her. I pounced on it with alarming speed, almost
tearing the paper. I struggled to read through his hurried scrawl but just made
this out: my friend, you ask for a way to
escape. That I cannot help you with. The place where you are now, nobody can
leave without the consent of the queen. I am sorry. But Yasmin tells me you
have the ancient amulet of the Danamans? Use it to your advantage, my friend.
You have been given a most powerful gift. I wonder how your friend was able to
part with such power. “He offers no help, whatsoever!” Yasmin took a
cautious step at my sudden outburst. “Oh, what the deuce possessed me to leave
London? Why didn’t I just stay put? Am I doomed to face this kind of end? What
happens to my Jane now?” “Mr. Hines…?” I saw Yasmin approached where I
sat, warily placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. When she spoke, her voice
took a relaxing but firm tone. “I can help you. My uncle, he actually suggested
this but insisted I told you myself.” Her chest heaved as she sighed but she
continued. “The reason we- I and the other slaves choose to remain here and
stay subservient to the queen and her maids is because we dream of a day
when…when,” she faltered, her hesitation managing to catch my attention. I
beheld her, willing her to continue. Her eyes seemed like there were laden with
some kind of weight but she thrust out her arm. “Look at my wrist, Mr. Hines.”
There was no real need to squint but owing to the persistence in her voice, I
did so anyway and, embedded in her flesh, was the slight drawing of a tiny
cross beneath another cross- the same symbol as that on my amulet. I looked up
at her, and needless to say, my mouth hung open. “You are a Danaman?” She gave a rigid nod. It wasn’t so much that she
was a Danaman that quickened my pulse (though very surprising, it is possible
that there are a few of them alive today, after all, not all were killed the
night Sphina took over) but the fact that I finally saw a light, however dim,
at the end of the tunnel. “How have you evaded the queen for so long?
Surely she would have noticed if―” “She has turned a blind eye. She knows who we
are but recognizes we pose no threat to her now nor in the near future due to
the power she has so she allows us to work as slaves. I doubt she is even aware
of the existence of the amulet, or chooses to disbelieve. It was mere legend ‘til you brought it
here.” I rose from my perch on the bed, and with eyes
wide open, implored her to help me in any way she could get through tonight
alive. “We, the Danamans are willing to help you, Mr.
Hines. My uncle had this idea, you may take it or choose to forgo it. We
already know there is no escape so you go to the Blood Festival tonight.” “Wha―” “Please hear me out, Mr. Hines. You go to the
festival with the amulet somewhere on your person. An amulet isn’t called an
amulet for nothing, no? It is a charm. The priest that fashioned the charm
meant for it to destroy Sphina and destroy it will, hopefully. I see no other
way around it, Mr. Hines.” “Very well, then.” My voice had lost any of its
hopeful tone and my face became deadpan. I questioned the power of my likely
savior, the amulet, on which my life depended. But had I not also questioned
the existence of the Lamia? Had not that turned out to be true? Who knew all
the secrets the world held, and who can prove to know all that there is to be
known under the sun? I came to Egypt oblivious and impervious to things of
fantasy such as the Lamia, and now, am I to fall prey to one? What will become
of me?
EXCERPT
FROM THE LONDON GAZETTE, August 12th 1892 It is with the heaviest of hearts that we
confirm that Edward Hines, junior archeologist at the renowned Institute of
Archeology and Anthropology, has been declared missing. Mr. Edward Hines had been dispatched to the
country of Egypt on an assignment and did, in fact, send a letter to his
superiors at the Institute, stating his arrival in his host country. He hasn’t
been heard from since then. Mr. Hines, who ought to have returned from his
duties, is the third in a line of missing archeologists sent to Egypt, the
first being Samuel Briggs, 43 and John Kelly, 46. They have not been seen or
heard from for nearly a year.
YASMIN’S
DIARY, August 7th I have decided to follow Mr. Hines’ footsteps
and keep a journal. It will also help with my English. Ah, poor Mr. Hines. What an ordeal these last few
days must have been for him! He seemed…shaken after I’d told him of my uncle’s
plan but managed to give a somber nod. I left him then, needing to make other
plans. I went down a flight of stairs, right down to the vaults where most of
the slaves held sway. “Sisters, please, listen.” The flurry of
activity that had mere moments ago characterized the cellar died down, and so
my voice could be head. I explained to them the situation at hand, that the
Englishman was to be sacrificed in mere hours, and that we were to help put a
stop to that. “And how do you suggest we take down Sphina?”
Aisha, one of the more elderly women, said. “We have no power. We are
descendants of the Danamans and yet we have nothing! We are condemned to
slavery, and slaves we shall remain or risk the wrath of the Lamia.” Murmurs of
agreement began to echo throughout the cellar, and I realized I only had a few
minutes before I lost their interest altogether. “No! Tante
Aisha. With all due respect, you were right only about one thing- that we are
indeed Danamans. The rest, as Mr. Hines would say, is poppycock. Nonsense,” I
added when it was clear they didn’t understand. Aisha was a woman respected amongst us for her
wisdom, but as she walked towards me, deep dark eyes squinting, I stood my
ground. When she spoke, her voice was hard and challenging. “Tell us, young
one, how we help your dear Englishman. How we get past the Lamia. We have
nothing. Nothing!” The voices of some forty-something women could be heard,
many of them echoing Aisha’s words. I looked away from her then, making sure my
next words would be heard above the rest. “We have the Amulet of Priest Amar.” *** It was
11:30pm- some thirty minutes until the festival. The vault was as quiet as a graveyard;
nobody had said a word since we’d agreed to help Mr. Hines. I think most people
felt they might not live to see the sunrise tomorrow. I certainly did at the
time. It hadn’t been too hard convincing everyone once they knew about the
actual existence of the amulet. Aisha had been stunned to silence. After much
discussion, we’d made plans. I hurried to the gate where I was able to pass a
message to Uncle Syed. And so we waited. By 11:45, four of the queen’s maids approached
the courtyard. Mr. Hines had been stripped to his bare minimums, his underwear
the only thing protecting his modesty. I wondered where he had hidden the
amulet. His hands were tied but he walked with an air of determination. Where
his colleagues had yelled and struggled and pleaded, he kept a high head and a
calm disposition. He was led to temple proper, which was reserved for
sacrifices and worship. A high altar had been set up, and all of Sphina’s maids
surrounded it. From where I watched, I could see Mr. Hines being tied up to the
altar, and sensed the excitement of the maids. The smell of burning incense
drifted through the cool midnight air. There was an abrupt hush amongst the maids, and
I soon saw why. The queen, clothed in a flowing gown with slits down the sides,
descended the steps that led to the altar. “Oh, Edward,” she said, looking down at her prey
as she patted his fair hair, making it look even more tousled. “It’s a shame,
really. You were my favorite.” She smiled then, pale lips parting to reveal
uneven jagged teeth with spiky edges. Even from where I stood, I could see her pupils
constrict into narrow slits the colour of coal. She began to tremble, little tremors
at first then rapidly, like a high jolt of electricity passed through her. Her
hips began to contract and she gasped in what I presume was pain as scaly skin replaced
human flesh. Her shapely legs were gone, and I saw a giant tail the colour of
copper. She signaled to one of her helpers who stood before her with a golden
platter. Reaching out, she picked up a mean-looking knife that caught the gleam
of the moonlight. I inhaled sharply. This part I did not like. “Sisters,” she cried, lifting the weapon for all
to see. “Tonight marks a new era, a new dawn. Behold our sacrifice, who so
graciously gives his life to such a cause. He shall be paid generously in the
Afterlife. For Hani, goddess of the moon!” Mr. Hines mask of tranquility had
finally worn off, and he struggled against the binds that held him. Queen
Leilah glided towards, half-human, half-serpent. She held his wrist in a
vice-like grip and proceeded and I winced as the skin of his forearm was
slashed, drops of blood falling onto the altar. The victim cried out in pain.
“And now, for us…” Her lips drew back, like a wolf’s when it spots its prey.
She took a deep breath and smiled, anticipating the kill. The air suddenly felt
hotter. I gasped as Queen Leilah thrust her head forwards. Mr. Hines stopped
struggling, his legs going limp. The excitement in the temple was almost palpable.
I waited. And waited. “Nothing’s happening!” I had forgotten two of my
fellow slaves were beside me. The Queen’s head came into view, her mouth
stained red. “Come now,” she beckoned at her maids, “there
should be enough to go round. And when―” her hands flew to her throat and she
began to retch. Her maids rushed to their queen, in a bid to console her. “What
sorcery is this?” I heard her exclaim in between fits of coughs. It was the
perfect time to execute our plan. I came out of my hiding place, as did every
slave. Most of them hurried towards the temple but I and my two companions,
Miriam and Sarai, took a different route- to release Mr. Hines. We soon found
the door through which Sphina must have gone through, an entrance reserved only
for her. I opened the door a crack to
survey the situation in the temple. The queen, still clutching her throat, had
her back to us which meant that we could approach the altar without her
knowledge but would also mean risking discovery from her maids that faced her.
We needed some sort of distraction. Right on cue the main oaken doors to the temple
shut and we took advantage of their momentary lapse in concentration. I grabbed
the bloodied knife that lay on the altar and severed the ropes that bound Mr.
Hines. He seemed to be unconscious. A hiss was uttered somewhere among the
maids. I continued my frantic search. If he wasn’t wearing anything above his
waist, then it must be somewhere below… “How dare you come into the Holy Temple?” one of
the maids asked. My hands closed around the wooden part of the ancient charm
just as something slammed into me, knocking the air from my lungs. I landed
roughly, my right arm breaking my fall. Sarai and Miriam had begun dragging Mr.
Hines towards the only unlocked exit. I was pulled off and met face-to-face
with Sphina. Vicious-looking veins trailed from her collarbone to her chin and
even as I watched, bright-green tendrils snaked their way to her cheeks,
branching off in various directions. She looked like she had aged some twenty years.
I shudder now to remember it. Like an anaconda would do to its prey so she
wrapped her broad tail around my middle and I feared for my life as it curled
round, tighter and tighter ‘til it became hard to breathe. “What is happening to me? Was it his blood? Why
does this happen? Tell me!” she screamed when her questions were met with
silence. “Because…because…” How she expected me to say
anything sensible when she’d cut off the air to my lungs was beyond me. “Yes?” she prompted. “Because of this” I brought down the amulet hard
and the air was filled with the acrid smell of searing flesh where it had
touched her. The queen launched into a series of earsplitting screams and for
the second time that night, I hit the ground with a dull thud. Her maids could
do nothing but watch as their mistress twisted this way and that, her large
tail thrashing everything in its path. An oil lamp was knocked down and the
curtain next to it ignited. I rushed towards the exit, struggling to see
through the thick smoke that had already gathered. On my way out I shoved
another lamp, smiling with satisfaction and it added to the already ablaze
temple. Miriam and Sarai waited on the other side of the door and I made sure
that Mr. Hines was safely out too. Then I locked the door. The Lamia queen and
her cohorts would surely perish in the inferno. *** It was until later today that Mr. Hines opened
his eyes, some six hours after the failed sacrifice. He took a long, hard look
at his surroundings and with a weak voice asked where he was. I replied that he
was in Syed’s house and that we had to move him here because we still could not
take up residence in the temple after the fire. “Syed…temple…fire” He sat up suddenly, then
regretted it and lay back down, holding a bandaged hand to his forehead. “The pain will subside soon, Mr. Hines. Just
relax, please” I said. “What…what happened? She bit me.” “Yes, Mr. Hines. We saw.” His fingers trailed to
his neck where I was sure he would feel the dents in his flesh. “It will heal
in no time.” He slowly sat up, using his arms to support his
weight. He surveyed his surroundings again, this time completely wide awake.
“Where is Syed?” “He went to the temple to make sure the queen
was truly dead. Although I’m sure she is. You should have heard their screams.
I imagine that’s what hell must be like. The amulet did wonders to her. She―” “The amulet? It’s safe?” “Yes, Mr. Hines” He
sighed. “Thank you, Yasmin. For a while I thought I was…” “No. Thank you,
Mr. Hines. You brought us the amulet. The queen wouldn’t be dead if it wasn’t
for you.” He smiled. “Well, I suppose it could’ve been a
lot worse.” “You are indeed lucky. You would have been a
gone man if she had fornicated with you.” “I’m sorry?” “Well, it is a well-known fact in these parts
that Lamias have to have intercourse with their prey a few days before they eat
them.” “Oh. Well it’s a good thing that didn’t happen
to me. Just out of curiosity what would happen her prey didn’t die like she
intended?” “They become like her. Male Lamias, only they’re
called Incubi.” Mr. Hines’ eyes glazed over, like the thought of male lamias
were horrific (which in fact they are). Then he smiled. “Well, I suppose I am
indeed lucky.” He informed me of his plans to leave for London
tomorrow. I was a little surprised by how quick he intended to leave, but I
suppose after everything he’s encountered here, he must be itching to be home.
I was glad he was alive. Syed and other men plan to rebuild the temple. I am
glad. THE END © 2013 RIOAuthor's Note
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RIOAbuja, FCT, NigeriaAboutI like to read and write. Now try saying that to someone when they ask what you do for 'fun' :p more..Writing
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