The Tragic End of King Tutt

A Story by Allison Lyndel

I did this about three years ago for my sisters project. I hope you enjoy. I will continue to write MUCH better stories but this is a worth while read :) Plus its shot READ ON ITS SHORT!

The Mysterious and Tragic End to King Tut

King Tut coughed slightly as he laid his head back down on his pillow. He could feel himself withering away, as his body became cold and his body numb. He was struggling against a painstaking cough and a constant drowsiness which haunted him every waking hour and into the night. His body has been sick for some time now but he refused to give up hope. He couldn’t leave his lovely wife Ankhessenpaaten. He looked up at his wife that had just walked in through the doorway. Oh, how her jewelry sparkled, her hair glistened, and her beauty shine! Her beauty was in comparison to no other and his love for her was as full the midnight sky. He knew that he could never leave her with the heavy burden of his death and position. Without him, what would happen to Egypt?

He coughed slightly as he tried to sit up. She asked worriedly, “Husband, are you alright today?”

King Tut smiled rather weakly and said lying, “Yes Ankhesenpaaten, I am feeling much better today.” He refused to allow himself to accept that he was getting worse, feeling that if he did, it would only make his beautiful wife more depressed and worried. The loud coughs, however, that followed his remark were not convincing.

“My husband, you are sick. Might I call upon the doctor to see you again?” She asked showing her concern through her worried expression.

“Ankhessenpaaten I feel fine…, but perhaps it would be best for you to send for him. Perhaps that will put ease to your mind.”

His wife nodded, turned, and left swiftly in search of the doctor. He watched as she hurried out the door and let out a few more coughs after which, he slowly laid his head back down onto his pillow. Some minutes later she returned with a whole team of doctors. King Tut smiled and looked up at his wife followed by the familiar faces.

The doctors proceeded in the regular checkup by checking his throat, checking his breathing, and so on. While shuffling through his tools the main doctor asked, “Has your condition seemed to worsen in the last couple days my Pharaoh?”

King Tut opened up his mouth to give a response but instead of words coming out, a huge cough took the place of his words and he keeled over in pain. The doctor nodded. “Hmmm, I see.”

When he mustered up the strength, King Tut said in a hoarse whisper, “It is this never ending cough that only seems to just get worse as time goes by.

A slightly smaller man to the left of the main doctor, who most likely was his scribe or apprentice, began to quickly write down notes on pieces of papyrus sown into a nice, organized booklet. After a few more questions, the doctors left saying they would be back soon after they collaborated together for the cause of his illness.

King Tut’s wife slid her hand into his and looked into his eyes saying more to convince herself than him “I am sure everything will be alright.”

After some time, the team of doctors returned and slowly filed back into the pharaoh’s bedroom. The doctors were silent, looking downtrodden as they simply stared down at the pharaoh lying weakly in his bed. The same main doctor who had been asking most of the questions previously finally was the one to break the silence. “King Tut, I believe I have some” he paused just before finishing his sentence as if it was unbearable to manipulate his mouth in order to form the words, “ bad news.” King Tut looked up at the doctors with sincere confusion. The doctor sighed, “We can see nothing more than a common cough from our examinations, but it seems that something else, something worse is going on. We have some ideas, but we will need the rest of the evening to collaborate and figure out the best treatment for your condition.”

King Tut nodded while looking down at his sheets. After a small cough he said in a melancholy voice, “Thank you for coming in.” The doctors nodded back at their pharaoh and without another word, filed out in an orderly fashion just as they had entered.

The next morning the doctors returned to find King Tut had died peacefully in his sleep. He had not made it through the night for them to propose their remedy to his strange illness. Aye, the pharaoh’s visor, a few minutes after the doctors confirmed his death, oversaw the preparations for his funeral.

The people of Egypt had just finished a glorious pyramid for their pharaoh’s final resting place, but did not wish for his grand funeral to be as soon as it was. His pyramid was a wonder to behold, far exceeding the great pyramids of the pharaohs that preceded him. The door to the pyramid was opened and the visor supervised the men who lifted his corpse up to be placed into the sarcophagus. While doing so, the man holding the pharaoh’s head tripped over his own feet, releasing his hold, and hit the pharaoh’s head on the side of his golden casket. Aye’s jaw dropped and awestricken, stared down at the fallen mummified pharaoh. He spoke harshly to the man that had dropped his head and said “How could you be so carless as to drop our beloved pharaoh! Is this not the greatest dishonor in all of Egypt?” Two robust soldiers then grabbed the arms of the man and dragged him away as he cried out in anguish.

Proceeding as if nothing happened to not cause a commotion and more pain to his family and close relations, they lowered King Tut’s body into his sarcophagus and sealed up the pyramid. No record was ever recorded and no evidence was ever left for wanting to forget the whole tragic incident. The only indication of the event ever occurring was the huge gash left from the accident on the back of the pharaoh’s head.