Mr Montford had cleared his desk of all the papers and other clutter by the time they got back. The top was now covered by a white sheet and illuminated by a strong lamp. Without specialist equipment it was the best he could do and, thankfully, his past tutors had taught him how to improvise when the need arose.
A half empty water bottle sat nearby by. He had been losing so much fluid by sweating it was well needed.
"Ah, good timing!" He beamed as the pair entered "Ash, you can hold the cloth steady and Isaac, you fetch the statue. I can take the scraping and send it off post haste, then we will have some answers, I hope! Until then it can be kept safe it
storage, I won't display it until we have more information, misleading the public leads to the wrong sort of publicity."
Ash moved over the smooth out the creases, his hands shaking his excitement and nerves as Isaac went to take the figure from the box.
As he leaned over, he felt a warmth at his neck and his heart trembled. A feeling of nausea washed over him as his picked the statue from the bed of shavings. His palms were damp and his throat tight as he turned to carry it over.
His eyes took in the figure that seemed to warm in his hands as if it were made of flesh and blood and his heart lurched, his head fogging for a moment with blurred imagery of worlds long gone. He tensed, trying to stop his hands shaking as he slowed his step, feeling the nervous sweat burning more.
As he made his way across the room, he did the exact thing he had not long joked about his employer doing. His foot snagging a pile of books left on the floor, and before he could right himself, he was tumbling over, everything moving in painfully slow motion. Dark ochre eyes watched in horror as the statue flew from his hand halfway across the room. Smashing into two pieces by his desk.
A priceless new discovery was now in pieces on the floor. Isaac stuttered for a moment, staring in disbelief.
Ash's mouth dropped open, his shoulders slumping. All joking aside this particular piece and any of such age could not be mended.
"You just broke..."
He didn't finish. Feeling his eyes widening as dark fluid began to seep from the sharp pieces.
"What's...going on?" His voice was barely a whisper as he watched transfixed as the crimson liquid flowed, a dark mist following close behind and seemingly without end.
All sense urged him to flee but his feet felt frozen to the spot in fearful awe. Looking to Isaac he was in the same predicament, his hands shaking and face pale.
The black mist was thick, clouding his vision and felt as if it clouded his mind also.
'Even a man who is pure of heart and says prayers by night will find himself condemned to the grave whether or not the time is right. That time is nigh...'
The voice echoed about them, bouncing from wall the wall and sending waves of freezing terror throughout body and soul.
Isaac felt his legs almost buckle as the mist slowly cleared revealing a figure in its place.
The man, if he could be called that, was the image of the statue that lay in pieces on the floor. A muscular, chiselled body and face concealed by the mask of a canine. His arms were folded as he regarded those before him but lengthy claws protruded from where nails should be.
"Bow down mortals!" The creature commanded in a strong and forceful tone, his eyes cold and calculating "and perhaps you will keep your bodies intact!"
Outside there was a loud clap of thunder, hard enough to make the entire building shake. A heavy rain began to fall down with a force that no one had seen before and a force that could cause damage and injury when it struck.
It was no normal rain. It couldn't be, Isaac had never known rain to be red.
Mr Montford's entire body froze in horror at the condemning words and his Adam's apple bobbed as he choked on his own bile that had risen into his throat.His bewildered eyes took in the figure, roving over the curious mask, powerful muscles, and claw-tipped fingers. This was the exact image of the statue, somehow live and full-size in front of them.A spark of determination flickered across his eyes as they were commanded to kneel, and for a brief moment he met the terrifyingly-cold gaze of the creature. His heart skipped a beat at the pure malice he saw there, freezing him on the spot.Isaac unconsciously stepped closer to Ash whose pale face had become a waxen death mask, stealthily resting his hand on his upper arm in an effort to give some reassurance as another wave of natural fury rocked the sky.In the back of his mind a voice hissed. But like the leaves in autumn, it was a faraway cry. Audible but unable
Isaac materialised in an empty room. To the untrained eye it resembled an empty tomb but one slab in the floor was clear, providing a mirror to the earth.The hand opened and he was dropped into an unceremonious heap on the floor and looked at me with cold eyes."This is the world between worlds. Neither life nor death. It is where those with the darkest intents can reside without bowing to any.""Will you at least tell me who you are?" He grumbled as he struggled to sit on his haunches, deciding against standing even though the floor was freezing. "Surely you have honour enough to do that?""I am Am-Heh, Ish...mortal," he seemed to stumble for a moment before gathering himself. "That is all you need know at this time."He wandered across to the clear tile in the floor. From the invisible vantage point Am-Heh could watch the world below him. And the chaos that ensured. He turned
Atum had been inactive for so many years he had almost forgotten the power he once wielded. But he still held his authority, his knowledge.Sat in the modern penthouse he had been reading the paper, realising after a while it was the previous weeks.But something felt wrong. Something he couldn't place.As soon as he switched the radio on and the static finally cleared, he shuddered. Red rain. Surely the prison had not been broken, not yet? But if it had..."I must find others," he muttered "one way or another this must end for good."He did not wish ill on any of his creations, his children, each of whom he held dear to his heart. All the same he felt an obligation to the children of the other Gods, the humans and those species that the former thought only as myths.They had little contact with one another, save for the odd interaction over important issues, but a mutual respect bound them tog
Marie Westley had been a charwoman in the museum for years. A squat woman with a bust that seemed to strain out of even the largest blouse she was a common sight at all hours. Both staff and visitors alike were always offered a greeting and a sparkling smile.She was handsome in her own way, keeping a neat appearance, her nut-brown hair always tied without a strand out of place and her hazel eyes always shimmering even if given the most taxing job.Professional pride went a long way in her family, whatever the task and whatever the employment.Of Jamaican descent her dream was eventually to become a teacher, her grades had well excelled the needed scores to qualify but they cost.People had told her she could do more, that was wasting her knowledge for a job that didn't pay as well as others but the fact was, apart from children, she loved cleaning and helping the elderly who couldn't do it themselves.
"What are you doing now?"Isaac's voice was cracked from lack of fluid, something he was hoping the God would take notice of.Am Heh barely looked over. He was not about to answer, the idea of responding to the mortals’ query felt beneath him but the knowledge that Isaac would most likely continue to question him came to the fore."Hastening my work," he said evasively, seizing a cloak that had appeared from thin air to throw about his shoulders. "You will remain here."The streets below were home only to ghosts and shadows now. The people were cowering in whatever safe haven they could find, whether it be the claustrophobic aisles of a department store or the dark back room of an office. Anywhere was better than the bubbling mire outside.The heat from the burning blood would not affect the deity who once walked in his own volcanic Eden. Nor did it affect the creatures he crafted but it
There was one person who wasn't fearful of the apparent Armageddon.Kyle Mason lived in the upper storey apartment of a grubby townhouse not far from where the river widened after its amble through the park.Much like the exterior the inside was cold and damp, mildew a common occurrence and always appearing grimy no matter how hard one cleaned. There was always a yellow tint to the once white walls and a grey pattern smearing the carpets.Kyle had never complained like other tenants, knowing the response of one got what they paid for and compared to his student digs it was a palace.He rarely seemed clean himself. The clothing that hung on the lanky body held an odour of pond water or ingrained age. The black hair, impeccably gelled and styled, appeared greasy rather than treated and his skin held a perpetual shine.It might well have been circumstance, down to the water that screamed in prote
“Interesting.”Thoth sat back in the wicker chair overlooking the lake beyond the terrace. The crystal waters shimmered like a mirror from amongst the reeds. Along the banks several long beaked birds waded without a care, their beady eyes looking for the tiny fish that inhabited the still waters.The ibis was still the favoured bird in the former God’s heart and he could not have settled anywhere that lacked them. Nor could he have left the glory of equatorial Africa, the sights and sounds of that sun kissed land were his reason for living.In human form he still held some resemblance himself; his features slim and angular, his nose sharp and eyes wise yet placid.Shu twiddled his fingers impatiently as Thoth rocked complacently, eyes gazing into the distance and at events long erased from memory.“Do you think you can help?” He broke the silence wit
Mr Montford winced as the sting from the antiseptic burned the deep wounds. Tears sprung to his eyes but he swiftly blinked them back, offering a shrug to Ash."A bit like garlic, the smell makes the eyes water."The room Marie had taken them back to had been the office of the security officer. The glass front gave an overview of the entrance and the additional monitors, now a haze of silver static, had meant he could observe the rest of the building. The small space reeked of coffee, spilled over the equipment in his haste to flee, and the undertones of sweat and antiperspirant.Ash smiled slightly, shifting uncomfortably. The smell did indeed bring tears to the eyes but the pain in those watery orbs showed it was much more.He didn't comment on it, focusing on the patterns on the monitors that made his head feel strange."Suck it up," Marie elbowed Mr Montford gently as she tossed the soiled