Feature Writer: SanityCheck
Feature Title: THE RED CHAMBER
Published: 23.08.2025
Story Codes: Erotic Horror
Synopsis: An Egyptologist battles a supernatural enemy in a hidden chamber.
The Red Chamber
Doctor Phillip Corvin, PhD, slowly duckwalked through the low and narrow passage, the corbelled walls making the hallway even more cramped. Five of his students waddled along behind, like ducklings following a mother duck, the beams of their head mounted flashlights dancing crazily with their awkward movements.
“Bet you’re glad you’re here, instead of at home with your new wife, huh Doc?” Brian joked from the back of the line.
Phil snickered. “That’s the only place I’d rather be.”
“Well, I’m having second thoughts,” Mark grumbled.
“Afraid of the curse?” Greg asked with a teasing smile.
“No,” Mark replied, drawing the word out long to show his contempt with Greg’s comment. “But I have an idea. Why don’t you come up here and lug part of this heavy bastard and see if you don’t feel your vitality draining away.”
Phil grinned. He was leading a student team on a four-month expedition to the Red Pyramid. He and five students were investigating the location of a possible new burial chamber. During a previous expedition, when Phil and his team were making dimensionally accurate, high-resolution 3D images of the tomb’s halls and rooms, while sweeping the second antechamber one of the students noticed sand trickled through a narrow crack between two stones. They’d been near the end of their expedition, and Phil hadn’t had time to investigate the find because he had to complete the imaging and get back to Rhode Island for his wedding. He’d applied for a new concession immediately after returning to the United States, and now, eight months later, he was back with a new student team.
“Yeah, Greg,” Isack chimed in. “Brian and I have to hump the thing out. What are you doing?”
“I have the camera.”
“Whoop-de-fucking-do,” Sam growled. “How about you carry this, and I carry the camera?”
Phil’s smile widened slightly with his students good-natured bickering. Only thirty-two years old, Phil wasn’t a typical Egyptologist. Though he’d softened a bit since he was a Badger, playing tight end as an undergrad at the University of Wisconsin, he was still tall and well-muscled. Interested in ancient Egypt since a child, he’d read and watched everything he could get his hands on about ancient Egypt, from bad mummy movies, to engineering texts theorizing how the pyramids were constructed, and everything in between. He’d been able to speak ancient Egyptian and read hieroglyphs by the time he started high school, and he knew he’d someday be a real-life Indiana Jones.
“Could be worse… you could be six four,” Phil complained, causing several of the men following him to snicker.
“Maybe. For the first time in my life, I’m glad I’m only five eight,” Brian said, causing Phil to bark out a short laugh.
While working on his PhD at Brown University, Phil made a name for himself in the Egyptology world for his thesis that Snefru’s actual burial chamber was still undiscovered in the Red Pyramid, his theory was based on his translation of the prayers carved inside other rooms in the tomb. Common wisdom stated that the prayers were directed toward Snefru’s resurrection, but Phil had suggested that an alternate interpretation could be that only Snefru’s Ka was in the burial chamber, and his actual body was in another chamber somewhere else inside the pyramid. It was an idea he’d had fifteen years before, when he was learning to read hieroglyphs, and was young, naive, and didn’t know his translation contradicted the accepted meaning. He’d never forgotten his translation, however, and later, when he was older and wiser, he’d revisited the hieroglyphs for his thesis. While he understood the existing translation seemed more logical, he’d laid out all his evidence to support why his translation could be an obscure reference to another chamber in the pyramid, and not the afterlife.
“All I know is, that’d better be a damn door after I’ve humped this heavy bastard all the way in here,” Sam growled.
“You and me both,” Mark agreed.
Phil’s idea had initially been met with extreme skepticism. It had been long assumed that the reason Snefru’s body had never been found was because of tomb robbers, or that the fragments of human remains found in the pyramid in 1950 was Snefru, but more and more Egyptologists were coming around to the idea that it was possible Phil’s translation was correct. Several Pharoah’s had multiple tombs, so the idea wasn’t totally without merit, but never had the burial chambers resided in the same tomb.
If Snefru had another burial chamber, and someone could find it, and it hadn’t been robbed, it could be the find of the century and answer some longstanding questions. Today Phil was going to find out if he was right. He’d hated to leave Cheryl so soon after their marriage, but this could make his career, and he was worried another team might discover what his previous team had. Only two weeks after returning from his honeymoon, he was back in Egypt, resuming where the team had left off seven months earlier.
“If it wasn’t so fu… damn hot, it wouldn’t be so bad,” Sam continued.
“What are you complaining about?” Isack teased. “It’s a hell of a lot cooler in here than outside.”
“Yeah, but it’s not what I’d call cool,” Sam countered.
“Different from summers at home?” Brian asked, his tone mischievous.
“Uh… yeah. I don’t know how people lived here, especially in the summer.”
“You get used to it after a while.” Brian was from Pheonix, Arizona, and he suffered the least from the one hundred plus degree heat, while Sam, being from Nome, Alaska, suffered the most.
“Uh-huh,” Sam grunted. “Maybe if you were born on the surface of the sun.”
A month ago, they’d returned to the second antechamber and had carefully opened an entrance into the small, previously undiscovered room. Going slowly, and documenting everything, they’d explored the room, along with the low and narrow corridor that extended downward from it. There were no carvings or paintings decorating the walls, except for a single warning carved into the wall at the end of the hallway. It wasn’t a typical curse. It said nothing of who or what was being protected, and there was no mention of death or vile retributions from one of ancient Egypt’s many gods, referring only of a draining of vitality.
“Mark, Sam, anyone need a break?” Phil asked from the front of the slow procession.
“No,” Mark grunted, “I don’t.”
“I’m doing okay… mostly,” Sam agreed. “I just want to get there so I can set this damn thing down and stretch out my legs a little.”
The cramped hallway ended at a blank wall. It was possible the room and hall had been abandoned during the construction of the pyramid, especially since both were completely undecorated. Unfinished rooms weren’t uncommon, but if that was the case, why the warning? Oddly, the wall was a monolithic stone, where the blocks forming the corbelling were like the rest of the pyramid. Not being made of block like the passage leading to it made the wall special, and special was… interesting.
“Like I said, you could be—” Phil began with a grin.
“Yeah, yeah… we know… six four,” Mark grumbled.
Phil and his team had spent three full days trying to determine if there was another room beyond the obstruction, but there was simply no way to tell. The only indication the wall was anything other than what it looked like, was the notch in the right side of the monolithic slab where it joined the corbelling… an opening ideally placed for the use of a lever. Today they were going to apply brute force to the problem by wedging a hydraulic jack into the notch to see what happened.
Phil waddled to a stop at the wall. “Mark, Sam, pass that up here.”
The large ram and pump were passed to Phil as Greg squeezed past the other men so that he could document what they were doing. The jack had several interchangeable heads for different applications, and today it was fitted with the head that would spread two jaws apart. The jack could produce fifty tons of force, and if it couldn’t shove the stone aside, then the notch wasn’t for a lever. If moving the stone required more muscle than the jack could provide, no number of men would be able to open the door, if it was in fact a door, in the cramped space, no matter how long the lever.
“Give me a couple of pumps,” Phil ordered as he wiggled the strong metal jaws into the cutout. As Greg’s camera snapped and flashed, Phil heard two slow pumps on the handle from behind him. “A couple more.” The jaw began to twist. “No, that’s not going to work. Back off and let me try something else.”
Phil waited while the jaws slowly closed before he wiggled them viciously as he leaned into the head, trying to drive the jaws as deep into the notch as possible. He adjusted his position so he could put his back into holding the jaws in place.
“Now,” he grunted as he braced and then pushed hard on the back of the jaws.
Again, the camera flashed and snapped as Mark began slowly pumping the handle. Phil nodded in encouragement as the jaws bit into the stone, so Mark kept pumping to increase the pressure. After ten or fifteen pumps, Phil knew if the jaws slipped, it was going to hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, but he continued to lean into the head. After ten pumps more, he slowly lessened his weight on the jaws. If they slipped now, there was nothing any of them could do to prevent it, and he didn’t want to be close if they did. With the force the head was exerting against the stone, having it slip free was a broken bone waiting to happen. They all had basic first aid training, but being dragged out of the tunnel with a broken leg or arm, or worse, would suck.
“Get back,” Phil said, motioning with his hand as he backed away from the wall.
Mark had stopped pumping as his professor backed away, but started again when Phil nodded at him.
“No closer, Greg,” Phil warned as their photographer leaned in for a better angle as Mark continued to pump the handle.
“It’s getting hard, Doc,” Mark said as he began leaning into the handle.
“You need a break?”
“No, but I thought you’d want to know.”
“Then keep going,” Phil said softly.
After several more pumps, they heard a deep, cracking pop. Holding their breath, everyone froze for a long moment. “Did it move?” Isack finally murmured.
“I don’t think so,” Phil said. He looked at Mark. “What are we at?”
Mark looked at the gauge on the pump. “Thirty-two.”
Phil’s lips thinned. Thirty-two tons of pressure, and the stone was still solidly in place. He considered stopping, not wanting to damage the stone or the pyramid… but that pop… maybe it was starting to give.
“Keep going, but slow… and call out the numbers.”
Mark began to slowly piston the handle. “Thirty-two point five. Thirty-two point seven five. Thirty-three.” He pumped the handle again, and then again, but before he could call out the pressure, the stone slid fractionally with a deep, vibrating grind that all the men could feel.
“It moved!” Sam cried.
“Easy now,” Phil murmured.
Mark slowly pumped the lever, each pump moving the wall a tiny bit more. “Only eighteen tons, Doc,” he said.
“Stop,” Phil ordered. He didn’t like the way sand, or bits of rock, were falling from the top of the wall with every movement. He crept closer as he directed his light to where the ceiling and wall met. “Slowly now,” he said as he continued to watch the corbelling, but the fit between the arch and the monolithic stone was so tight, he couldn’t see anything.
He watched as the door inched further open. Bits of sand or rock dribbled into the hallway with each tiny movement, but he could detect no deformation in the arch. He scooted back as he nodded.
“Slow and easy.”
They continued to jack on the door, pausing twice to bring up the timbers they’d staged at the entrance of the passageway to give the jack more reach. It was clear this was a door that was meant to be opened because there had to be a slot for the stone to slide into. They heard several worrying groans and pops as they forced the door, but after pausing to carefully inspect the arch for deflection after each, and finding none, they continued.
The notch they were jacking against wasn’t at the edge of the door, and they discovered there was more than a foot of stone behind the corbelling. When they finally saw the edge of the door, they all issued a soft cheer of victory. When they had enough of a gap, Phil shined a light through the narrow opening before slipping a borescope around the edge of the door.
Everyone crowded around Phil so they could see the tiny screen. “How thick is that thing?” Brian whispered as the stone displayed on the left side of the screen seemed to go on forever.
“A foot? Eighteen inches maybe?” Phil suggested as they watched the stone crawl past on the screen. A moment later the stone ended, and they were looking into a room. There wasn’t enough light to have any clear indication of the size of the room, or what it looked like, but there was something in the shadows.
“Is that a sarcophagus?” Greg murmured.
Phil twisted the probe’s cable to aim the camera. “Maybe…” he muttered as he stared at the small screen, trying to understand what he was seeing. The design of the lens and light on the probe were for detail and clarity during up close work, not observing something across a room.
“You did it, Doc!” Isack cheered quietly as he slapped Phil on the back.
“Let’s not get too excited about this,” Phil cautioned, even though his hands were quivering with excitement and anticipation.
“Let’s get the door open,” Mark said as he backed away from Phil and positioned himself at the pump. “We only need another couple of feet and we can get in there.”
Phil pulled the borescope back, forcing calmness into his voice as he did. “Yes, but keep taking it slow. That room has been sealed for forty-five hundred years, so another couple of hours won’t matter.”
The men had to pause long enough to retrieve two more timbers, but when there was enough room, they fitted another section to the flexible tubing that was pumping fresh air into the hall. Using a special connector with a bleed valve to attach the new length, the men bled off approximately half the volume to keep the atmosphere in the corridor fresh, while the remainder was pumped into the room. Finally, after three more hours of work, they were ready to try entering the room.
After removing the jack and timbers, Phil positioned himself to squirm through the opening. He could still smell the stale dustiness and feel the heat pouring from the room, but the air was far fresher now than when they’d first started pumping the filtered outside air into the chamber. He removed his belt and canteen before he positioned himself on his side in front of the narrow opening, the ventilation tube draped over him. Having the corbelling go all the way to the floor made the opening into the room even tighter.
He grinned down his body as he adjusted his position slightly. “We’ve been at this all day. Anybody want to stop here and pick this up tomorrow?”
“Are you fucking kidding?” Greg called as everyone snickered.
Phil’s smile spread. “That’s what I thought. We’ll take a peek to see if we’ve got anything. If it looks promising, we’ll call in the dignitaries for the official opening. Someone hand me the lantern… and hold the ventilation tube up.”
Flicking the battery powered lamp on, Phil began shoving it through the gap ahead of him as he wriggled his way through the narrow opening, with Isack and Brian holding the air tube out of the way as much as they could. He was going first because, firstly, it was his expedition… second, but almost as important, he wanted to make sure the air inside the room was breathable, and if it wasn’t, he wanted to know before it effected his students… and thirdly, as the largest of the six men, if he fit, the rest of them would as well.
Grunting and squirming, he dragged and kicked himself along, his back and shoulder rubbing one of the protruding stones of the corbelling as his chest did the same to the door edge. The only reason he could move at all was the finish on the stones was smooth, with no protrusion for his shirt or shorts to snag on. It was a tight fit, and as he struggled his way along, he wished they’d taken the extra time to add another timber and put in a few more pumps on the jack, but he finally made it.
Inside the room he rolled to his hip as he turned to face the narrow opening. “I’m in!” he called.
He set the lamp on the floor just inside the door, to give the man following him light, and then glanced around the room. His stomach sank. There was a sarcophagus, but there were no canopic jars, ushabti figurines, or treasures. The room was perhaps ten by eight feet, the low monolithic stone ceiling barely above his head making the room feel incredibly cramped. Almost as distressing as the absence of the jars, statues, treasure, and the room’s tiny dimensions, was its complete lack of decoration. The room and sarcophagus were as barren of carvings and paintings as the hallway leading to it. This wasn’t the burial chamber of a Pharaoh.
As Mark stood after dragging himself into the room, Phil glanced at him. He could see the disappointment as clear on Mark’s face as it was probably on his. Neither man said anything as they continued to flash their lights around the room. One by one, the other four men wormed their way into the room, and one by one, the excitement on their face was replaced by stark disappointment.
“What do you think, Doc?” Isack, the last to enter the room, asked after he’d looked around.
“Don’t know, but I think it’s clear it’s not Snefru’s burial chamber.”
“Yeah,” Brian muttered. “Do you suppose there’s treasure in another room, or maybe in the relieving chamber, that’ll tell us who it is?”
“If it’s anyone,” Brian murmured.
Six beams of light rapidly flashed around the room as the men’s heads swiveled side to side, searching for an opening to another room, or the room above that transferred the incredible weight of the pyramid around the chamber, and finding none.
“Jesus,” Sam growled. “How can it be this hot in here?”
Phil shook his head. “I don’t know. It shouldn’t be like this.”
The Egyptian pyramids were comfortably cool inside, but this small room was far warmer than the sixty-eight degrees of the rest of the pyramid. Phil didn’t know how hot it was, but it felt at least as hot as the 100 degree plus heat outside.
“Another thing I don’t understand,” Greg murmured as he continued to glance around. “How was he supposed to get out?”
Ancient Egyptians believed that when resurrection came, the body literally came to life again after the soul traveled to the underworld. It was why their Pharaohs were mummified, buried with treasure, and tributes of beer and food were made to fortify the Ka, so the kings would have everything they needed when their soul returned to the body. This room was sealed, with no means for the body to escape or for offerings to be made to the Ka, and there was no treasure for Snefru to take into the afterlife.
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Phil replied, striving to keep his voice neutral. “Maybe he’s not here.”
“Abandoned?” Greg asked.
“Probably,” Phil said as his light landed on Sam. “Sam, you okay?” he asked. His student was pale and sweating profusely.
“Yeah, fine. It’s just so hot and stuffy in here.” He paused a moment as a wan smile touched his lips. “Or maybe I’m having my vitality sucked out of me.”
Everyone snickered. “It’s got to be the room… because if it makes you feel any better, I’m not feeling a hundred percent at the moment myself,” Brian added as the rest of the students nodded in agreement, their faces twisting into various expressions that added weight to Brian’s words.
Phil glanced at each of his five students. All their faces were pale, and he wondered if his was as well. He felt fine, but they must not have allowed the room to ventilate long enough before entering. He had a duty to keep everyone safe, so he made a decision.
“It’s been a long day,” Phillip began. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll keep the blower running and let the room vent overnight while we get a good night’s sleep, and in the morning, when we’re fresh, we’ll come back, open the sarcophagus and start looking for a—”
Before Phil could finish speaking, a deep rumbling tremor the men could not only hear, but feel in their chests, sounded in the room. They froze, remaining still and barely breathing, for several long moments.
“What the fuck was that?” Brian whispered.
“I don’t know,” Phil said, his voice library quiet, “but I think it’s definitely time we—”
The rumbled sounded again, louder this time, followed by a sharp crack of something breaking. There was a moment of silence then the rumble sounded a third time, and the door shifted slightly.
“Out!” Phil yelled as he waved frantically at the door.
The men scrambled for the opening. When the door shifted, it’d opened slightly wider. The extra bit of width, coupled with adrenaline fueled panic, allowed the men to scramble out of the room faster than they’d entered. As the men frantically hauled themselves through the opening, the rumbling would occasionally pause, but only for the briefest of moments, before returning with greater violence.
“Hurry!” Phil urged as he shoved Greg toward the opening, the last of the students to evacuate.
Phil was starting to follow Greg through the door when a deafening crack, followed by the heaviest thudding so far shook the room. The door shifted again, and Phil threw himself back into the room to avoid being crushed. The door didn’t close, but the gap was narrower than it’d been a moment ago, maybe narrower than when he’d squirmed his way in.
“Doc? You okay?” Mark yelled. “The tunnel is shift—!”
“Yeah! Go! I’m right behind you!” Phil shouted over him.
He’d barely finished speaking when the heaviest rumble yet shook the room as dust poured through the narrow opening, and then there was quiet. Phil sat for a moment, waiting for the shaking to start again, but the room remained still and silent. With infinite care, Phil tried to wiggle his way through the opening. He fit, barely, but there was nowhere to go. The other side of the door was completely sealed with rubble. He dug at it for a moment, hoping beyond hope he could claw an opening in the debris, but soon gave up. Other than scraping loose some dust, he accomplished nothing. Grunting and panting, he slowly worked his way back into the room.
“Guys?” he called loudly. “Can anyone hear me?”
He listened but heard nothing. He cupped his hands around his mouth near the opening to direct his voice. “Guys!” he called as loudly as he could. “Anyone there? Can anyone hear me? Is everyone alright?”
He turned his ear to the opening as he listened intently, but he heard nothing except for the occasional trickle of dirt or the soft plonk of a small rock falling. He sat back, staring at the opening. He was trapped, and he didn’t know if any of his students were still alive, or how far along the hallway the collapse might extend.
He started to pant as panic began to take him. Had he done this? Had opening the door started the collapse? Should he have stopped when he’d seen the first trickle of debris leaking around the door? He sensed his rising panic, but he forced himself to think. He should be okay for a while. While debris unquestionably plugged part of the hallway, they weren’t the carefully fitted blocks that formed the corbelling. Assuming it wasn’t a total collapse, air would flow around and through the rubble to reach him if they kept the blower running. He just needed to not panic and wait for them to dig him out. They’d have to be careful during the excavation to not damage the rest of the pyramid, but the tunnel was only a couple of hundred feet long. It’d take some time, but they could do it.
Assuming anyone was still alive to dig me out… his mind whispered.
He shoved the thought aside. He didn’t want to die, and he was going to do everything he could to stay alive until he was rescued… but if he did die here… there were worse places to be buried than in the tomb of Snefru.
He had an urge to cry in fear and despair, for himself and his students. He didn’t know they were dead, but he didn’t know they were alive either. Shaking his head violently, he fought off the tears. He couldn’t spare the water. Because he’d left his canteen on the other side of the door, it was going to be a long time before he had water again.
I’m going to die, his mind whispered. I’m going to be trapped here forever, and I’m going to die of asphyxiation, dehydration, or starvation. Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! his mind screamed.
He scooted away from the door to sit with his back against the sarcophagus. He sat silent for a long time while staring at the small square opening at the door’s edge. His mind was completely devoid of thought and his muscles of action as time slowed to a stop. Slowly he became aware of the pain in his ass from sitting on the stone floor, his discomfort prodding him into action. Hissing, he staggered to his feet.
Without the constant inflow of outside air, the chamber was becoming increasingly hot and stuffy. Ignoring the heat and the close air, he forced himself to study the room. He’d been eager to get into the chamber, and now he was here. If he got out of this, it was likely no one would be allowed to return for safety reasons, so he decided he might as well look around, and try to learn what he could while he waited for rescue. It was better than doing nothing while spiraling into panic and desperation. He started by turning off the lantern to preserve the battery. Being stuck in there was bad enough, but being stuck in there in utter darkness was going to be worse, and he wanted to delay that nightmare as long as possible.
Using only his headlight, Phil examined the undecorated sarcophagus. He started slightly when a realization struck him. He glanced from the large, rectangular sarcophagus to the door and then back to the sarcophagus. The sarcophagus was at least seven feet long, perhaps four feet wide, and about four feet tall. To be sure, he gently lay over the stone box with his arms outstretched, placing his fingertip at one side while making note of where on his body the other side ended. He then moved to the door and placed his fingertips against the wall. The sarcophagus had ended near his opposite shoulder, but the edge of the door was barely past his outstretched arm. There was no way the sarcophagus came through that door. Phil thought for a moment. The ancient Egyptians hadn’t put the sarcophagus in the room and then built the pyramid around it because Snefru was still alive during the pyramid’s construction. Alternately, the priests damn sure hadn’t carried their dead and mummified Pharaoh through the corbelled hall, with his body draped over their shoulder like a sack of grain, to put him in the sarcophagus after his death… which meant there was, or at least had been, another way into the room.
Hope flared as he returned to the sarcophagus. If there was a body in the stone box, no matter who’s it was, there might be a way out. Squatting, he braced and then heaved with all his strength against the lid. Groaning loudly, the muscles in his arms, chest, and legs twisting, bulging, and quivering with effort, he strained to lift the stone lid. After an eternity of muscle straining effort, he relaxed with an explosive exhale. The lid hadn’t moved the tiniest amount, even with his desperation fueled strength.
If the sarcophagus was like most fourth dynasty sarcophagi, there was an inner lip on the lid, and he’d have to lift the top straight up several inches to clear the walls. The lid probably weighed a ton, maybe more, and though he considered trying again, he changed his mind. Even if he did somehow manage to budge it, he had no hope of lifting it high enough to remove it without some form of mechanical aid, and he decided to conserve his strength.
After realizing that opening the sarcophagus was impossible, he turned his attention to carefully examining the walls, looking for any indication where the blocks weren’t as perfectly fitted as all the rest. He began in a corner, so he’d know when he’d covered the entire room, and began to closely inspect the line between each block.
Like in all the great pyramids, the workmanship was exquisite, the blocks fitting so tightly together there wasn’t room for a grain of sand to pass between them. When he discovered even the slightest imperfection, he’d blow on the seam, looking for any gap that could indicate the block had been added at a different time than its neighbor, only to be disappointed. Dripping sweat and panting for breath, he kept going, moving quickly but examining every joint from floor to ceiling with the same care as its neighbor. If he didn’t find an opening before his lantern died, he never would.
He’d covered about half of the first wall before his headlamp became so dim to be useless. Using the last of its feeble glow, he removed the headlamp, retrieved the lantern, and turned it on. Holding the lamp close to the wall he continued his quick, but careful inspection. He’d covered about two-thirds of the second wall, and while the lantern was still bright, he knew when the lamp finally began to dim, he’d have only minutes of light left.
He was pausing to wipe sweat from his face when he noticed from the corner of his eye, a figure standing at the end of the sarcophagus. He whirled toward the person with a loud cry of surprise. Gasping for breath as his heart thudded in his chest, he stared at the statue. The figure was a sculpture of Osiris, with his legs mummy-wrapped to his upper thighs, pharaoh beard, atef crown, and crook and flail. The man was otherwise naked, sporting a muscular chest, powerful arms, and an impossibly gigantic, erect, thickly veined penis that was as thick as Phil’s forearm, and reached the crook and flail the God held to his chest with crossed arms.
Phil stared in disbelief. It was inconceivable the statue had been there all along… yet there it was. As he stared, wondering if he was already beginning to go insane, or was being affected by hypoxemia, Phil realized the figure wasn’t a statue as he’d first thought, but a man dressed as Osiris. As before, the man simply couldn’t be there, yet he was. More disturbing, no matter where Phil looked, Osiris was there. He didn’t move, he was simply there, standing as if that was where he’d been all along. When Phil’s gaze flicked to a new location, Osiris would be there… yet no matter where he looked, there was only the one man… or God. Phil’s rapidly flicking gaze settled on a single location, and he stared at the man for a long moment, unable to move or speak.
“You have been chosen as champion,” Osiris intoned in ancient Egyptian, his voice seemingly coming from everywhere in the room, yet the man’s lips never moved.
“Wha…?” Phil gasped, beginning to pant harder as he drew his hand across his face to wipe away the sweat. It was so hot and stale in the room he felt like he couldn’t catch his breath.
“With your trespass, vitality was taken from the others to begin the journey, and entry into Duat is now possible.”
“What journey?” Phil demanded, first in English and then in ancient Egyptian.
“Snefru, the greatest king of the old ones must face you in single combat,” Osiris continued as if Phil hadn’t spoken. “Should you fail, your vitality will complete the great one and strengthen him for his journey. Should you succeed, his journey will become yours.”
“What combat? What journey? What do you mean ‘become mine’? Who are you? How did you get in here?” Phil demanded in the language of Osiris.
Phil’s eyes opened wide as a green, ethereal glow began at the God’s phallus before forming a ribbon to surround the sarcophagus, the tendrils of power, or magic, or whatever the fuck it was, seeping into the vault before the lid slowly rose and then tipped to the floor with a room shaking, booming thud. Phil stood, dumbfounded, wanting to see what was in the sarcophagus, but stunned into an inability to move or make a sound.
Before he could shake himself free of his astonishment, he heard nearly inaudible scratching sounds from within the sarcophagus. Audible only because of the profound silence in the vault, the scratching, mixed with an occasional soft thump, continued until there was a quiet ripping of cloth. With deep dread, Phil forced himself to creep forward to peer into the sarcophagus. Inside the stone box, a mummy was writhing as its fingers on a partially exposed hand continued to claw at the linens.
While he should be screaming and clawing at the walls in terror, Phil felt nothing but amazement. As he watched, the ashen fingers tore away more of the wrappings, the flax linen, after forty-five centuries, brittle and easy to rip. Its hand finally free, the creature began to rip more aggressively at the burial wrap, the fibers of the linen parting in clouds of fine dust as the thing inside the linen wrapping struggled to free itself. Once its hands and arms were free, the mummy began rapidly tearing away the linen, the revealed flesh ashen, but not the grotesque, dried, twisted flesh of a typical mummy.
As the creature ripped and tore at its bindings to free itself, Osiris spoke again. “As you take from each other, so shall you take from me. As Isis restored me, so I shall restore you. My power becomes yours. My vitality becomes yours. Summon your strength and weaken not. To succeed will be to live at my side in Duat. To fail is to be cast out and to forever dwell with Set in violence and disorder.”
“What do you mean, vitality? Restore? Restore what? I don’t understand!”
Phil glanced at the thing Osiris had called Snefru. The creature was tugging and ripping at the linens wrapping its body, and as more of his flesh was exposed, Phil could see the monster was huge, easily matching him in height and build. The average ancient Egyptian male was between five-five and five-eight, so this… man… had been a giant in his time. As the creature ripped away the linens to expose its large, well-developed chest and rippled abdomen, the muscles beneath the grey and sickly appearing flesh were taut and deeply sculpted.
“I’m supposed to fight him?” Phil asked, unable to tear his gaze from the thing in the sarcophagus.
Osiris said nothing as Snefru continued to reveal himself. As the mummy ripped the linen from its hips and legs, the large flaccid cock began to harden to an impressive size. He wasn’t as big as the impossibly huge member Osiris displayed, but no man could ever be that large. With sweat trickling into his eyes, Phil wiped his face with his arm. He was so hot, and it was so hard to breathe!
The Egyptian in the sarcophagus sat up as he sneered at Phil, staring at the American with undisguised malice and disgust as he kicked free from the last of the wrappings, his pale flesh already beginning to glow with sweat. “You are not of the people,” Snefru rumbled as he stood, his voice deep, strong, and commanding. It was the voice of a king. “I have passed through the twelve gates, yet you stand before me as a final test. You dare to try to deny my entrance into Duat?” The mummy smiled, but it was the smile of a viper. “As Set to Osiris, so are we… but I will not be fooled by your evil trickery. This time we share the sarcophagus. Let us settle who is stronger… and claim the right of entry to Duat.”
Phillip swallowed hard. Snefru was speaking of the myth of Osiris. In the myth, Set tricked his brother, Osiris, into entering a sarcophagus, which he then sealed to trap Osiris inside. Set then threw the sarcophagus, with his brother still trapped inside, into the Nile so that he could replace his brother as king. Osiris drowned and thus assumed his place as the ruler of the underworld and the God of resurrection. Osiris was later resurrected by Isis, and given a new penis through magic so that he could father Horus. It was clear from Snefru’s words, he placed himself in the position of Osiris, and Phillip in the role of Set, and he intended to take revenge on Set for his treachery.
Phil wiped his face as he panted and struggled for breath. “You’re not real,” he growled. “You can’t be real. None of this is real.”
Snefru’s eyes and smile became dangerous as he stepped from the sarcophagus and stopped just out of Phil’s reach, sweat droplets already trickling down his heavily muscled body. “The strength and power of my sword is as real as my vengeance… which I will use to take your vitality to ensure my entry into Duat.”
“I won’t fight you.”
Snefru said nothing for a moment as his nasty smile spread slightly. “Then my restoration and entrance into Duat is assured,” he snarled as he lunged at his opponent and grabbed Phil’s manhood through his pants.
Phil howled in pain as he seized Snefru’s hand while twisting his hips violently to rip his package from the monster’s grip. His cock and balls aching, he quickly backed away to gain space as the pain in his manhood rapidly faded.
Snefru lunged again for Phil’s penis, but this time Phil was ready and tried to dodge away. The room was so small there was little room to maneuver, and though Snefru missed his target, Phil couldn’t completely avoid the attack. Snarling loudly, Snefru tried to haul Phil to him by his shirt but succeeded only in ripping it, and with a squirming twist, Phil slipped free.
Snarling in frustration, Snefru thew the shirt aside before hurling himself at Phil again. The American tried to block and dodge the Egyptian’s attack, but he was only partially successful as Snefru grabbed the waist of Phil’s shorts to prevent Phil’s complete escape. Phil, unable to gain any distance between himself and his attacker, couldn’t prevent Snefru from grasping his manhood a second time. With a roar of pain, Phil tried to shove the monster away. Snefru stumbled, but didn’t relinquish his grip on his opponent’s cock. Still roaring his agony to the room, Phil shoved again, downward this time, trying to drive Snefru to his knees. Again, the mummy stumbled, bending at the waist, but didn’t fall.
In desperation, Phil drove first one, a second, and then a third elbow hard into the back of Snefru’s neck. Snefru added his bellow of pain to Phil’s as man and monster struggled, the man trying to break the monster’s neck to escape the excruciating pain of Snefru’s vice like grip.
Unable to defend himself, Snefru released Phil’s cock as he twisted away from the man’s powerful blows, violently dragging the American around by the waist of his shorts. As Phil stumbled with the sudden change in Snefru’s attack, the button of Phillip’s pants failed, allowing the shorts to slide partially down his legs. His legs bound by his shorts, Phil was unable to maintain his balance and crashed to the hard, stone floor.
Slowed by his encumbered legs, Phil was unable to escape Snefru’s lunge. Phil flung his hands up to defend himself, but Snefru’s attack was far different than Phil expected. Rather than trying to pummel him, Snefru grabbed Phil’s exposed and flaccid member to begin jerking and tugging on it furiously.
Snarling, Phil tried desperately to scramble away from Snefru’s attack, but with his legs entangled in his shorts, he was unable to escape. The two men writhed on the hot, hard stone floor as Phil feverishly tried to free his penis from the mummy’s attack while furiously kicking to release his legs from their cotton manacles. A lucky kick briefly freed Phil’s cock from the mummy’s grip, but despite his desperate efforts to escape, the shorts and underwear continued to bind Phil’s ankles since his boots prevented the clothing from slipping over his feet. Snefru attacked again, and as the hands of human and monster skirmished over Phil’s cock, Phillip continued kicking furiously to unfetter his legs.
With Phil’s ability to move hampered by his ensnared legs, Snefru’s hands broke through Phil’s frenzied defense to seize the man’s cock again. As Phil roared in pain, one of his forceful kicks finally dislodged a boot so that he could kick his way out of his shorts. With his legs finally unbound, Phil twisted strongly to his hip so that he could kick Snefru away a second time, Phil’s roar of pain becoming a scream as the monster’s hand was violently ripped from his cock.
With speed born of desperation, the two men scrambled to their feet, Phil still wearing one boot with his underwear and shorts hanging from the ankle. The mummy immediately charged again to press his advantage. With the agony of his cock quickly fading, Phil was able to call upon his football training, blocking Snefru’s charge by sidestepping and shoving him to the floor as he passed, but not before the monster raked Phil’s legs and balls with his nails as he fell. Phil howled his pain to the room, but as when Snefru was jerking and tugging on Phil’s cock, the pain faded almost instantly.
As the mummy scrambled to his feet, Phil fell against the wall, pressing his back into the hot blocks as he quickly kicked out of his boot and pants, leaving him as naked as the man he was fighting, but able to move freely. Phil had just freed himself when Snefru charged again. Trapped against the chamber wall and unable to backpedal to give himself room, Phil tried to sidestep Snefru’s charge.
Man and monster roared as the Egyptian slammed into the American to pin him against the wall. Trying to pin Phil’s arms to the wall beside his head, the monster leaned into the man, using his weight to hold Phillip against the wall. Grunting and snarling, the two men squirmed against each other in desperate effort. Their bodies gleaming with sweat, Snefru ground his hard cock into Phil’s manhood before releasing one of Phil’s hands and backing away enough to grab Phil’s cock to begin jerking it savagely.
Howling in pain, Phil tried to protect his manhood from the mummy’s attack with his freed hand, while thrusting and squirming his hips in a desperate bid to escape. With the monster erotically mauling his cock, Phil began to harden as man and monster strained in their desperate, sweaty battle.
“Get… off… me… you… dead… mother… fucker…” Phil snarled as man and mummy struggled against each other.
The stone blocks uncomfortably warm against Phil’s ass and back, the two men squirmed against the wall and each other, Phil’s sweat leaving brief evidence of their skirmish before disappearing. Finally, after a long moment of muscle twisting effort, Phil was able to hook the mummy’s heel as he shoved the creature away with a violent thrust of his hips. The man stumbled back a step, and then two, Phil’s shriek of pain filling the room as Snefru dragged him from the wall by his cock before regaining his balance. As Phil fought the incredible pain radiating from his manhood, the monster wasted no time before throwing himself behind his rival and sliding his arm around the man’s throat to clasp him tightly to his chest.
Grunting, squirming, and snarling in effort, Phil struggled against Snefru’s choke as the mummy stroked his cock with increased speed and power. As pleasure replaced pain, Phil quickly reached his full size and hardness as the monster’s fist pistoned rapidly over his cock. Phil didn’t understand why the mummy seemed so focused on his manhood rather than choking him out or trying to throw him to the floor to ground and pound him.
“Bastard! You fucking bastard!” Phil growled as his orgasm began to surround him.
Phil’s hips began pumping of their own accord, his body taking what it wanted as the monster violently fist-fucked him. As Phil unconsciously began fucking the mummy’s fist, the muscles of his arms and chest bulged and twisted in effort as he strained against the powerful arm surrounding his throat. With a roar, Phil lunged backward, driving Snefru into the wall of the chamber. Snefru grunted hard and deep with the impact but never slowed his erotic attack. Phil lunged back again, and then a third time to drive Snefru hard into the wall, the monster barking loudly with each crushing impact.
“Fuck!” Phillip wailed as a huge arc of semen exploded from his cock. He’d been six weeks without Cheryl, and he could no longer endure Snefru’s vicious masturbation.
Before the long rope of come arching from Phil’s cock splattered on the hot stone floor, Osiris was in front of him, Phil’s seed landing on the God’s rippled stomach. As another jet of Phil’s essence arched through the air to splatter against Osiris’ stomach and cock, an impossibly large fountain of come, easily two or three hundred times the amount of Phil’s expulsion, geysered from the God’s massive cock to coat Phillip and Snefru. The God’s ear shattering roar of completion reverberated in the room, joining the man and monster’s loud wails of pleasure and pain as splash after splash of the God’s creamy, white substance coated them, the thick fluid burning as hot as the Egyptian sun where it covered Phillip’s flesh.
As Osiris covered the two men in his essence, Snefru relaxed his grip on Phil’s throat enough that, when aided by the slickness of Osiris’ come, Phil was able to force the monster’s arm away, tear the mummy’s hand from his come slickened cock, and escape into the center of the room. Breathing hard, Phil whirled to face his foe as Snefru began to recover from Osiris coming on them. Snefru’s face twisted with evil triumph, his head down like an enraged bull, he approached.
Phil stood, still recovering from his forced orgasm and the pain of Osiris’ come, watching the monster stalk toward him. Normally Phil was one and done until he had fifteen to twenty minutes to recharge, but he was still stone hard. While he may have just come hard as fuck, he’d never felt so drained, sluggish, and lethargic after an orgasm before, the feeling reminding him of how he felt when he was coming down with a cold or the flu. He began to back away from his slowly pursuing foe, and as he did, he realized the mummy no longer looked so… dead. Phil wasn’t sure, but Snefru’s flesh didn’t appear to be as ashen as it had before.
With a flash of insight, the meaning of Osiris’ words became clear to Phillip. Snefru was taking his life force, his vitality, and adding it to his own. That was why Sam and the others had looked so pale. They were being drained of life to resurrect Snefru. Now he was being drained as well, and apparently the transfer of his life force happened when he came.
As you take from each other, so shall you take from me. Osiris’ words rang in Phil’s mind. If he could make the mummy come, would he take life from it?
As Isis restored me, so I shall restore you. Phil wondered if Osiris was healing him in some way. Phillip quickly glanced at the scratches on his leg. The marks were no longer visible, and even after such a violent mauling of his cock, he felt no discomfort, and he’d lost none of his hardness.
My power becomes yours. My vitality becomes yours. Should you succeed, his journey will become yours. Phillip didn’t understand how, he didn’t understand any of this, but this might be his way out. His lips thinned and hardened as he realized what he had to do.
In a way, it made twisted sense. Osiris had lost his cock due to Set’s treachery, and Isis had magically restored it so he could father Horus with her. When Osiris had come on them, Snefru appeared to be in rapture, not pain, even though Phil was the one who’d come. Maybe the burning sting of the God’s come was the result of a portion of his vitality being taken from his body to be absorbed by Snefru. Phil’s face hardened even more. He now knew he had no choice but to fight. Panting hard, he wiped the sweat and come from his face. He was going to have to stop backing up, and go on offense, if he were to have any chance of victory.
Phillip stopped and set, and the moment Snefru was in range, he swung as hard as he could with a sweeping right roundhouse. Phil was no fighter, but he was a big, powerful man, and the punch connected solidly with Snefru’s cheek and jaw. Pain briefly swelled in his hand and fingers from the power of his blow as the monster reeled back a step, and then two, before crashing against the stone wall.
Recovering from the punch, Snefru straightened as he wiped his face, smearing blood, sweat, and come, before spitting blood onto the floor with a smile. His lip was bleeding badly, but as Phil watched, the bleeding stopped and the cut closed. That was Phil’s best shot, and it had produced negligible results. As the monster closed again, Phil lashed out with his foot, hoping to kick Snefru in the balls. Snefru saw the attack coming, and tried to parry, but he was only marginally successful. With a deep, painful sounding grunt, Snefru hunched as he grabbed his manhood, but after a moment, he straightened as his cold smile returned, his cock having lost none of its previous hardness.
There was no longer any doubt in Phil’s mind that Osiris was healing them when the kick to the mummy’s balls, which would have put any man on his knees, barely disturbed it. Phil flexed his hand, the pain from a moment ago was gone as if it’d never been. He was now certain they couldn’t seriously injure each other. Osiris was healing them, so their only option was to fight in the most primitive, raw, and personal way possible, until one of them was drained and defeated. He and the monster were engaged in an erotic battle… and there could be only one survivor.
In the tiny room, especially with the sarcophagus sitting in the middle of the space, there was little room to move, but it didn’t matter. Phillip was done retreating, instinctually knowing it was going to be his cock taking on the monster’s cock in an all-out war of strength and endurance, and the first one to falter, the first to soften, the first to lose the will to fight, would be drained of life until they were nothing but a dried husk.
“All right, you dead fucker,” Phil growled in English as he prepared to fight… and fuck… for his life. “Let’s do this shit.”
“Your words are strange, but your screams will be easy for any to understand,” the monster sneered as he threw himself at his adversary.
The two big men slammed together with grunting snarls, their sweat soaked bodies grinding and sliding against each other as each fought for advantage. Facing each other, their teeth bared in feral sneers, they engaged in a sweaty, muscle twisting dance, their hands darting, reaching, and straining as they struggled to seize their rival’s cock while simultaneously protecting their own.
Snefru screamed as Phil managed to penetrate the monster’s defense to grasp his cock and balls. Pressing his advantage, Phil tucked his heel behind Snefru as he shoved the monster backward. Snefru, unable to step back, stumbled, pulling Phil with him as the two men went to the hot stones of the floor with a bone jarring thud. Landing on top, and never losing his grip on the mummy’s huge, grey cock, Phil threw himself over the Egyptian, driving his shoulder and back against the Mummy’s chin to pin him in place.
Roaring, Snefru strained to twist away from Phil’s pin while simultaneously trying to reach his foe’s manhood. Snarling and growling in effort, man and monster struggled as they squirmed their way across the stone block floor. Phil moved with his pinned opponent, keeping his cock from the monster’s reach as he masturbated the mummy’s rigid cock with brutal intensity.
Though neither man nor mummy approached the impossibly huge dimensions of Osiris’ cock and balls, both were equally impressive in length and girth, their stone hard cocks easily surpassing the size of most men. With a scream, Snefru’s massive rod erupted, throbbing powerfully as it sprayed come into Phil’s face. As before, Osiris was there, and again his scream of rapture echoed loudly in the room as his come gushed forth, coating man and monster as they continued their struggle in the flood of the God’s come.
Phil wailed, not in pain as before, but in bliss, as Osiris’ come drenched his back from head to ass. Never had Phil felt such power and pleasure surging through him. As Osiris coated them with his essence, Phil’s thirst, his difficulty breathing, and his weakness all disappeared, leaving him feeling energized and strong. Phillip reared, his hard cock fucking the smooth stone floor while shrieking his pleasure to the room. Beneath him, Snefru likewise howled, but there was no pleasure on the man’s face, only pain, as he grasped futilely for Phil’s cock.
Phil was still recovering from the most intense pleasure of his life as Snefru kicked away from him. Man and monster staggered to their feet, sweat and come dripping from their noses, fingers, and balls. While Phillip felt like he could take on Osiris himself, Snefru appeared to be weakened, and his flesh had returned to its previous ashen appearance, losing what little color it’d gained after Phil came.
His theory further confirmed they were in a fuck to the death, and feeling the surge of power from draining Snefru, Phil charged his nemesis with a bellow of rage and battle lust. The two heavily muscled men collided with a meaty thud as sweat and come splattered with the impact. As American and Egyptian strained, their powerful bodies tangled as they ground against each other, Snefru took a step back, his ass bumping hard against the sarcophagus. As Phil pressed in, Snefru became overbalanced and tumbled into the stone box he’d appeared from with a roar of effort, fury and defeat. With a bellow of his own, Phil launched himself into the box after the monster, determined to drain Snefru of the last of his life force while he had the advantage.
Snarling and growling loudly in rage, hate, lust, and effort, man and monster battled face to face, nipple to nipple, and cock to cock, first one on top then the other as they thrashed and tumbled in the tight confines of the sarcophagus. Their sweaty, muscular bodies pressed tightly together, their hips pistoning furiously, man and mummy fucked their adversary’s cock with manic intensity, each knowing that to come could lead to their demise.
Phil growled deep in his chest as Snefru grabbed strips of linen that had once encased his body and thrust up violently to wrap them around Phil’s throat. The two men strained against each other, their huge muscles bulging and twisting with desperate effort as Phil struggled to free his throat from the strips that were choking him. With a snarl, the monster beneath the man twisted his hips violently. The combatants thrashed and tumbled between the narrow walls of the stone box, their hips never slowing as they fucked each other with hate and violence. After a brief struggle, the warriors came to rest with the mummy now dominant, his big, hard cock fucking Phil’s equally large and rigid member in rage and excitement as he leaned hard on the strips of linen to hold them tightly around the man’s throat.
His teeth bared and muscles quivering with effort, Phil strained to throw the monster off him. Grunting and snarling in loathing and effort, the brawlers writhed in sweaty, muscle twisting effort as Phil slowly forced his nemesis to his back. Snefru’s eyes wild, his massive arms quivering with effort, he continued to hold the scraps of cloth against Phil’s throat. After a long moment of agonizing struggle, Phils’ hips never slowing their furious thrusting, the strips parted in a cloud of dust. Free at last, Phil collapsed over the Egyptian’s chest and began fucking his opponent’s stone hard cock even harder.
Their hard nipples waging as fierce a war as their cocks, the American lay over the Egyptian, their hands and arms tangled as Phil strained to pin the mummy’s hands against the sarcophagus wall to prevent the monster from choking him again. With a roar, one of Snefru’s hands slipped from Phillip’s grip to claw desperately at the edge of the sarcophagus, and then the air above Phil’s back. The mummy’s arm outstretched as if begging for help from his God, the monster’s roar became even louder as he came, his essence jetting from his massive cock as Phil continued fucking it ruthlessly.
With another deafening shriek of pleasure directed to the chamber’s low ceiling, Osiris’ gigantic cock flooded the two men with come, covering Phil’s back and ass in a thick coating. Snefru’s bellow of ecstasy became a wail of agony as he lunged his hips up while twisting violently.
As the rush of pleasure poured through him, Phil added his voice to the mummy’s as pleasure and pain mixed, the sudden rush of power and pleasure as Osiris raptured causing Phillip to come. Man and monster screamed and writhed in soaring pleasure and agonizing pain inside the stone box, their madly thrusting hips never slowing as Phillip’s orgasm caused the God to come again, his essence washing over them in another flood of come as their pain and pleasure became almost intolerable in intensity.
Howling like ancient banshees, the two combatants squirmed and twisted, their bodies slick with Osiris’ come as they battled their pleasure, their pain, and each other. Screaming with effort, pleasure, and pain, the monster forced the American to his back before Phil continued their roll with a roar and a violent twist of his hips, throwing the mummy off him and onto his side. Tightly wedged chest to chest by the strong walls of the sarcophagus, their nipples dueling and their hips churning furiously, they bellowed and roared as man and monster battled in muscle twisting effort.
The echoes of their screams had barely faded when they were renewed as first the man’s giant shaft, and then a moment later, the monster’s equally huge rod, erupted with powerful sprays of come. Twice more, Osiris’ bellowed his pleasure to the room, his enormous cock throbbing powerfully as he coated, and then recoated the man and monster in his thick, slippery semen. Unable to escape their pleasure and pain, the warriors’ heads were thrown back as they screamed their torment to the room, the two brawlers jerking and writhing as their hard cocks dueled in mortal combat.
Wailing in pleasure, effort, and pain, the man and monster tumbled again, and then again in the come coated sarcophagus, the two combatants locked together in a frenzied battle of endurance. Howling in effort, Snefru threw himself to his knees, straddling one of the American’s legs as the two fighters grabbed their adversary’s enormous, come slickened cock. Stroking each other’s hard rod furiously, their teeth bared in loud, feral snarls, their muscled bodies gleamed with come and sweat as they engaged in a furious battle.
With a shrieking wail, Snefru threw himself back as a long jet of come exploded from his cock to splash on Phil’s sweat and come slickened chest. As Osiris screamed in pleasure, his massive cock spraying the mummy with his come, Phil’s howl joined Snefru’s as he thrust his hips skyward, the wave of power and pleasure from Osiris’ orgasm pushing Phil over the edge and into his own rapture.
As Snefru tumbled out of the sarcophagus to land on the floor, his hips furiously lunging and fucking the air, Phil remained in the sarcophagus as Osiris came again, Phil’s hard cock madly fucking the thick stream of Osiris’ come as it gushed over him. He and the monster had traded three climaxes each during their intense battle while wedged in the sarcophagus, causing Osiris to come six times, leaving man and monster thickly coated head to toe with the God’s come.
As Phil returned to himself from his climax, he wiped his eyes to clear them of come. With Osiris’ come dripping from him in thick droplets, Phil scrambled up before he stumbled from the stone prison. At his feet, Snefru struggled upright. The two men stood, panting with pleasure and effort, come and sweat dripping from them to softly splatter on the floor.
No words spoken or required, the two men stepped toward each other, offering no defense as they seized their enemy’s cock. Standing chest to chest, their legs tangled, Phil grasped Snefru’s bald head as the Egyptian wadded his fist in Phil’s hair. Snared in each other’s grasp to prevent escape, their fists pistoned with feverish speed and power over their opponent’s long, thick, come slickened shaft.
After a long moment of soft snarls, quiet pants, and low groans, first the man, and then immediately afterward, the mummy, bellowed in mind destroying pleasure as they came. Like every other time, Osiris was there, his shriek of rapture deafening as his come arced high to rain over man and monster as they continued stroking their adversary’s cock with furious effort. Unwilling to relent, unable to retreat, man and monster battled, howling as their pleasure and pain became one. As Osiris’ come drenched them, man and monster come erupted again as the two fighters battled in incessant pleasure and effort. The ancient Egyptian god’s shrieks of pleasure echoing loudly in the tiny, hot, stone room, he again drenched them with his essence.
With nothing mattering except for the defeat of their foe, man and monster stood sweaty face to sweaty face, jutting nipple to jutting nipple, and hard cock to hard cock. As Osiris’ essence flowed over them with each orgasm, the American and Egyptian’s thirst was quenched, their hunger satiated, and their strength renewed.
Gripping their nemesis to prevent their retreat, eyes wild and teeth bared in semen coated faces, man and monster growled in deep, feral snarls as they grunted and strained in their unrelenting contest of strength and endurance. As Osiris’ come slowly oozed down their muscular, sweat soaked bodies, and flew from the furiously pistoning fists gripping their adversary’s cock, their world focused down to their cock and their need to destroy, or be destroyed by, their enemy.
As the lantern slowly dimmed, hard man cock continued to battle rigid monster cock, the only sounds the deep, harsh grunts of muscle twisting effort, the loud feral snarls of lust and hate, and screams of rapture as come erupted from three hard cocks. As the last rays of lantern light faded, the sounds of man cock battling monster cock to the death continued unabated, the frequent screams of bliss from man, monster, and ancient God, echoing in the darkness…
-oOo-
Michael held the woman’s elbow to steady her. Cheryl Corvin, who’s beauty and gracefulness hadn’t entirely faded despite being in her eighties, was breathing hard from the effort of reaching the second antechamber, but she’d been determined. As she gathered her breath and steadied, he slowly relaxed his grip on her elbow.
“You okay?” he asked.
She smiled at her son. She’d named him after his father. Phillip Michael Corvin had given her Michael Phillip Corvin to forever remind her of his love. “Just old and out of breath.”
“Just take it easy. I don’t want to have to carry you out of here.”
He didn’t want to be here, his wife didn’t want him here, and his mother should be at home conserving her strength, but it was her final wish, and he knew she’d go to Egypt with or without him. Because he knew he couldn’t talk her out of going, despite his reluctance, he’d traveled with her to ensure her health and safety.
She smiled. “I’ll be fine.” Huffing out a deep breath, she slowly made her way to the farthest corner of the room. As she knew she would, she found the small hole in the wall and floor, blocked by a steel grate, that opened into another room below.
“That’s the opening Dad found?”
“Yes,” Cheryl murmured. Her son held her elbow as she slowly, carefully, and with difficulty and some pain, knelt before the grate.
This was her first time visiting Egypt. Until now, she’d held out hope that eventually Phillip’s body would be recovered and returned to her, but with her strength diminishing rapidly, she knew she didn’t have much longer to live, and she wanted to visit Phillip’s burial site before she left her mortal coil to be with him.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and she could hear the sadness in his voice.
“So am I.”
Michael knew the story well, how his father had discovered and opened the chamber, only to die in the collapse. Nobody knew what he’d discovered, or what had triggered the failure of the hallway roof, but after careful consideration, it was decided not to try to recover the six bodies out of caution and fear of causing additional damage to the pyramid. His father, along with his five students, would remain buried in Snefru’s tomb for eternity.
He felt for his mother. Today was her and Dad’s fiftieth wedding anniversary, and she’d made the pilgrimage to Egypt to pay her final respects on this day. She’d never remarried after Dad died, and despite years of ceaseless toil, she hadn’t been able to convince the Egyptian government to recover the bodies. Now she was dying, the cancer stealing her vitality, and soon she’d join his father.
“I hear it,” she whispered, her voice achingly sad. “I hear the voices.” She began to weep softly. She’d heard Phillip’s cries of ecstasy several times on their honeymoon as they’d made their love physical, and the quiet wail reminded her so much of his calls of pleasure. “It even sounds like him.”
Michael pursed his lips, fighting his tears as his mother’s loss and pain seemed to fill the room. He’d heard it too, the quiet, faraway cry of men in agony. It was a popular phenomenon with tourists, but he knew it’d been determined years ago, when the ‘voices’ were first heard, it was nothing but an artifact of the room’s acoustics. After the collapse, a small crack had opened in the exterior wall of the pyramid where wind would sometimes whistle through the narrow opening to sound like men wailing or moaning.
He knelt beside his mother, putting his arm around her thin shoulders as she wept. “I’m so sorry, Mom.”
She nodded, but she continued to weep. She and Phillip never had the chance to create memories of a life together. All she had of Phillip was Michael, and the memories of their two years of courtship. She sniffed as her tears began to dry. Michael reminded her so much of Phillip in appearance and attitude.
She pressed two fingers to her lips, kissing them before she pressed them to the metal grate. She held them there for a moment before sniffing again as she patted his leg. “I’ll be alright. Help me up.”
He quickly rose before gently assisting his mother to her feet. Standing, she stared at the opening for a long moment before turning away. She nodded, her face still profoundly sad, though her tears had already dried.
“I’m ready,” she whispered, having done what she’d come to do.
Michael took his mother’s elbow and began escorting her out of the room… the voices of men crying out in pleasure or pain softly echoing in the chamber behind them.
THE END