Then began the long journey to Hamunaptra — deep into the vast, golden heart of the Sahara Desert.
The sun blazed overhead, turning the dunes into rolling waves of molten gold. Heat shimmered across the horizon, and every breath tasted faintly of dust and grit.
Five camels trudged steadily across the sand, their hooves sinking with each slow, rhythmic step. O'Connell led the group, scarf pulled up against the heat, eyes scanning the endless desert ahead.
By the time night finally crept in, the temperature had dropped sharply, and the group was utterly spent. They set up camp on a small rise between the dunes, letting the camels rest after the long, punishing day.
No one complained — mostly because no one had the energy left to. After hours of bouncing in the saddle, even sitting down felt like a small miracle.
The five gathered around the campfire, its orange glow flickering against the cold desert wind. The flames danced in Evelyn's eyes as she straightened her posture, clearly pleased to finally have an attentive audience.
"Why don't I tell something about history since we are all bored?" she offered brightly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
O'Connell shrugged. "Sure, why not?" he said, not realizing what he'd just agreed to.
Jonathan groaned softly. "Oh no… here we go again."
Ignoring him, Evelyn began with an almost scholarly excitement. "You see, Ancient Egypt wasn't just about gold and pyramids — it was also about punishment. And some of those punishments were… well, let's just say they weren't for the faint of heart."
"For example, there was a method called Scaphism — though it's said to be Persian in origin, some late Egyptian dynasties adopted similar tortures. "
"The condemned would be trapped between two hollowed logs, force-fed milk and honey until their body swelled, then left in the sun while insects slowly devoured them alive."
Jonathan's face twisted. "Lovely. Dinner was already hard to digest, thank you."
He'd already struggled through the half-cooked food Evelyn had managed to burn, and now this delightful image made him want to throw up what little he'd forced down
"Oh, that's nothing," Evelyn continued, completely unfazed. "High priests who betrayed the Pharaoh were sometimes mummified alive — their tongues torn out so they could not curse their gods."
Rick blinked, suddenly looking less amused. Evelyn, however, was just getting started — diving deeper into her lecture about the "most dreadful curses of the Old Kingdom," her voice rising and falling with scholarly enthusiasm.
Daniel, at first, tried to stay polite and nod along. Jonathan didn't even pretend — he was already lying back, using his bag as a pillow. Gad was snoring openly, and even Rick, after a few valiant attempts to keep up, finally gave up and leaned against a crate, eyes drooping.
"…and that," Evelyn continued proudly, completely unaware that her audience had vanished into dreamland, "is why desecrating a Pharaoh's tomb was punishable by eternal torment in the afterlife."
Silence.
She glanced around, blinking as she realized the only one awake was the crackling campfire. Jonathan's soft snore cut through the air, followed by Daniel mumbling something about "sand in weird places."
Evelyn sighed, crossing her arms. "Honestly… uncultured men. I try to educate them, and they fall asleep like children."
***
The next day
The morning sun shimmered over the dunes as their caravan trudged through the endless sands.
Evelyn rode beside O'Connell, notebook in hand, her curiosity burning brighter than the sun overhead.
"Mr. O'Connell," she began, adjusting her hat, "since you said you've actually been to Hamunaptra once before — could you tell me what's so special about that place?"
O'Connell squinted against the glare, his scarf drawn high over his face. "There's nothing special about it," he said flatly. "It's cursed. Haunted, if you ask me. The air there feels… wrong. Like the place itself is alive — and waiting."
"Hmmm…" Evelyn hummed thoughtfully, scribbling in her notebook. "So, you also believe there's some mysterious force or… creature protecting it?"
Rick gave a short, humorless laugh. "Believe me, Miss Carnahan — there's something there. I've seen enough to know those old stories weren't made up."
Evelyn smiled politely, though skepticism lingered in her tone. "I'll believe it when I see it. There's always a rational explanation behind every myth. Even Hamunaptra's 'curse' was probably invented to keep tomb raiders away."
Daniel, riding behind them with a smirk, couldn't resist.
"Then be prepared, Evy. You're definitely going to believe it soon enough." He could already picture her running through the ruins, screaming, while a mummy shuffled after her. The image made him chuckle under his breath.
*****
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