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Moonstruck |
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It was three months ago today that he had said good-bye to Collinwood. He missed it, but in a way it was a relief as well. There were too many memories there; too much heartache, sorrow and a feeling of hopelessness that was impossible to shake. Beth had been right when she had once said that Collinwood cast a long shadow, because he could still feel it now, even when he was so far away from home. It was January 29, 1898. Quentin had found Amanda; said his good-byes and was now wondering where to go next. What was he going to do with himself now? He took the stone out of his pocket and inspected it again for what must have been the thousandth time. The night he'd found it he hadn’t noticed the light image of the Eye of Horus etched in the stone. The same image that was on the key he used to open the obelisk; revealing the hidden treasure. He wondered if the other five stones had the same image etched on them as well. 'I like to see all my stories have an ending,' Quentin thought to himself, replacing the stone back in his pocket. After a good night's sleep he was to leave New York. He decided that Egypt was the obvious place to start, and his first stop: Cairo. It was hot – Extremely hot. 'Doesn't Egypt know that it's winter?' thought Quentin. He'd sworn never to return here after everything that happened with Laura. Yet here he was, a mere one year later; a curse richer and a dollar short. Funny how life worked sometimes. Ah yes, Cairo. He remembered it well. This was Egypt's heart; where one could find almost every aspect of Egypt in its museums and landscape, including some of the most famous Pharaonic, ancient Christian and Islamic monuments. He was here to see Pharaonic in particular. He had to admit that Egypt did hold a certain mystique, and for him, an endless fascination. Plus, Egyptians knew how to make some wicked alcoholic beverages that could knock you out for days. His first stop, after the local pub, was the Al-Azhar Public Library, where he hoped to do a little research before going any further. He really didn't know where to start. He had learned some Arabic while here on his last trip, so reading the books wasn’t a problem. The problem was where exactly to look. He read... and read... and read. A week later he had still found nothing, so he decided to make his next stop, the Great Cairo Public Library. A few days later, he finally ran across something of interest. The book was written about Amenhotep II. It stated that he possessed the "sacred stone of freedom" which supposedly possessed some unusual powers, and could, as the name stated, 'set one free'. There was a small picture of a bust of Amenhotep II, with a necklace around his neck. The caption below read that it was on display at the Mukhtar Museum. The book said that attached to the necklace was a stone that is believed to be the freedom stone. Unfortunately, that was all the book said, and it wasn’t much to go on. Still, it was something. He flipped through the rest of the pages, and read that there was an Alabaster Sphinx in Memphis, Egypt that was possibly made in Amenhotep II's honor. The one bad thing about Egypt, Quentin realized, was that nothing was for sure. He could be on the right track… or he could be way off. He just didn’t know. He needed to go take a look at the bust of Amenhotep II. The Mukhtar Museum was built to house the sculptures of Mahmud Mukhtar, one of the great Egyptian sculptures. Ramesses Wissa Wassef designed the building, and it houses eighty-five sculptures made from bronze, stone, basalt, marble, granite and plaster. It took some time, but he finally found the statue he was looking for, Amenhotep II. Sure enough there was an amulet around the busts’ neck. As he inspected the statue closer he noticed the sculpture was made from marble, a lot like the marble he had seen in the maze of tunnels below Collinwood. The only difference was its color, which was pearl with contrasting red and yellow swirls. He didn’t know marble came in those colors; it looked totally unnatural. Perhaps Mahmud Mukhtar did something to the stone to make it look like that? The stone itself was the right size, but had a winged scarab etched into it instead of the eye of Horus. He had the distinct feeling though that it didn’t matter; this had to be a representation of one of the sacred stones. But this was just a statue carved out of a solid block of marble. How was he going to find the stone itself? The winged scarab had a very unique design, and looked disturbingly familiar. He was sure he had seen it somewhere else, but where? Had he seen it in one of the books he'd been flipping through? Just how did Mahmud Mukhtar know what the stone looked like? How did he get the size and the etching if the stone itself was only a myth? Had he heard a description of it before and simply guessed? Did he read about it somewhere? Or had he actually seen the stone himself? The unusual marble he used to make the sculpture was also intriguing. Quentin took out a small pad of paper and wrote down a detailed description of the sculpture. He didn’t want to forget something later that could get him killed. He got a few scrutinizing looks from the security guards, and decided it would probably be best if he went on his way. So, he took one last look around the museum and left with more unanswered questions than answered ones. He wanted to see Mahmud Mukhtar in person, which was a bit more difficult than he had first anticipated. He was quite the celebrity, and was not easy to see. Quentin had no idea where the man lived either, which seemed to be a huge secret. As a matter of fact, he didn’t even know if the man lived in Egypt anymore. With as much money as the man must have had, he could probably live anywhere, or own homes in several countries. Sighing, Quentin decided that now would be a perfect time for a drink… maybe several drinks. After about three brandy’s it suddenly hit him. He had seen that Scarab design in one of the books from the Great Cairo Public Library. He had to go back there and find that book again. If it could give him some clue, he might be able to figure where to go from here. Chapter 2 "Ah, here it is!" Quentin whispered to himself. It was etched into a stone doorway of an ancient Egyptian temple. The temple was not well known, nor was it on any tours, which was kind of odd considering how grand it was. As he started to read about the temple, it became more and more fascinating to him. It was called the "Temple of Hermanubis", and it seems that it was used for some unusual purposes. The Jackal-headed god Anubis was the Egyptian god of death. The god was worshipped back in the first century AS by a cult whose priest wore wolf-like masks. Hermanubis was a representation of the high priest of the Egyptian cult, which was a jackal’s head on the body of a man. The book vaguely described a war against the Roman armies. It seems that the Germanic troops that were recruited into the Roman armies had seen the Cult of Hermanubis during one of their rather unusual rituals. After the fall of the Roman empire the soldiers had spread tall tales about what they had seen, which to them, in the middle of war, were beasts; wolves that walked like a man. This in turn may have inspired legends of men who could assume the form of wolves, the legend of the Werewolf. 'Well, this is news to me.' He'd never actually researched werewolves of the Egyptian kind before now. Could it be possible that the priests were werewolves? Or were they simply dressed as wolves for their rituals? 'I might need to do a bit more research on werewolves after all,' thought Quentin. He had never actually done so, but the knowledge might just come in handy one of these days. After picking out several books on the Egyptian's werewolf legend, Quentin sat down, got comfy and dived in. He found some very amusing ‘facts’ on werewolves... if you could call them that. He particularly liked reading the chapters about how to detect a werewolf. He enjoyed the following passage: "Signs that you or one you know is a werewolf: -Hairy Hands (especially looking for hair on the palms) or Feet. Smirking, Quentin was thankful that he showed none of those signs, and was pretty damn sure any respectable werewolf didn’t. As he continued reading he found another passage which was quite unpleasant: "Becoming a werewolf: -Being bitten 'Disgusting,' Quentin thought to himself. There were a few of those that he would rather not have read, and it almost made him glad that a curse was the reason for his problem. Quentin was suddenly aware of a shadow crossing over the book he was reading. Looking behind him, he saw a stout looking man of average height wearing a long brown robe and hood. The hood hid the man's face in the shadows, so he was unable to make out the mystery man's features. The man just stood there silently, glaring at him, seemingly waiting for Quentin to say something. "What do you want?" Quentin finally asked. The man motioned for Quentin to follow him and started to walk away, toward the doors to the grand library. Quentin knew very well he shouldn’t follow, it would be so stupid to follow this strange man. So, the next thing he knew, he was trailing behind the man as they headed out of the museum. He saw the man walk to the edge of the building and duck into the alley, but by the time Quentin rounded the corner the robed man was nowhere to be found. "Hello?" Quentin called out. He walked down the alley slowly; the only thing he could hear was the sound of his own footsteps. It was beginning to get dark. 'It must be around 6:00pm,' Quentin thought. Noticing that he was breathing heavier than usual, he tried to control the feeling of dread that was coming over him, and slow his breathing back down. The Egyptian cult that he had gotten himself into in Alexandria couldn’t have found him again so soon… could it? After all that had happened, they would be far from happy to see him. But this wasn’t Alexandria, if it was them, what would they be doing here? Deciding that it would not be wise to stay in this dark and deserted alley any longer, he turned around and began to go back the way he came. But before he rounded the corner someone grabbed his shoulder roughly from behind and spun him around. "You have the mark!" the robed man hissed. Chapter 3 "Who are you? What do you mean, ‘I have the mark’"? "You are one of them, you have the mark of Hermanubis!" "The cult?" Quentin asked in confusion, unnerved by the whole situation. "I know what you are and what you seek. I have seen the books you have been reading in the Great Cairo Library. You are an American, Yes?" he asked, his accent thick. "Yes, but... how do you know? What is this about? The ancient cult?" "Correct, but you have much to learn and I cannot teach it to you. You must go to the temple that belongs to the cult of Hermanubis. There you will find answers to some of your questions." "Do you mean that the cult still exists today? I read somewhere that they existed before the fall of the Roman empire," Quentin said, pulling himself from the man's grip on him. "They did, and their descendants still carry on their rituals. The cult lives on. If you want to find a cure for what you and your male descendants suffer from, I believe they can give you an answer… that is, if they want to." "Where can I find this temple? And how do you know so much about me and my affliction?" Quentin asked, increasingly uneasy with how much this man seemed to know about him. "You will find the ancient cult ten miles north of Hermopolis." The man pulled a small folded piece of paper out from under his robe and handed it to Quentin. With that the robed man turned around and walked out of the ally. "Wait!" Quentin called, following after the strange man, but the stranger quickly disappeared into the busy Cairo streets. Quentin unfolded the piece of paper and after looking at it a moment, realized that it was an ancient map of Hermopolis. It seemed that Hermopolis was an ancient Egyptian city in ruins today. A few people still lived in the city, and many made an expedition to study what was left of it. Known to the Egyptians as Khmunu, "The City of the Eight", Hermopolis was the cult center of the Ogdoad; the eight primeval deities who created the world, according to one of several Egyptian traditions. The city was also the seat of the god of wisdom and learning, the ibis-headed moon-god Thoth. Hermopolis was located on the West Bank of the Nile, about midway between Thebes and Memphis. It was the center of a heavily populated district that extended to the west, until it met the Libyan Desert. The map that the stranger had given him was indeed quite old, and showed that Hermopolis used to be much bigger than it was now. Ten miles north of the Hermopolis of today was stood the temple of Hermanubis could be found, and it had once been the center of the city. The good thing was that he could stay in Hermopolis while he was trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Although the city itself was interesting, Quentin particularly wanted to know about this ibis-headed moon god, Thoth. How odd that the cities main god was Thoth…the god of the moon which controlled his destiny and the destiny of his descendants. After arriving in the city, Quentin decided to waste no time before making his first trek to the temple. Unfortunately, the only way he was going to get there was to pack up the stuff he needed and head through the desert to the north… on a camel. Now, Quentin could ride a horse, but a camel? After finding a place where he could "borrow" a camel for a small fee he got set to leave. He attached a pack to the camels behind, and started to lead it out of town. He didn’t want to try and mount it while in town, already having been made fun of when he attempted to get on the camel the first three times. When the camel started chewing on his hair as they reached the outskirts of the city, he was ready to snap. Spinning around to give the camel a piece of his mind he was further humiliated when it spit on him. "I hate camels!" Quentin grumbled to no one in particular as a couple of the locals laughed at his misfortune. Chapter 4 When he finally reached the temple the sun was setting over the horizon casting an orange and red tint across the sky. To Quentin’s dismay, the temple was in ruins and there was no sign of anyone or anything. Even in ruins though, Quentin was awestruck at the sight in front of him. He was looking at the face of a cliff. Inside was where the temple lye. It was two stories into the cliff face, with a column separating each doorway. In front of a few chosen columns where statues of Anubis and what Quentin guest to be Hermanubis and in the center of the structure was a grand stairway that led into the temple. On the ground that lye before the temple where remnants of what must have been large stone pillars which spanned quite a large distance. Right in the middle of this garden of crumbling pillars was a large square stone. It rose about 8 feet high with a circle opening; a moon-gate*. On one side of this moon-gate, the side facing towards the desert had a slab of stone in front of it and reminded Quentin of an alter. The stone was cracking and the stairway and statues where falling apart. This temple must be very old indeed, he thought. Quentin wondered why on earth the man in the robe told him to come here. Deciding it was time for a rest he reached inside his pack and got out some brandy he had brought with him, he definitely needed it at this point. The man was probably just putting him on the entire time sending him on a wild goose chase to nowhere! Sighing he moved himself and his camel to a shady spot, sat down and watch the sun set. Just as the sun was about to go below the horizon Quentin saw a group of horses in the distance, as they approached he noticed that the riders were wearing pelts and some sort of masks. Quentin hid himself and the camel. "Can’t forget the camel," thought Quentin as he took a seat and watched the riders get closer, they were heading straight for the temple. They stopped just before the garden of ancient pillars and dismounted from their horses. As they did so Quentin noted that there were 5 of them and they were all in a row, the person in the exact middle of the five was wearing a full-face mask, which was the head of Anubis. He also wore a large silver pelt that reached all the way to the ground. The others wore half masks that shaped the lower half of their face into a wolf-like snout, covering their nose and mouth. Only their eyes showed, which were also wickedly outlined with eyeliner and looked very Cleopatra-like. Quentin couldn’t tell if they were men, women or both. They walked over to the moon-gate; two of them were carrying sacks with them. One took out a small jug and began to pour a thin line of what appeared to be blue colored sand. At first Quentin couldn’t tell what this person was drawing but as he reached the last point he could see that it was a 5 pointed star… a pentagram. Each of the five stood at the tip of the pentagram, and the person wearing the full head of Anubis placed himself or herself on the top point. It was clear this one was the head of the cult. "Hymn to Iah!" called out the leader, each other member of
the cult followed. They all said in unison. The head of the cult anointed the four corners of the altar with what appeared to be jars of some sort, then took his place at the pentagram once more. "Hail to thee Khonsu! They all shouted in unison. "Hail Hequit! Each one went to the altar and kneeled in turn whispering something Quentin could not hear. Then they once again took their places on the pentagram. "Slay our selves, temper us into that which brings life, mold us into perfection." On of the members reached into their sack and took out a bouquet of flowers and placed it upon the alter. "Drive us to emerge beautiful, perfect, and fragrant with
life!" "Mighty Lady of the Moon, send to us your two chosen children. With them will come the changing of our lives. The sight of your ever-changing countenance guides us through our difficult phases, and encourages us in our own becoming, aid our own evolution so that we may be more than what we are, to achieve what we are not yet able to achieve. Send us your chosen and we will be! We take your example to heart, hearing the wisdom of your silence. We pass through, bearing your light within." They all said in unison. "Arach barak Mut Het-heru" As they finished a light began to appear, the moon was directly in the middle of the moon-gate and it’s light fell straight into the center of the pentagram. "Bring us thy chosen so that we may prosper." They all began to chant in unison. A form began to appear in the center of the pentagram, and as the chanting got louder the form became clearer. Quentin could hear his heart pounding over the sound of the cult’s voices. A fierce wind began to pick-up and whipped around the 5 chanting figures. It howled loudly against the fallen form of the great temple becoming more and more violent as the seconds passed. With the wind came a thick, white fog that seemed to rise from the ground itself and within seconds it was impossible for Quentin to see more than two feet in front of himself. The howling of the wind reached its peak and Quentin covered his ears with his hands, he could stand it much longer. Then suddenly it all stopped. Everything stopped. The wind and chanting was gone, leaving only the suffocating thick, white fog in its wake. Quentin sat still and silent, frozen in the moment... A deathly silence had spread across the ancient temple. Slowly, the fog began to clear and what Quentin saw next was truly unbelievable, even for him. Chapter 5 As the fog cleared the sight before him was absolutely breathtaking. The temple that was in ruins moments before now looked as if it was just built yesterday. The column’s that had crumbled with age now stood tall and sturdy. The statues that where mere shadows of there past beauty were certainly showing it now, with their intricate detail and painting that had worn off in time. It was glorious. Quentin could now see the cult clearly, they where still standing around the pentagram and it looked as if there was one more person than before. Someone standing in the center of the pentagram surrounded by the other members of the cult. "1…2…3…4…5…6, yes!" thought Quentin "There is one more person with them now, there was only 5 before." Shifting in position Quentin tried to get a better look at the person inside the pentagram but to no avail. Frustrated, Quentin decided the best thing to do was to stay put and see what happens. They seemed to be chanting something and from the little that he could see it looked as if the figure in the middle was touching the forehead of each cult member in turn. The light of the full moon cast a eerie glow on the bizarre scene unfolding in front of him, it almost seemed like that was the only way it could be seen – under the light of the full moon. After what seemed like an eternity one of the cult members stepped off the pentagram, then the next person to the right of him did the same and the rest followed suit until they formed a loose circle around the figure in the middle. Getting a glimpse of the person now he could see that it was the lean figure of a young woman with blonde hair and a long white dress. Quentin’s heart skipped a beat at the frightening possibility of it being her…Laura. As she turned around and he could see her face a flood of relief filled Quentin. It wasn’t Laura, but his relief was short lived because as he stared at her face he realized she looked very familiar. Quentin couldn’t quite figure out just who it was but it felt like he should know. The head of the cult went up to the woman and said something in a whispered tone and bowed before her feet. She nodded and then turned around and looked straight in the direction where Quentin was hidden. "Please don’t see me, Please don’t see me!" Quentin’s mind screamed. If they caught him now there was no telling what they would do to him. The woman lifted her arm and pointed straight to Quentin’s hiding place. "Oh God" Suddenly an image flashed into Quentin’s mind. It was a picture from one of the family albums back at home, a picture of his brother Edward around the age of 6 sitting on his Grandmother Edith’s lap. Quentin’s mother and father were standing behind Edith and Edward, holding hands. Edith was much younger then and Quentin remembered commenting on how pretty she used to be. Quentin had particularly liked the picture though because it included both his parents together. "No, it’s not possible…it can’t be her!" Chapter 6 Shaking himself out of him reverie Quentin took a second look. Yes, there was no denying it. It was definitely she. Looking at her he suddenly realized that not only was she looking straight at his hiding place, so was every other member of the cult. "I think it’s time to get out of here. Camel, what do you think?" Looking over his shoulder at the camel it dawned on him that there was no way it was going to outrun the horses the other cult members possessed. Quentin mentally cursed himself for not spending a little more money and getting a horse. Sighing softly Quentin thought, "Well, maybe they don’t know I’m here. Maybe they are staring at something else…" Just then Quentin felt the tip of a sharp object against the middle of his back. "Figures." Quentin thought to himself. "Stand up, put your hands behind your head and turn around." Doing what he was told Quentin turned around and got a close look at one of the 5 cult members, perhaps a little closer than he would have liked. He could now see that the masks were made out of real fur and were a full head piece, even reaching out over their ears making them pointed like a wolfs. "Did you think that we didn’t know you were here watching us the entire time? Really, we are not that blind…Quentin." The man asked with a clearly Egyptian accent. He was holding a dagger that reminded Quentin of "The Dancing Lady" Aristede once pulled on him. Well, maybe more than once but that was beside the point. He didn’t want to see how that would feel buried in his chest. "How did you know my name?" "Oh, we know all about you, we have been watching you for quite some time now." "Wh—What? What do you mean and why don’t any of you speak Egyptian or Arabic instead of English?" asked Quentin doubtfully. "We knew you were watching, hiding somewhere amongst the pillars and we wanted you to understand everything that was said this night." "Why would you care if I understood or not? What’s this all about?" "Come with me, everything will be explained to you soon. This is not the place for it and I am not the one who is going to tell you about it." "Who? Who is going to be the one to tell me?" Quentin asked as fear crept through his heart. "I think you know Quentin." With that he took a rope out from under his robe and tied Quentin’s hands behind his back, then continued to lead him towards the rest of the cult…and towards her. Chapter 7 As Quentin reached the cult her back was turned towards him. "I knew you’d come Quentin. If I wasn’t sure that you were the one before I certainly am now." She said. Slowly she turned around and gave Quentin a warm smile. "Well, aren’t you happy to see me Quentin?" "No, It can’t be! Grandmama, your dead!" Quentin said, shocked at the sight of his Grandmother Edith standing before him looking for the entire world like a young woman in her late twenties. "Yes I died but dead I am not my dear." "How is this possibly Grandmama? I saw your body in its casket. Edward and Judith went to your funeral. They saw you buried!" "But you didn’t did you Quentin? You were to frightened and guilt ridden to come but I have seen what you have been through and what has happened, I know you have grown since I last met you." "Really? Just when you think you’ve stopped growing…" At Quentin’s last remark Edith let out a light chuckle. "I think you know what I mean. Its nice to see you still have your sense of humor though Quentin. You know you were the only one in the family who ever did acquire one…except for your mother. You see… that is where you get it. Your sense of humor, and your blue eyes." Smiling she continued as Quentin listened, he just couldn’t believe that he was here in Egypt talking to his dead or used to be dead Grandmother. "I think that is why your mother and I liked you the most. You were always her favorite and mine." "I was?" "Yes, for many reasons. One of which is why you are here now." "Why *am* I here now?" "I think we should talk alone and without the restraints. Come, let’s go inside." "Inside? You mean inside the Temple of Hermanubis?" "Of course." Edith said calmly, leading the way. In the meantime Quentin’s mind was working over-time trying to figure out what all of this means…and just why he was wanted here. "Maybe this is just a dream." Quentin said to himself not realizing he had actually said it out loud. Edith laughed, startling Quentin. "Would you like me to pinch you?" "Yes… ouch! Well, you could at least give me a little warning before you do that!" "Oh, you do amuse me so." "Well, I am happy someone in the family feels that way." Reaching the stairway that led to the temple made Quentin realize just how grand a structure it actually was. The stairway must have been over 40 feet wide and ascended a good 60 feet up into the cliff face. The architecture and statues were impressive as well. Although the statues reminded Quentin of Gargoyles that perched in the shadows of large buildings they were showing their full glory under the cascading glow of the full moon…it was almost as though it was built just to be marveled at under the soft moonlight. He couldn’t imagine seeing it any other way. "It’s as if it was made for the moonlight," Quentin told Edith softly. "That’s because it was." At the top of the stairway Quentin stopped walking. The large opening before him was pitch dark and looked so ominous. He didn’t want to go inside, he had no idea what he might find in such a place and the possibilities were terrifying. Chapter 8 "Come Quentin, once we go inside we will have light." Entering cautiously Quentin followed his Grandmother into the Temple of Hermanubis. "Stay here" Edith whispered as she went over to a corner of the room. Quentin stood there waiting anxiously as he heard her fiddling with something for a moment. Suddenly the room was filled with a soft light. Looking over at his grandmother he noticed she was positioning a mirror, casting his gaze upward Quentin noticed there was a large shaft that opened up to the sky. The pale light that had cascaded into the small room was reflecting off several mirrors positioned in appropriate places throughout the room. "It works better in the day when the sun is bright but if you catch the full moon when it’s in the right position in the sky it is possible to get a little light. Torches mostly light the temple with the exception of a few rooms lit by the light of the moon or sun." Edith explained to Quentin at his questioning glance in her direction. She walked over to him and removed the restraints around his hands. "She was being far to nice, Edith was never this nice before." Quentin thought to himself. "Please Grandmama, don’t keep me in suspense any longer. Tell me what all this is about and why I am here." "Very well, how much do you know already?" "A strange man in Cairo told me that if I came here I might be able to find a cure to my curse." Quentin started to explain until Edith interrupted him. "A cure to what Quentin?" "I thought because you were here you knew about it! Your ‘confidant’, the gypsy Magda, cursed me and all my male descendants to become…" Taking a deep breath he decided just to tell her and get it over with "…Werewolves, when the moon is full." The reaction he got from his grandmother next was the one thing he wasn’t prepared for. She started to laugh. As Edith continued to laugh in front of a very startled Quentin Collins she exclaimed, "My dear, the werewolf is a gift not a curse! The cult of Hermanubis has been attempting to transform the way you have for century upon century with little or no success. I can’t imagine what they would do if they had heard what you just said to me. Perhaps you should keep that to yourself." "Why in god’s name would they want to turn into wolves? How could they see that as anything but a curse?" Quentin could not understand why they would want something like that. "The cult of Hermanubis believes that man has lost more than he has gained. With each passing year they become more and more distant to nature. Instead of following his instincts he ignores them and in turn becomes weaker. But the cult believes that what is lost in always there to regain and that is what they intend to do. You my dear are the key." "Why do they have to change into the form of a wolf to achieve
what they want?" Quentin asked her. "That’s insane." "Maybe to you but who are you to judge them? They have been around
for centuries and you? A mere lifetime, their goal is to create a new
race. A race which they believe will be perfect in every way." "What?" "She only did what I told her to do." "What are you talking about?" "Perhaps I should start from the beginning, yes?" "That would be nice Grandmama." "You see, it all started with your namesake. You’re great uncle Quentin Collins. He had developed an interest in the occult of Egypt, ordering several rare books on the subject. After he was through with them he would hide them in a unused portion of the West Wing thinking nobody knew about his rather unusual hobby but I had known for some time. I was young and bored so when he would finish with them and hid them away I would go and read some of them. The more I read the more interested I became and I started to understand why it had become such an obsession with your great uncle. So, one night I decided to try a little black magic of my own." |
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