Mask of the Jackal
(Excerpt from Chapter 5.)
I stand perfectly still and listen. There are no footsteps. No voices. Who's in here? It's not Ralph. He'd call out. Besides, he clears his throat all the time.
A creepy idea enters my head. This other person, this presence, is also waiting for a sound. From me.
There are three mummified bodies in this basement. They're thousands of years old. They can't hurt me. Yet pictures flash into my mind of skin torn from faces, of gaping holes where mouths should be.
I feel prickly sweat break out all over me. My scalp tingles.
People in Ancient Egypt believed their spirits survived death.
In the afterlife, each heart was weighed to test if that person had lived a good life. If the heart weighed less than a feather, the person could live forever. If it was too heavy, the heart was given to Ammut.
I imagine what she’d look like with her crocodile’s head. The front of her body was leopard and the back, hippopotamus. Ammut was known as the 'Eater of the Dead'.
It's only a myth. Not real. And yet, I have a strong urge to get out of this basement. Now.
If I run, the intruder will hear me. I take a deep breath to steady my pounding heart.
The first step is the hardest. It's difficult to breathe, and my feet feel as heavy as bricks.
I edge towards the door, then stop at a large packing crate to peek around it. There are only more crates and spilt packing straw.
Finally, I reach the door and turn the handle, hoping the hinges won't squeak and give me away.
I slip outside into the corridor. And run.
Pounding footsteps smash the silence. Someone's behind me!...
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