1888 Amenti
This short story was made using the solo RPG: 1888 Amenti, by Mundos Infinitos.
Rolls:
- 4: Running from the Law
- 3-2-3-2-4: one Burning Day, you arrive at Stone Ruins. A Snake watches you. You pass the trial
- 4-3-2-1-3: one Eternal Twilight, you notice a Scorpion and a Snake traveling together. You pass the trial
- 2-2-1-2-1-2: one Burning Day, you see a Jackel and a Scorpion fighting amid an Antelope’s carcass. You fail the trial
- Final result: Wake up rescued with a new conviction
Day 1
Damn my fingers, I never thought I’d write a journal like this. Not one for writing, me. Spent my life doing a bit of this and a bit of that, as they say. Never caught. Was always proud of that, nothing could ever get pinned on me. Now, here I am in the middle of the desert. Nothing but sand and wind. Going to die here, so might as well put down my life on paper. Some fool thing to do before the sun cooks me alive.
My name was Robert Chickering, though I never used it much. Always a different name, me. Took what I needed when I could from those who had too much, and kept what I had from those who wanted it. Traveled around a lot, from the Americas to Europe and even further east. Managed to always stay one step ahead of the law, got while the getting was good.
Then I got stupid. Doesn’t matter how, but saw the only way out was join the Foreign Legion. Did that, got sent down to Africa, and skipped out first chance I got. Figured I could keep my head down, follow the map, use my compass, and get to the next village in two days. Figure out what to do from there.
Didn’t count on the sandstorm. Lost the map. Lost my way. Don’t have anything but my compass, my canteen, this paper, and a blanket with a bit of metal caught in it. Must have torn itself when I jumped out of the car. I’ve covered myself in the blanket to keep out the sun. Not much chance of living.
Metal’s sharp. Been considering what would hurt more, dying of thirst or bleeding out into the sand. Got maybe a day of water, maybe less. Maybe I’ll just start walking.
If I die, and anyone finds my carcass, don’t weep too much for me. I never did much worth singing over.
Day 3
I’ve been seeing things. Started walking east, according to the compass. I thought that was the right direction, but I don’t see anything like a village. The sun is frying my brain. I keep thinking I see this man off in the distance to the North. I called to him, and he wasn’t there anymore. Maybe it was a woman? Hard to tell. Climbing these dunes is hard as hell, and I get tired damn quick. I took my last drink of water today, but if there’s someone there, I’ll keep walking. They must have water.
Strange. The Sun doesn’t hurt my eyes much any more. I keep thinking something’s watching me. Must be that man.
Day 4
Didn’t sleep much last night. Got damn cold. Figure that, cold in the desert. Wrapped myself in my blanket, and tried to ignore how thirsty I was. Spent all my time looking at the moon. After a while, it felt like the damn thing was looking back.
Still walking east, I climbed a dune and fell down the other side. Almost cracked my head on a sharp rock. Took another look, and it was no rock, but part of a stone pillar. Fool me, I went and thought I was lucky — found somewhere with proper shade, right? Could get my head back and stop seeing things.
Found a shady spot, under what might have been a doorway, once, half buried in the sand. Started to dig a bit, get the place wider for me to hid in, and damn near put my hand on the biggest viper I ever saw. Scared the piss out of me, it did. I fell back into the sand, and scrambled away, but the snake didn’t move. I knew better than to mess with a snake, so I kept well away.
Couldn’t find much shade anywhere else. Found some stone pillars covered by sand, a few rocks that looked like they might have been walls. They still got carvings on them, pictures of Egyptians, I guess, though they don’t look like the pictures I seen in museums. There are pictures of animals, people, and people with animal heads. Lots of snakes, too. Snakes and dogs and birds.
That snake is still there. I can see it staring at me, like it’s waiting for me to do something. Must be, right? Must take a lot to survive in the desert, even more than the streets of civilization. That’s all I was doing, really. Surviving. Can’t blame the snake for biting, can I?
Well, the snake ain’t doing me good now.
I ain’t a spiritual man. I ain’t a fool. I been in the sun too long, and that’s a fact, but damn my eyes if what I saw didn’t happen.
I figured it was kill or die. All a matter of survival, right? What keeps you alive is what keeps you going, and that snake wasn’t doing me any good keeping me from my shade, so I reached into that shade and pulled the snake right out of there. I grabbed it behind its head and pulled as hard as I could. Thing must have wedged itself between a crack or something, because the damn snake wouldn’t come out. It was thrashing around, coils hitting my arm, but it was like pulling out my own tongue. But I kept pulling and tugging and finally, as god is my witness, I pulled it thrashing and squirming into the light.
I thought it would bite me, but it’s mouth didn’t open, not once. It looked at me like it knew me, like the damn thing was my pet. It kept thrashing, and I took that small piece of metal, the bit that tore my blanket, that came from the car, and I pushed it right between the snake’s eyes, like I was pinning a corsage. Pinned the damn thing’s mouth closed.
I could feel my heart beating, the sun beating down on my head. Everything spun as I dragged myself to the shade and crawled inside. I curled up like I was the snake and stared out into the light of the sun.
I could see the dead snake lying there in the sand. Its body twitched once or twice before laying still, like a rubber hose. I stared at it for hours, maybe. I could feel the cool shade seep into my body, the heat from the sun slowly fading away. The world stopped spinning and my heart stopped thumping like a train engine. The sand hurt my eyes, it was so white, glittering like ice.
I must have slept, but I don’t remember sleeping. When I opened my eyes, the snake was right there, alive again, staring me full in the face. The metal shard stuck out from its forehead like a horn, and its eyes locked with mine. We stared at each other for hours, it must have been, and then I blinked and it was back there on the sand, dead as dust.
It was dark, and my head was clearer, so I crawled out from the cranny and looked at the corpse, cooked in the sun and sand. I never tasted snake before, but you gotta do strange things to survive.
Day 5
Saw the figure again today, this time to the east. Had an easier go of it, feeling stronger after eating the snake. I must be dilerious, because the sun doesn’t feel as hot today. Still thirsty as anything, but the sand-dunes seem gentler.
Didn’t see anything else the whole day. Nothing but sand and wind and the sun. As the day grew longer, so did my shadow. Before long, I stopped looking at my compass. Started to wonder if I wasn’t just following my shadow anymore. Is that who this figure was? Is it me in the future? Maybe the sun finally cooked my brain, and I didn’t feel it because I was a day behind, trying so hard to catch up.
When dusk hit I shot the sun a mean old glare over my shoulder and told it good riddance. I wasn’t going to lie down and sleep yet. Still felt strong enough to keep going, even without my shadow.
But my shadow was still there. Kept following it for miles, seems like, in the last light of the sun. Kept looking back at it, waiting for it to dib below the horizon, but it didn’t. It was like a damn kid peeking over a fence, staring at me, watching me.
I was just about to turn around and give it what for when my shadow fell on a bit of moving sand. Thought I was seeing things again, but as I watched a little black scorpion crawled out of the sand.
It crawled east, the same way I was going, so I followed it for a ways. I looked back at the sun, still sitting there, watching us walk. When we got over the next dune, I could see something at the bottom, a dark lumpy shape half hidden in the sand.
When we got to the bottom, I could see what it was — snake bones, the charred flesh and skin still clinging to it. It was the same carcass of the snake I had eaten and tossed aside. The ruins weren’t around, so it couldn’t have been, but I knew it was.
The scorpion poked and nipped at the bones, grabbing and pulling at them until the bones were free from the sand. There was no denying it then — the hole where the metal shard pierced its skull was still there, though the shard was nowhere to be seen. The scorpion stretched out its tail and plunged its stinger into the snake’s head, right where the hole was. It struck again and again, three times while I watched. Then it waited.
We both waited, and watched.
The snake bones began to twitch. The bits of skin quivered and stretched. A wind that came from nowhere moved the snake about like a broken windchime, and I watched as the snake came back to life, whole and un-burned.
The snake and the scorpion looked at me, and then both began to leave, heading north.
Me, I should have been scared, maybe, or just let them go. Should I have been in awe of the miracle I had seen, but the sun — the sun…
I wasn’t letting the scorpion get away. I reached out my hand for it, maybe to grab it or to beg, I don’t know, but it stung me all the same. Quick and sharp, like a needle. Like a bullet.
I laughed as they moved away, the snake and the scorpion. I started to dance in the last light of the sun, hooting and hollering like a kid. I waved my hand as I felt the pain burn down my insides, towards my heart. I slipped and fell and rolled down the dunes, getting sand in my mouth. It tasted like sugar.
My body started to move without me. My hand twisted and spasmed, then my arms, then my legs. My heart stopped beating and my neck started to jerk back and forth. I fell on the sand, then fell up again. I jerked and danced my way all around the dunes, laughing and crying and screaming and singing.
The sun watched it all.
Day 6
I don’t know who I am any more.
Do I even know who I was? I don’t feel like that anymore. I feel stronger, faster, like everything is clearer now. The dunes aren’t just white, they’re green and red and blue and purple. The winds don’t just push, but they also speak to me, telling me secrets from far away. I have memories of who I was, but they seem so far away now, like memories of when I was a child.
So much pain, so much noise, so many things layered on like clothing. Now I know I can take them all off, leave them on the side of a dune, and run free from it all.
I can feel the sun on my skin, covering me like a burning breeze. I know who it is now, and why they’ve been watching me. I understand why I’m here, and what I did when I pulled the snake from its burrow and sealed its mouth shut. I know why they sent the scorpion, and why I’m following the figure. I don’t know who the figure is, but that’s okay. I’ll find out soon enough, at the end of it all.
I’m moving much faster now, like wind over waves. The dunes dance for me now, my brothers and sisters. They guide me and shelter me. I don’t even feel thirsty anymore, though my lips feel like paper and my skin like leather. I am becoming something new.
I knew this as I crested the last dune, and saw the bones of the dead animal. It had spiraling horns twice as long as its skull, and four hooved feet like a goat’s. I could see a jackel, dancing back and forth around the ribs, its teeth snapping and paws batting the air.
It wasn’t until I got closer that I could see the scorpion hiding in the antelope’s ribs, skittering back and forth, waving its tail like a sword.
I knew who the jackel was, what he was trying to do. All around me I could hear the chorus of the sun’s rays, pushing me onwards. I stepped forward, a primal howl building in my throat. With the strength of the serpent in my body, I tore one of the spiraling horns from the skull and drove it through the chest of the jackel. I lifted the body high over my head, feeling the blood rain on my face, before driving the jackel’s body to the sand, pushing the horn deeper into its heart.
The deed done, I flung my arms wide, calling to the choral sunlight. Where the words came from, I do not know. “Serket,” I cried, “I have torn Apep from my throat and ate his flesh. I have felt your sting and danced for your pleasure. Now I have saved you from Anubis’s jaws. Come see what I have done for you, and feast with me!”
It was not until I turned, expecting to see a godly shape where the scorpion once scuttled, that I saw my folly. I had, in my eagerness to slay the jackel, crushed the ribs of the antelope down on the scorpion’s back. The poor thing was dead, crushed beneath my weight.
I sank to the sand and wept like a child. I wept over the scorpion, the jackel, and myself.
Day 10
I do not know what to write. Surely, I cannot write what I have seen or experienced, but my memory is so clear as if it happened yesterday. False visions do not linger like this. Not in the human mind.
I don’t even know how to start…but I must. I have to write this down. Damned if I know why.
I’m getting stronger. The villagers say they found me three days ago, off my head on heat-stroke. I had managed to collapse not a mile away from their village, on the path they use to head to the next town over. Lucky me, I guess.
Looking back over what I’ve written, so much of it seems like a dream. It was probably a hallucination, brought on by dehydration and the sun, but damned if it didn’t feel real at the time.
I guess I should write what happened after the scorpion. I don’t remember falling asleep, or waking up. I just remember walking north, following the figure. I could barely see it through the haze and the heat, but it was always there, just on the horizon.
I could scarcely believe it when I realized it was getting closer. I started to run, ignoring the burning fire on my skin from the sun’s scorching rays. I must have been sunburned all to hell, but I didn’t feel it. I just kept running.
It wasn’t a person at all, it was a pillar made of some kind of stone or metal. It was so smooth and it stuck out of the sand like a sundial. It was covered in pictures, like hieroglyphs, and every time I looked the pictures were different. I touched the stone, and for a moment I felt far away and indistinct, like I wasn’t where I was, but on the same horizon as the figure had been.
I circled the monolith, brushing at the pictures and letters, until the monolith stood between me and the sun. In its shadow, I saw the pictures move and dance like smoke from a campfire. Strange silhouettes stared at me from behind the stone, and I suddenly wondered if I was looking through the monolith at the sun.
It was then all my strength gave out. I fell to my knees as my hunger and thirst returned ten times as strong as before. I stared into the burning eyes of light. I felt myself wither away, crumbling before the might of the desert.
They spoke to me, each in turn. I don’t remember who they were or what they said. I knew that I had done something wrong, but I couldn’t explain. I was being judged for…it wasn’t for my crimes. I’ve done things that hurt people, but I’ve done kind things too. You know, I gave Sandra money to help with rent back in New York, I’ve given people cigarettes and change when they ask for it. I’m no saint, but I’m no damned soul either.
And they knew that. No, they were — I don’t know.
But I remember the last one. He or she or maybe it looked down at me from the top of the monolith, and said something to me I’ll never forget. It opened my lips and water fell from its eyes into my dry mouth. It brushed my cheek and it said “You’re not alone.”
Damn me, I near spat the water back at it, but for some reason I believed it. I believed then and there that I wasn’t alone. I’ve been alone my whole damn life, and now I’m here thinking I’m not alone anymore.
These villagers have been nothing but kind to me. They could have left me to die, and it wouldn’t have cost them anything…but they didn’t. They couldn’t. I wonder.
There’s other people out there, you know. People I’ve never seen who have friends and family and love each other. Never really thought about them before, those people I’ll never meet. Maybe some of them will cross by the way I’ve come. Maybe most of them will.
I never really thought about the people who’ll come after me. They’ll meet the people I’ve met and they’ll see the footprints I left. I never really thought about leaving a place better than I found it. Never had the chance. Never had enough. I was always just scraping by, but maybe we’re all just scraping by. Maybe if we scrape by together, we won’t have to scrape so hard.
I’m still weak, still sick. Who knows. Maybe I’m still delerious.
I wonder what I’ll think about when I’m back in civilization, and I look up at the sun?
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