Marty rummaged through a crate full of DVDs in the tree house that was nestled in his yard in the suburbs of Princeton, NJ. It was monster movie night. Well, more like monster movie day since it was still light out. Eddie had a strict eight o’clock curfew and monster movie day just sounded lame. Marty hung up some thick towels that he took from his house. Just because they had to watch scary movies when it was light out didn’t mean they couldn’t pretend it was at least dark outside. He only hoped his mom wouldn’t figure out that he “borrowed” them. She sort of had this thing with towels, just like Ford in the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.
"Hey, how about Dracula?" Marty said holding up the DVD.
"Too mushy." Steve said, making a face. Because words were never enough for Steve, he got up to demonstrate his point. “Oh my sweet Elizabeta,” he said in his best Count Chocula impersonation while dramatically reaching out to his imaginary partner in the charade. “Blah, blah, my love for you is too much to contain in one lifetime, blah, blah. So much I don’t know if I want to bite you or kiss you, blah, blah, so I will bite your lips off with a kiss, blah, blah.” He then proceeded to devour Elizabeta in grand display by eating his own hand.
Eddie snorted loudly, the four of them cracking up. Steve could always do that. He was the goofball comedian of the group. Marty had grown up with these guys, heck, since preschool. They had been inseparable ever since. Their mom’s were even best friends, which sometimes sucked since they couldn’t get away with anything. Marty couldn’t imagine what his life would be like without them.
After the laughter died down, the only sound that remained was Charlie’s wheezing. Steve grinned even wider, knowing his joke was that good, especially when it meant Charley had to take a puff from his inhaler. Steve always joked that the day Charlie dropped dead would be the day he knew he was a comedic god.
“What about a Vincent Price movie? It doesn’t matter which one, they’re all awesome.” Eddie rummaged through the box.
“Dude, you have an unnatural obsession with black and white movies.” Charley said, his lungs still rattling.
“Yeah but the old one are always the best.” Eddie protested.
“Can’t we just try and stick to this century, just one time?” Charlie pleaded.
Marty dug deeper in the box tossing aside cases while he tried to find the perfect one. Frankenstein was too depressing. Jurassic Park wasn't scary enough. Evil Dead…too scary. Monsters Inc...wait, what? Marty quickly hid that one deep in the box, his face turning bright red.
“How about The Mummy?” Marty asked, looking over his shoulder at his friends, his voice lowered menacingly.
“Mummies are so not scary. I could get away from a mummy just by walking. They’re so slow and if you unravel him it’s all over. They’re totally not on my monster scare-o-meter.” Eddie said.
“Not in this movie.” Marty said. “Have you even seen The Mummy before?”
“I’ve seen that one.” Charley said. “It’s with the guy that played George of the Jungle. Man I love that movie.”
Everyone stopped and stared at Charlie like he had three heads or something. “What?” Charlie asked, dumbfounded.
“Dude, that’s a baby movie.” Steve said.
“Yeah, my sister loves that movie.” Eddie smirked.
“Well she has awesome taste, unlike the rest of you dorks.” Charlie grinned.
“Dude, his sister is four.” Steve shot out each word in a fit of laughter, which got everyone laughing. Everyone except for Charlie.
“I don’t see what’s so funny.” Charlie said, which only made them laugh harder.
“Come on guys, we need to decide on a movie. I vote for The Mummy.” Marty held the DVD up once more. “The mummy isn’t some drag and thump monster, not in this movie at least. He doesn’t even wear bandages. He can do crazy cool stuff like call up these scarab beetles that eat flesh and make a huge sandstorm with his face the size of a building in it.
“That scene is awesome! His mouth opens up like the storm is going to swallow the good guys whole.” Charlie added, gaining back some of his teenage manliness.
“I’m convinced,” Eddie sat down on a plastic yard chair, “bring on The Mummy.”
“Hey Marty your Mummy’s calling you.” Steve said menacingly as he raised his arms and limped towards him.”
“Very funny. Sit down before you hurt yourself.” Marty said as he loaded the DVD.
“No seriously dude, your mom’s calling you.”
Marty went to the window, pulling back the towel. He saw his mother standing just outside the back door to the house.
“Marty, your grandfather wants to talk to you. He's calling from the dig site in Egypt.”
“I’ll be right down mom.” Marty called out.
“Dude that is so cool. We're are about to watch a movie about a mummy on steroids and your grandfather calls now from a real dig in Egypt.” Steve said amazed at the coincidence.
“I know right.” Marty hurried to the trap door and started to climb down the tree.
“See if you mom has popcorn for the movie.” Steve asked.
All the way down the tree Marty could hear his friends chant the movie mantra of popcorn, popcorn, popcorn!
Marty entered through the back door, standing next to his mother who was still talking on the phone. “Of course, I’d love to take a look at it. You mean to tell me you don’t recognize any of the hieroglyphics? Well this could be very exciting. Yes, of course. I’ll be waiting for the package. I’m so happy for you, dad. Here’s Marty, I’m sure he’d love to hear the news.” She handed the phone to Marty.
“Hey grandpa. How’s it going at the dig?”
“Marty,” his grandfather said excitingly, “I found it.”
“Oh my god.” His mother turned to Marty, her cheeks bright pink. “Are those my new towels?”
Marty gulped audibly, smiling at his mom as he crept into the other room before she could give him the look. The look was a mom super power. Even if he wasn’t guilty of anything the look would make him want to confess to doing something wrong. He hated the look.
“Sorry grandpa. What was that you said? What did you find?”
“I found him, Marty. I found Kutkara.”
“Are you serious?”
“Very serious. The sarcophagus is solid gold Marty.”
Marty listened to his grandfather laugh over the phone. He was so happy for his grandfather. He has been obsessed with finding Kutkara for as long as he has been alive, probably even longer than that. Then a strange thought struck him. What will happen now? His grandfather's sole purpose has been finding the tomb of the lost King for so long. Now what? He was sure there would be a lot of work on the dig site and stuff, and then at the museum, but his grandfather was never the type to be cooped up for very long. He was always the one on the adventures.
“That’s awesome grandpa. I wish I could see it.”
“I'll be happy to grant that wish. Everything is going to be at the museum and you get to help me sort through everything.”
“No way!" Marty exclaimed excitedly. "I just can’t believe you really found him.”
“This is a shining moment for the museum. They thought I was crazy, but I showed them. I found him Marty. I found the lost King of Egypt.” The phone began to break up, which was no surprise. The reception was horrible at the dig site.
“Grandpa, I’m losing you.” Marty said, hoping his grandfather could still hear him. “Grandpa?” He waited, listening closely. He could barely hear his grandfather.
“Marty?” His grandfather’s voice sounded far off. That's when he started to hear other sounds, almost like voices. It sounded like someone screaming, but it was hard to make out if it was just his imagination or not. He cupped his other ear so he could hear better, his eyes widening in shock.
It sounded like hundreds of voices screaming, their cries filled with torment. Marty closed his eyes, th
e image of the Botticelli's Map of Hell flashing in his mind, the thousands of souls alive in his mind as they were tortured in the nine layers of the abyss. The screams were so horrible Marty was about to throw the phone down, but before he could move a thundering voice erupted, sending a paralyzing wave of fear through him.
“Marty Boggs," the voice hissed out his name slowly, sounding like shards of glass being dragged across a chalkboard.
He threw the phone away from him in horror. It landed on the floor, the back cover flying off as the battery slid across the floor. And still he could hear the screams and then the horrible laughter. The lights in the house began to flicker as the floor started to tremble. The room went dark. The voice then spoke once more, for Marty's ears alone.
“My time has come and I have found you, Marty Boggs. You are mine.”
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