Supernatural--Children of Anubis

by Tim Waggoner

  Kayla was horrified. She’d never struck another member of her family, let alone an Elder. But she’d done what was necessary. Her parents, sister, and brother were out there, fighting werewolves. They needed all the help they could get.

  Muriel moaned in pain, but she didn’t rise. Her grandmother would heal quickly, but Kayla hoped she would stay down long enough for her to wake Anubis. Kayla hurried to a far corner of the room and put Joshua down gently. “Lie still. This won’t take long,” she whispered.

  She hurried back to the elixir. It was still bubbling, but she saw several dark splotches on the surface of the liquid. Some of Muriel’s blood had fallen into the bowl. She felt a stab of fear. The elixir had to be prepared with exact ingredients in precise proportions, in the proper order, or it would not work. Blood was part of the formula, yes, but was there now too much? Was this batch of Awakening elixir spoiled?

  She heard howling. She thought of her family falling before the claws and fangs of the werewolves, their blood splashing onto the asphalt.

  “Screw it,” she said. She was still afraid to become Anubis’s vessel, but she was more afraid of what the iwiw might do to her family.

  She picked up the bowl, ignoring the hot metal burning her fingers, and hurried to Anubis’s side. Holding the edge of the bowl to the small space between the bandages around his mouth, she began to pour. As she did, she spoke the words of the rite as quickly as she could, rushing through the ancient Egyptian phrases.

  “Great Anubis, son of Nephthys and Set, Lord of the Sacred Land, Protector of the Dead, Guardian of Eternal Shadow. As we serve you, we now beg you to serve us. Rise from the never-ending darkness in which you dwell. Cast off the shackles of sleep, open your eyes, rejoin the land of the living, and let the world once more know your dread might.”

  She wasn’t sure she got all the words right, but they were close enough. Some of the elixir spilled, soaking the bandages around Anubis’s mouth, but she got most of it into him. She prayed it would be enough. She felt energy gathering in the room, the air crackling with power, like the atmosphere just before a huge thunderstorm broke.

  Anubis drew in a deep breath and she could hear his heart begin to pound.

  “Child, what have you done?”

  Kayla opened her eyes and saw Muriel rise to her feet. She was unsteady, but her face was already healing, and she remained upright.

  She shot Kayla a reproachful look before stepping to the table and addressing Anubis in ancient Egyptian. “Mighty Anubis, I beg your forgiveness. In her fear, my granddaughter rushed the Rite of Awakening. Great Dark One, return to your slumber. All is—”

  Muriel’s body went rigid, her features slack. She shifted into jakkal form, and her eyes burned with crimson light. Anubis had possessed her.

  Kayla stood face to face with her god, and in her shock, she dropped the bowl that had contained the elixir. It clanged as it hit the floor and the noise started Joshua crying. She barely noticed. She couldn’t take her gaze off Muriel. She could feel the power emanating from her grandmother’s body, and it was all she could do not to whimper in fear. She went to her knees and bowed low, forehead touching the floor, hands stretched out before her.

  Despite her fear, she did her best to speak clearly and distinctly in Egyptian. “My lord, thank you for answering our call. Your children have need of your strength and wisdom.”

  She waited for Anubis to respond in her grandmother’s voice, but she said nothing. After a moment, Kayla cautiously lifted her head and looked up at Muriel. Her grandmother gazed down at her with crimson eyes, but her face remained devoid of expression. She sensed that something wasn’t right, but she didn’t know what it could be. She knew she’d made some mistakes while conducting the Rite of Awakening, but it had worked, hadn’t it? Anubis had possessed Muriel instead of her, but he had awakened. He was here and ready to help. Maybe he was simply waiting to hear what needed to be done.

  She rose up on her knees to address her god.

  “Our family is under attack by a pack of iwiw. You must kill them—kill them all!”

  Muriel continued looking at her without expression, and Kayla began to worry that something was wrong with Anubis’s mind. Was the connection between his spirit and Muriel’s body somehow faulty? But then Muriel smiled, revealing her sharp jakkal teeth, and she nodded once to show that she understood Kayla’s words. Kayla felt a wave of great relief. Her family would be safe now. Anubis would see to it.

  Muriel placed her right hand on top of Kayla’s head as if bestowing a blessing upon her. At first Kayla smiled, and she placed her hands atop her grandmother’s. Then Muriel’s red eyes glowed and Kayla began to age rapidly.

  Kayla realized then what she had done. I said Kill them all. All—including me.

  Kayla’s skin became dry as parchment, rough as lizard hide, and she lost weight, her body thinning until she was little more than a skeleton. Her clothing aged too, colors fading, edges fraying. She tried to scream, but all that came out of her mouth was a blast of dust. No, not dust, Kayla realized. Sand. And with that last thought, Kayla collapsed in upon herself, leaving nothing but a mound of sand.

  * * *

  Through Muriel’s eyes, Anubis looked on the pile of sand that had been his vessel’s granddaughter. He felt no sorrow over the girl’s death. Her instructions had been clear: Kill them all. Anubis intended to do just that. He began to turn toward the chamber’s door when he heard a baby crying. He stopped and turned in the direction of the sound. The child—an iwiw child, from its scent—lay on the floor in a corner of the room, face red, tiny hands balled into fists as it cried. Anubis could smell the child’s frustration and fear. More than that, he could feel the life blazing strong and bright inside the child’s small form.

  Kill them all.

  He took a step toward the child, then hesitated. The girl had said something else, hadn’t she? He tried to remember, but it was difficult. His thoughts were chaotic, circling around in his head like a swarm of buzzing insects. She had said something about her family being under attack, hadn’t she? By… iwiw. Yes, that was it. His children needed him, and the baby—while iwiw—was not the biggest threat. He would return for it later, when the others had been dealt with.

  Kill them all.

  Anubis turned and walked toward the wall. He raised fists now imbued with the strength of a god and smashed through as easily as if the wall was made of tissue paper. Plaster, wood, and brick burst outward and he stepped through the hole he had created into the night. He scented the air, and then he began running toward the southeast section of the park, where Greg and Morgan were stationed.

  * * *

  Dean, Sam, Garth, Nathan, and the two remaining zombies ran through the park. They were joined by three other jakkals—a man, and two women: one older, one younger. Members of Nathan’s pack, of course. Nathan quickly introduced them, and the jakkals accepted their presence without question. Dean guessed that if Nathan—a pack Elder—ran with them, it was the same as vouching for them. Or maybe the other jakkals were too worried about the werewolves to care about the hunters.

  Nathan slowed as they approached a round building with white brick walls and a black roof. A faded sign above the entrance said PARK ADMINISTRATION. He opened the door and hurried inside, the zombies and jakkals following close behind.

  Dean turned to Sam as they entered the building. “Remind me not to run behind a pair of naked zombies again,” he said. “Too much jiggling.”

  Everyone followed Nathan into a room containing a long table, shelves stocked with stone jars, a burning brazier, and a very large hole in the wall. Lying on the table was an honest-to-Chuck mummy, eight feet tall, with pointed ears and a pronounced snout. A dog-mummy, Dean thought. Now there’s something you don’t see every day.

  Garth nodded towards the hole. “Now we know where the sound came from,” he said.

  “Anyone want to tell us what busted through this wall?” Dean asked. He pointed at the mummy. “
We know it wasn’t this guy. Unless he decided to take a nap when he was finished.”

  Dean’s words cut through the jakkals’ grief. Nathan turned to look at him.

  “For untold generations it has been my pack’s duty and privilege to guard our god, the great Anubis.” He gestured toward the mummy. “To keep him slumbering when times are good, and to call upon his strength when times are bad.”

  “Like when a pack of less-than-neighborly werewolves decides to pay a visit,” Dean said.

  Nathan nodded. “My wife Muriel has become Anubis’s vessel, and he has gone forth to do battle with the iwiw. I assume my granddaughter Kayla accompanied her, but I don’t know why she left Morgan’s brother behind. Perhaps to keep him away from the fighting.”

  Marta went over to pick up Joshua, but then she inhaled deeply and frowned.

  “Something’s wrong,” she said.

  The other jakkals began scenting the air, as did Garth. The other granddaughter, Erin, was the first to speak.

  “Kayla,” she said. She pointed to a pile of what looked like sand lying on the floor.

  “No,” Marta said, looking at the sand with a horrified expression. Her husband Efren went to her and put an arm around her shoulder, just as upset as she was.

  “I don’t understand,” Dean said.

  Garth nodded to the pile of sand. “That’s what’s left of Nathan’s other granddaughter.”

  Dean and Sam regarded the sand, and Dean realized what had happened.

  “Anubis did that to her,” he said.

  “Yes,” Nathan said, his voice filled with sorrow.

  “I thought Anubis was supposed to protect you,” Sam said.

  “He is,” Nathan said. “I don’t understand what happened. Perhaps something went wrong with the Rite of Awakening, and Anubis isn’t thinking clearly.”

  Dean turned to Sam. “This case started out simple, but now we have to stop an ancient Egyptian god who isn’t picky about who he kills.” He looked at Nathan. “Does Anubis have any specific weaknesses? A special way to kill him?”

  The jakkals, although all in human form, started growling.

  “Anubis may have killed my child, but he is still my god,” Marta said. “He is eternal and cannot be killed.”

  That’s what they all say, Dean thought. He looked at Sam. “You know any lore about Anubis?”

  “Not much. I’ll see what I can find online.”

  Sam took out his phone and began typing. He scanned the results of his Internet search for a few minutes. When he was finished, he looked up. “I didn’t find anything useful. I posted on a few mythology message boards asking about any weaknesses Anubis might have, and I set up automatic alerts if I get any replies.” Sam slipped his phone back in his pocket. “Until then, we’ll just have to improvise.”

  “What else is new?” Dean said. “Let’s saddle up. Looks like we’re going god hunting.”

  “Your favorite sport,” Sam said.

  Dean made a sour face. He hated fighting gods. As far as he was concerned, they were nothing but another kind of monster, only with delusions of grandeur. They pretended to be something they weren’t so they could take advantage of their worshippers. They were the con artists of the supernatural world.

  Dean and Sam ran toward the damaged wall and jumped through the hole. Garth was right on their heels, and the three friends started running southeast.

  A moment later, the jakkals followed.

  * * *

  Greg feared what the loud crash might mean, but he couldn’t afford to worry about that now. Morgan’s mother and brother had stopped advancing when they heard the sound, and he needed to strike while they were distracted. He ran forward, slashed Sylvia’s shoulder, then lunged toward Spencer and bit into his bicep.

  Alan’s grip on Morgan’s throat had slackened. Not a lot, but enough. Morgan slammed her head back into his face. Alan’s nose broke with a crunch and she pulled herself free. She landed on all fours and sprinted toward Greg. She had several dots of blood on her neck from her father’s claws, but the wounds were minor.

  When Morgan reached him, Greg sent a mental command to the motionless neteru, ordering them to attack the werewolves. They didn’t respond. His grandfather had said he needed to be able to clear his mind to control the ambulatory corpses, and his mind was anything but clear right now. He was too afraid for Morgan’s safety. He wanted to grab her hand and lead her away from here as fast as he could. Once they’d put some distance between them and the werewolves, they could join with the other members of his family, and then they could all bring the fight to the werewolves.

  But the werewolves were too fast. They blocked off Greg and Morgan’s escape in a triangle formation. Greg and Morgan weren’t exactly surrounded, but he knew that if they tried to escape, one of the werewolves would get their claws on them, and then the others would join in on the fun. They were trapped.

  He turned to Morgan to tell her he was sorry. But before he could speak, she looked past him, eyes widening in confusion and fear.

  Greg turned to see his grandmother coming toward them. She was in her jakkal form, but something was wrong with her. Her eyes blazed like twin fires, and her features were twisted into a mask of savagery.

  “Grandmother?” he said.

  Muriel smiled, displaying sharp teeth, and slowly shook her head. Greg then understood what had happened.

  Anubis had risen.

  THIRTY-ONE

  When Sam, Dean, Garth, and the jakkals saw the werewolves confronting the ancient god, it was Dean who spoke first.

  “So Anubis’s vessel is a grandmother. Like that’s not weird.”

  Sam couldn’t argue with his brother. They knew that the outward appearance of a vessel didn’t reflect the nature of the entity inside, but this small, older woman didn’t look anything like an Egyptian deity—even if she did have fangs and claws. But Sam could feel power emanating from the woman, rolling off her in pulsing waves.

  Crowder, Sylvia, and Spencer surrounded Anubis, snarling and snapping their teeth at the god, but keeping out of his— her?—reach. Morgan and a teenage boy Sam assumed was Greg stood back, watching, as if unsure what to do. Two other neteru stood close by, unmoving. Sam assumed they were under Greg’s control, but the boy was too preoccupied to command the corpses.

  Anubis lunged and swiped at the werewolves, but they managed to avoid being struck by her claws. They were wounded, but fast as they were, their injuries still slowed them down. So when Spencer leaped away from one of Anubis’s strikes, he was a split second too slow. The god’s claws sank into his right shoulder and Spencer howled in pain. Anubis lifted him into the air with ease. Spencer—stuck on the god’s claws like a worm on a fishhook—grabbed Anubis’s wrist and tried to free himself, but his efforts were useless.

  Alan ran forward to attack Anubis. But the god swung his other arm in a vicious backhand swipe and struck Alan so hard that bones cracked like shotgun blasts. The sheriff flew through the air. Sylvia jumped toward her husband, trying to catch him, but Alan was flying too fast. He hit her, and they both fell to the asphalt.

  Now that Anubis had dealt with those annoyances, he turned his crimson gaze back to Spencer. He dug his claws deeper into Spencer’s shoulder, and the werewolf screamed. Blood poured from Spencer’s flesh like a waterfall.

  Greg—who was holding Morgan’s hand, Sam noted— seemed to see the rest of them for the first time. “Anubis has possessed Grandmother!” he shouted. “We have to help her!”

  The other jakkals didn’t respond. Instead they stared at Anubis in awe. Sam wouldn’t have been surprised if they fell to their knees and started praying. But even if they weren’t overwhelmed by Anubis’s presence, the jakkals had no reason to interfere. After all, he was still dealing with their enemies, wasn’t he?

  Spencer screamed in pain. The crimson light in Anubis’s eyes blazed brighter, and Spencer began to rapidly age. He began to fall apart, flesh and blood transforming into sand, which
drifted to the ground until nothing of the werewolf remained.

  Sam looked at Dean. “Anubis is a bigger threat than the Crowders.”

  Dean scowled. “Yeah, I know. Too bad we can’t just hang back and let them kill each other.”

  Dean, Sam, and Garth drew their guns and fired at Anubis. The god staggered as the silver rounds slammed into Muriel’s body, but he didn’t go down. A second later, his wounds healed, and he trained his crimson-eyed gaze on the Winchesters.

  “Well, we know silver bullets don’t work on him,” Dean said.

  Alan and Sylvia stared at Spencer’s remains in horror. Sylvia let out a mournful cry that was half human voice and half wolf howl. She rose to her feet, eyes filled with hate. But as she ran toward Anubis, the god’s eyes blazed bright again. The eyes of Greg’s neteru glowed crimson and hurled their rebar spikes at Sylvia. All four of the makeshift weapons slammed into her. She fell to the ground, screaming in agony. Alan ran to her side and began pulling out the spikes, and she cried out even louder.

  “Anubis possessed those neteru,” Sam said.

  “Not just them,” Dean said.

  The two corpses attacked the closest people: Efren and Erin. The neteru grabbed each of them by the throat and began to squeeze.

  Greg’s neteru were heading towards him and Morgan. The teens picked up the ice-cream cart and hurled it at the neteru coming for them. It struck the two possessed corpses and exploded in a shower of splintered wooden fragments. Sam heard bones break and both neteru went down. The crimson light faded from their eyes, and they collapsed into piles of sand.

  Marta placed Joshua on the ground, and then she and Nathan attacked the two remaining neteru, clawing their hands and forearms down to the bone. Their tendons destroyed, the zombies could no longer maintain their hold on Erin and Efren. Sam and Dean brought the zombies down with gunshots to the head, and Garth raced forward and tore the corpses apart. As they died, they too collapsed into piles of sand.