AUTHOR'S NOTE - This one was meant for Halloween, though it may be a bit late by the time it's published. It's NOT nice though, don't be expecting a light-hearted monster romp. Oh well. One word of warning though - you may find the lack of attention to historical detail more horrifying than the story itself.
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The blade of the digger gave a metallic thud as it finally hit a solid weight amongst the kilos of sand that surrounded it.
"Stop the engine!" Marks yelled.
The scoop lifted away from the earth and with a shudder the whir of machinery halted. The men gathered round the hole in the ground to see what had been unearthed.
Collins pulled at the sand in the spot where the digger had been operating. As rivers of the golden powder flowed past his hands, a golden chest began to emerge, with a handle peering out from its side.
With a tug, the chest came free of the surrounding sand, exposing it to the surrounding air. It gleamed in the hot sun, ancient symbols shining and seemingly coming to life as they glittered.
Collins whipped out a brown and battered folio, flicking through to the relevant page in an instant.
"Hmm... yes, the key's in place, the marking on the fourth ascension matches up...
"Gentlemen, we've found it!"
"What?! For real?" Marks' eyes lit up as he rushed over to see.
"Yes. The symbols are too specific – this has to be it."
Marks pressed his hand to the chest in awe. The chest was a millennia-old artefact – it was legend that in the days of the Roman Empire, Cleopatra had harboured a deep distrust of Caesar and his armies.
In secret, she had consulted with the high priests of the pyramids and devised a cursed weapon that would bring death to all who opposed its wielder.
But it was not log before the Romans learned of it, and stole it from under the nose of Cleopatra herself. Caesar had apparently deemed it too dangerous even to use himself, and buried it in the sands of Egypt as they fled Cairo.
It was hokum of course. But it was hokum that would make them rich. No one knew of it, except Marks himself, who had discovered it while heading up a research project in the city, when he had come across a lost scroll excavated from a nearby settlement.
He had instantly seen its worth, and after calling a favour from Collins, they soon realised the scroll even contained co-ordinates to its location. They instantly recognised its worth, conspired to keep it a secret and set off on their own private expedition.
The value of this thing meant they would never have to work another day in their life. After selling it on the black market, they would retire as made men.
'Time to make us rich,' Marks thought with glee as the chest was hauled back to their sand buggy.
***
Back at Marks' small apartment in Cairo, Collins was delicately using a gigantic pair of padded forceps to open the lid of the strange chest.
Marks sighed in boredom and checked the time on his watch.
Twenty past one. That couldn't be right – they'd only left the dig site at 6pm and it didn't take that long to get back.
"F'king thing," he muttered.
Collins glanced up at him from the desk.
"Well, if you must buy cheap knock-offs..."
"Hey, this is quality merchandise," Marks retorted. "Omar says so."
Collins chuckled.
"Mate, its by a brand called Polex."
"Hmph, there is that I guess," Marks conceded.
Collins finally popped the lid open, and as he did so, Marks felt a bead of sweat dribble down his neck. It was stifling in the room, which had no air conditioning, and now the lid was finally popped open, he could feel his temperature soar as his heart began beating faster.
Both men lost their train of thought when an angry ticking came from across the room.
Collins ran over to the source of it – a canvas bag lying on the floor – and pulled out a dusty yellow box with a handle grip and circular dial on the front.
"That thing can't have set a Geiger counter off..." murmured Collins.
Marks checked his 'Polex' again. This time the hands were flying round the face in rapid circles. 'Is that even possible for watch motors?' he wondered.
As Collins brought the counter over to the open box, the tempo of the frantic clicking from the box shot higher. By the time Collins had reached the chest, the needle was in a constant whirring state, making it impossible to determine where one click ended and another began.
"Impossible..." murmured Collins, a look of icy dread gripping his face.
"This... ancient treasure chest is... radioactive...?" asked Marks, baffled.
"Yeah, seems er... seems so..." Collins replied, seemingly rooted to the spot.
"Shouldn't we get out of here?" Marks asked, lost in the same absent fear that had overtaken Collins.
"No point. The reading's so high we've already sealed our fate. In fact, we shouldn't even still be standing..."
Somehow the news that the pair were supposed to be corpses brought relief to Marks. If they should have already died, maybe there was a reason they were still alive.
"Could it be some kind of undiscovered radiation? Like, a non-lethal kind?"
"Er, maybe... I'm getting out of here. I'm going to see if I can be decontaminated, then I'm coming back with a hazmat suit and finding out just what the hell this thing is.
"I suggest you do the same."
"...yeah, 'fcourse."
After Collins and his men had staggered out of the apartment, Marks walked closer to the box and peered in to get a better look at its contents.
As he craned his neck over the lid, he saw a golden idol inside. It was a statue of a young woman – a dancer perhaps? - and she was holding a pearl-like orb with both hands to the centre of her stomach.
The longer he looked at it, the more Marks realised what an idiot Collins had been. It might be giving some kind of radiation off, but it would hardly kill him. What kind of a weapon would kill anyone in its vicinity without a trigger? It would make putting the damn thing back in its box impossible.
No, the longer Mark thought about it, the more he realised dying from sharing the same room with this thing was simply impossible. Marks picked up the idol with gloved hands and peered at the strange crystalline pearl in its centre. It glimmered brightly, just the once, dazzling Marks in the process.
Looking round, he noticed neither Collins nor the rest of his team would be coming back any time soon, he snuck back to his room with the idol tucked under his arm.
As he showered and rid himself of the day's dust, Marks noticed he was getting quite a large hard-on.
Shit, must be more excited about making my fortune then I thought, he smirked to himself.
He dried off and tried to ignore it – he'd had a tiring day and they needed to meet their contacts early tomorrow morning to unload the goods and get their cash. Screw research.
