Читать книгу Film About the Demon. Daughter of the Dawn - Natalie Yacobson - Страница 11

Egypt, excavations, Valley of the Kings

Something went wrong. Routine archaeological excavations have become hell. Voices were heard in the night over the tents, vague monstrous silhouettes flashed in the distance.

Several employees disappeared. And Leah was so passionate about her work that she didn’t even notice it. It is much more important for her to dig another discreet artifact out of the sand and mud than to contact the authorities and inform that people are missing from the excavations.

How could a girl be appointed head of the expedition? As expert as she is, she is still a woman. All her academic degrees do not change this.

Neil decided to take matters into his own hands. All you have to do is make a few calls or get to the city.

Leah, although not a white-handed, but a terrible bore. Sometimes you can’t get a word out of it. It’s a pity, she’s a young woman with great prospects and good looks, except for a strawberry patch on her cheek. Neil would have an affair with her, even though he was not a supporter of office romances. At home his wife and son were waiting for him, and Leah turned out to be a real ice statue. She didn’t like men at all, but she was not a lesbian either. She is asexual, like most scientists, who so much burden the brain that the attraction to carnal pleasures disappears. In addition, Leah did not abuse her connections at embassies and consulates. This means, as from a girlfriend, there will be no benefit from her. She also preferred not to disturb the police, holding a weapon for self-defense near her sleeping bag. She is ready to attack the camp. But Neil did not want to become a victim of robbers or terrorists.

He thought that by evening he would reach the settlements. It wasn’t like that. The city of the dead did not seem to let him go. All around are dunes and pyramids. Wherever he went, the road either turned back, or stretched forward indefinitely.

He probably turned the wrong way. When the whole expedition got to the excavation, it took much less time than now. Doesn’t he know how to use a navigator? It was also difficult to navigate the map. It seems that he was driving in the right direction and would have continued driving if the gasoline had not run out.

It was getting dark. Neil had to get out of the comfortable car and walk. Leah was probably right when she didn’t want to let him go. Cellular communication has been interrupted. Neil was left trapped in the sands alone.

The time was too late to receive sunstroke. The sun is no longer at its zenith. It’s getting dark too fast in the desert. So why does he have the feeling that his brains are melting from the sun? A figure in red flickers between the dunes. A monstrous face flickers under the red hood.

It seemed to Neil that real gold jewelry and coins were sparkling in the sand under his feet, but leaning over he found only bones there. He hoped they weren’t human.

Are jackals or some other predators roaming around here? He hadn’t heard the howl yet, but it got dark instantly. The constellations that poured out in the sky resembled bizarre inscriptions.

“Go to the session,” someone whispered. “There are many cinemas. They have films about us.”

If anyone was around, Neil would have punched him. How can you scoff at the unfortunate stray traveler like that?! He, of course, would like to sit in a comfortable chair, eat popcorn and quench his thirst with Coca-Cola. Only all this is impossible. After all, there are definitely no cinemas in the desert. They, for sure, are not present in most of the Egyptian cities. He didn’t check it himself, though. In Luxor he was passing through and did not see a single cinema there. And here lay the desert. It is located somewhere in the Valley of the Kings area, or at least not far from it. It is also called the City of the Dead, because the pharaohs were buried here for centuries. Each pyramid is a tomb, not just an exquisite museum for tourists. This should be remembered. The dead are all around. They must be respected. Well, robbers of royal tombs can also hang around here. Neil remembered them when he noticed something like a party near the opened tomb. A bright electric light poured from the opening that replaced the entrance. Someone inside was laughing. The dancing shadows resembled horned mythical creatures.

Robbers don’t behave like that. Most likely this is an alien group of archaeologists who made an important discovery. And now they are celebrating. It’s worth joining them.

He entered the pyramid and seemed to go to hell. A bloody mess was squelching underfoot. Either creatures, or jackals ate the remains of human bodies. Some bastards were crawling on the sand. Someone was drawing hieroglyphs on the floor. But the most terrible were the murders – real murders and tortures that he saw with his own eyes. A camera was working somewhere. Hence the light. Who has not heard of torture studios, where the real torture of the actors-victims is secretly filmed. And this happens not in some nook, but in dilapidated tombs, where tourists can appear during the day. Bloody debris flopped under his feet, clearly thrown from above. Something was crawling and groaning along the ceiling. The other dexterous creatures on the floor only vaguely resembled charred monkeys. They not only tormented the victims, but also devoured them alive. These are some kind of mutants, not otherwise. A whole horde of sand mutants. One beautiful creature among them nevertheless appeared. It bent over a completely opened and still living body, and cut it not with a knife or scalpel, but with its own claws. It sparkled like gold. All of it was completely phosphorescent, including the growth behind the back, like wings. Even the nails, sharp as knives, were gold. And the victim under them either lost his tongue, or could not scream.

He was dumbfounded. This is a crime, not archeology. Even in the middle of a wild country, which he stubbornly believed today’s civilized Egypt, it is still a crime.

“What are you doing?”

The handsome creature chuckled, and the creatures under his feet giggled insolently, as if laughing.

“Do not you see?” it raised a questioningly golden eyebrow. “We’re making a film.”

He actually noticed several other portable cameras in the corners. One of them seemed to hang in the dark. Shooting is so shooting, but they are documentary. The bodies writhing in agony are not a fake. They are bleeding. The sand absorbs blood. The cameras work, absorbing the scenes of hell like a sponge.

He did not have time to accuse anyone out loud of murder and sadism, but the handsome creature answered his unspoken question with the same mockery:

“Art requires sacrifice, as you can see.”

How easily it altered the meaning of established earthly expressions.

Not such victims, he wanted to say. Although it depends on what art to keep in mind. Something hellish was filmed here.

He didn’t have time to guess, because the golden creature finished with its victim and was there. Long gold nails reached out to his chest.