text: The ruins were musty. It was uncomfortably hot, and to top it off, the band of looters hadn’t brought any extra water. “Boss, can we go soon?” complained one. “Of course you can, as soon as we find some gold,” spat the leader of the miserable group. They all gave a collective groan of exasperation. “Come on boss, this place has been picked clean by all the other guys who came here, and I’m thirsty,” said another lackey. “If every looter was as wimpy as all of you I’m sure they missed something. Now back to work!” They searched for a few more minutes. Two of the looters had crept off to a secluded area and were resting on the ground with their backs to a wall. They dabbed their foreheads with their shirts to soak up the sweat. “Hey, look what I got,” whispered one of them. He pulled out a small flask. “Is that the boss’s? He’s gonna kill you if he finds out you took his only flask of whiskey!” the other replied. “He’s not gonna find out, and I want something other than the distilled water we get to drink,” He popped it open and took a swig. He threw his head back and hit the wall. “Ow!” He leaned forward and rubbed the back of his head. “Hah, nice going.” sniggered the second looter. He looked back at the wall. The place that had been hit was indented. “Wow, you actually broke that brick.” he said pointing to the indent. The first turned around and peered at the brick. “Wait, this isn’t a brick.” His eyes widened in astonishment. “It’s a switch!” He pushed the brick further in and the wall slid down. They stood in shock at what their eyes beheld. It was an untouched tomb. Trinkets lay stacked in piles five feet high. Ancient scrolls and artifacts lay on tables. At the center of it all stood an engraved sarcophagus. It showed the picture of a king with his arms crossed. He held a flail in his right hand, and a crook in the left. It was an ancient work of art. “Lawson, Carter, I’m gonna have your hides if you... don’t...” the boss stopped and saw the two gaping at the tomb. He looked in and saw the room. “Wh-how... how did you find this?” he asked. Carter turned and started, “Well-”, but he was cut off as the boss turned back to call the rest of the looters. “I want all this outta here in half an hour!” He commanded. They cleared the room in half that time. They were all so excited at the find that they could hardly contain themselves. “Boss, you want this thing?” asked a looter who was gesturing to the sarcophagus. “It’s gonna take a few of you, but yeah. Haul her out,” said the boss. A looter touched the coffin to tip it over. The moment he did, a blast of air blew the man across the room. He slid and hit the wall. “What was that!?” called out the boss. The coffin shook. The ground shook. The looters shook with fear. There was a wind in the ruins. It whipped at their hair. The walls cracked. The coffin lid slid off, and from it stepped a man. He was no mummy, but the looters ran regardless. Except for one. He had fallen to the ground and sat, paralyzed. The coffin man stumbled forward, clutching the same crook and flail engraved on the sarcophagus. He was nearly twice the size of the average man. His body was that of a warrior, toned and battle hardened. Around his shoulders was a gold plaited collar, and his legs were wrapped in a white robe that draped down on the back. His bright green eyes seemed to give off a faint glow. He had a bald head save the black ponytail on the back. He blinked multiple times, and looked on the verge of collapse. He fell to his knees. He looked at the petrified looter. “You,” he spoke. The air trembled at his voice. It was a deep booming voice that held one in place as he spoke. “are you a minion of that traitor?” “I...I...” stammered the man. His knees were knocking together with an audible sound. “I don’t know any traitor.” he finally blustered. “Then what house are you apart of?” questioned the man. He stood up, and with his tools held in one hand he brushed off the dust that had accumulated. “I...I..I’m..” the frightened looter continue to stutter. “Speak!” commanded the coffin man. The air shook at his voice. “I’m just part of a looter group. We were looking for ancient treasure.” spoke the man clearly. He started crawling backwards as the coffin man stepped forward. “Ancient?” He questioned. He turned and looked at the coffin behind him. His eyes widened. “No,” he quietly pleaded. “No, No, No, No” he started to panic. He looked at the looter who was about ready to soil himself. “What has happened to the nation of Anima?” he said. “Anima? What’s that?” said the looter. “Wait, why were you in that,” he gestured toward the sarcophagus, ”thing?” “It’s a prison. I was trapped and put into a trance by a traitorous subject of mine.” A look a dread was on his face. “What has become of my people. My kingdom?” He dropped his tools and put his hands on his head. “Wait, you’re a king?” said the looter “No,” he replied. He held out his hand and the crook and flail rose back to his hands, “I am Pharaoh.” This is my first time on Reddit. I'm really looking forward to making this into a full length story.