Rune of Ruin

Prompt: An unknown person sends you, from Egypt, a box containing a rock etched with hieroglyphics.



Note to readers: This is a very rough draft. I got this far and my muse went on vacation in the freakin Bahamas! (Wish I was there, but he never invites me!) Any comments/criticisms are welcome. Maybe after a couple of re-writes of what I've got I can get the story moving again. Thank you!





The day was temperate and bright. A warm breeze blew in across the water from the south west. Pulling on a pair of socks and well-worn Nikes, Ryan jumped from the kitchen chair to begin his first day off in over a month. Pushing back his spiked blonde highlights, he donned his sunglasses over his deep blue eyes and headed for the door. Whistling an aimless tune, he exited his quaint beach-front house and headed for the row of mailboxes a half block away. Nearby Lake Michigan graced the breeze with a sultry air. It served well to further heighten his effervescent mood.

“Hi, Ryan! How are you today?” His neighbor, Emily, was just departing her condo as he passed.

“Hi, Emily!” He waved, “Couldn’t be better! First day off in an eternity and I intend to make good of it! How about yourself?”

“It’s off to work for me, I’m afraid. No rest for the wicked.” She feigned a grimace, and then offered a subtle smile before turning to her little yellow Volkswagen Bug at the curb. Ryan noticed how well her business suit fit her form, and then offered a final friendly wave as she settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

A couple of minutes later he stood before the dour row of mailboxes, fishing in the pocket of his khaki shorts for the key. It always seemed to escape into the deepest corner you could never quite reach without turning your pocket inside out. Mail had always provided a special form of excitement. As a child it was sort of like a miniature version of Christmas. Bills took a certain measure of that magic away, but it was still fun to expect the unexpected, which is exactly what he would find today.

Finally gaining hold of the evasive key, he slid it into the lock and swung the door open. At first glance it was barren, but then he leaned in and reached to the back of the box just to be sure. There it was, a small envelope at the back with a mysterious bulge. The unexpected.  Releasing his inner child, he pulled the envelope from the box and tore it open. What he found inside was a mystery.

In it was a small, flat, reddish, round stone about two inches in diameter and very smooth. On it was some sort of picture. It looked something like an eye with a tear coming out. He turned it over in his hand. On the other side was a cross with a loop at the top. Wondering who would send him a rock with pictures on it, he referred to the envelope; there was no return address. It was a simple manila envelope with his name and address plainly scrawled across the front. Then he checked the post mark. Egypt? He didn’t know anyone in Egypt. Puzzling the conundrum, he stuffed the envelope and rock into his pocket and headed back to the house. He had plans today and a little rock wasn’t going to slow him down.

***

“Jeff? Yeah, it’s me, Ryan, we still good for tennis today?” All he heard was rustling on the other end of the line, “Jeff? You there?”

“Yeah, Ryan, I’m here; sorry, I’m looking for my keys. They seem to have fled the country or something.” More rustling, “Hey, I’ll be there, but I might be a little late. Just grab a court and keep it warm for us, eh?”

“Will do!” He dropped the phone into the charging cradle, grabbed his car keys from the table and headed for the door. Half way to the curb he stopped. Wouldn’t do much good to rush off to the court without his racket! Pausing, he took a breath. No need to rush through the day. Relax! Enjoy! Wits collected, he dashed back into the house, grabbed his racket and continued his journey to his car at the curb. Just before reaching the car, he heard squealing tires and looked up just in time to see a red pickup careening toward his parked car. Diving in the opposite direction, he hit the dirt at the edge of his front lawn and braced for impact. There was a loud crash conglomerated with twisting metal and breaking glass, then silence. Still not ready to face the ugly reality, he was slow to raise his head. The air was filled with gasps as onlookers closed in on the scene.

“Oh no! Someone call an ambulance!” Someone yelled. Another voice called, “I’m a doctor, give me some space!”

Before looking up, Ryan started to say, “No, no, I’m okay! I’m not hurt! Just some scratches and…” Then he lifted his head to a grizzly scene involving a smashed pickup truck and his mangled car between which was an unlucky jogger. Or what was left of him. The ground seemed to sway as he staggered back a few steps.

By the time he’d finished giving a statement to the police and called a taxi, he was sure he’d missed Jeff. After a short hop across town, he didn’t see Jeff at the tennis court, but there was still one open, so he snatched it and started warming up. He was still shaky from the incident at his house, so he sort of hoped Jeff had come and gone, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he saw him pulling up in his charcoal sports sedan. That’s alright, he thought, maybe this will wring out the shakes. Jeff parked and got out of his car and Ryan waved him over. It had been about a year since he’d had time for tennis, so this would prove interesting.

“Been here long?” Jeff asked.

“No, there was a delay. I just got here.” Ryan said as he stretched his ham strings.

“A delay? Traffic was clear…did you meet a girl?” Jeff ribbed.

“No, it’s a long story. Let’s just play.”

The match was intense. Jeff played at least once a week and Ryan was really rusty; he had a hard time keeping up. By the time it was over, his heart rate had gone into orbit and his lungs felt like two rubber bands about to snap.

“What’s the matter, tough guy? I know you haven’t played for a while, but still, you just didn’t seem on top of your game! Everything ok?” Jeff looked genuinely concerned, so he decided to spill the beans. He summarized the wreck at his house and the poor fellow that got pinned. “Well, hey, buddy, I’m glad you’re ok!”

“See that’s the thing, I shouldn’t be ok! That should have been me smashed to a pulp!” Ryan sank onto a nearby bench and grabbed his water bottle.

“You can’t think that way, man! That guy was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, you had nothing to do with that.” Jeff took a seat next to him.

“You don’t understand. The only thing that saved me is forgetting my racket. Had that not happened, I would’ve been right there when that truck plowed into my car!” He took a long drink. “I just can’t shake it.”

“Come on, man. Let’s just get out of here and hit the bar early. We’ll take your mind off things, meet some ladies and have an incredible evening. What do you say?” Jeff clapped his hand on Ryan’s shoulder and then grabbed his own water bottle. That’s when Ryan noticed his shoe was untied. He leaned down to snug his laces when Jeff collapsed.

Ryan leaned over in wonderment and noticed a red patch spreading across Jeff’s chest. What the hell is going on! His thoughts raced as those around him noticed what was happening and began running in every direction. He hadn’t even heard the shot. He knelt down to check Jeff’s pulse. Nothing. His chest wasn’t moving either. Good Lord! He’s dead! He reached in his pocket for his cell phone and felt the rock he’d forgotten about for obvious reasons. It was warm. As he dialed 911 he examined the artifact. It seemed to glow and pulsate in his hand. It only lasted a brief moment and then the 911 operator was on the line. All he could manage to say was “My friend is dead.”

As luck would have it, the same police officer who took his statement at his house was the first one on the shooting scene. His stomach was a cold knot. The man approached and looked surprised when he saw a distraught Ryan standing next to his friend’s lifeless body.

“What are you, the grim reaper’s cousin? Death seems to follow you like stink on a fish.” The officer had a suspicious look on his face.

“It’s not my fault! I swear! I just bent down to…” The cop interrupted him.

“Relax. It’s ok. There was a shooting a couple of blocks away and unfortunately for your friend here, he caught a stray bullet with his chest.” The officer put a hand on his shoulder. “Rough day?”

“You could say that.” Ryan just kept turning the rock over in his hand wondering if maybe there was a connection. Perhaps it was time to find out what those strange symbols meant. He needed to get home and calm his frazzled nerves.

***

Sitting in his favorite leather arm chair back at the house, he tossed the rock back and forth from hand to hand and stared out at the lake, which now donned an orangeish hue as the sun nestled into the distant horizon at the water’s far edge. His thoughts were an ocean of shooting stars against the black abyss of everything he didn’t know. He reached out and grabbed at a couple of those stars, Jeff and the jogger. The jogger incident alone, he could have passed off as mere misfortune, but add Jeff getting hit by a chance stray bullet and the glowing stone, he just couldn’t let it go. Finally, he decided he would tap the knowledge of an archeologist friend at the University of Michigan. Looking at his watch he figured he’d be done with his last class by now, so he picked up the phone and dialed the number to his friend’s office.  He owed it to Jeff to get some answers.

“Jim. This is Ryan. You got a minute?” His words came staccato like some tribal war song.

“Ryan! What’s up? You sound terrible! You ok?” Ryan took a deep breath.

“Not really, but that’s not why I called. Look, I’ve got a puzzle here I need a little help solving. You got some time?”

“Sure! I love puzzles! What you got?”

Ryan ran a hand through his hair trying to figure out how to frame what he was about to say next. “To make a long story short, I got something in the mail today from Egypt.”

“Did you say Egypt? Wow…”

“I know…wow…Listen, inside the envelope was this small round stone with some Egyptian symbols on it. Can you help me figure out what they mean?” Now it was Jim’s turn to take a deep breath.

“I’ll take a stab at it. What are you looking at?”

“There’s an image on each side of the rock. On one side is an eye with a tear coming out of it and the other has a cross with a loop at the top. Does either of those mean anything to you?”

After a drawn out pause Jim replied, “I know they’re pretty common symbols; the cross is they symbol of life, but let me look the other one up to be sure. I may have a book on hieroglyphs around here…somewhere…hold on a minute.” Ryan was now tossing the rock with one hand, oddly it was still warm, and recounting the day’s events. He’d never seen anyone die in his entire life, now two in one day and one was a close friend? He needed to figure this out and quickly. “Ah, here it is. The first image you described is the Eye of Horus. It’s a symbol of protection and power.” Ryan heard pages crackling, “The second is called the Ankh; as I mentioned, it’s the Egyptian symbol of life. I could give you a lot of boring history and cultural mumbo jumbo, but coming from me it probably wouldn’t mean much. I did a paper on hieroglyphs in college, but it’s not really my main area of focus.”

“Well, that’s a thousand fold more than I knew this morning when I pulled it from the envelope! Thanks a million!” It wasn’t much to go on, but it was certainly a start.

“Don’t mention it and I’ll go a step further. A colleague of mine is in town from Egypt. His name is Dr. Locktie. He’s the absolute expert on these kinds of things. I’ll give you his local number.” He took a moment to search for it, and then returned to the phone with the number. “I hope that will get you the answers you need. Get some rest, man, you sound stressed.”

“Will do.” He ended the call and tossed his phone onto the coffee table. He wasn’t ready to call the Egyptian yet. He was physically and mentally exhausted and needed some food. He went to the fridge to scope the food scenario; salami and corned beef. Who bought this stuff? He found some leftover pizza in the back of the fridge and put it in the microwave. Before it finished cooking, doorbell rang.

A tired looking Emily was standing at his door. “Hi, I heard what happened this morning. Are you ok?” He found her even more attractive in her current disheveled state.

He hesitated. Do I tell her? “I’m alright. Can’t say the same for that poor jogger…or Jeff.” He stared at his shoes for a moment.

“I didn’t know Jeff was here when it happened, is he ok?” She lifted his chin to meet his sea green eyes. That’s when the first tears welled up; fine time for the shock to wear off. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t explain, I just…Look, I saw two people die today and I think it might be my fault.”

“Two people? You mean Jeff is…”

“There was a shooting a couple of blocks from the tennis courts. Jeff was hit by a stray bullet. He was dead before I could even check his pulse.” Ryan felt his knees buckle. The reality was finally sinking in.

“But how is that your fault?”

“It’s a long story and I doubt you’d believe me if I told you…What’s that noise?” There was a loud humming noise coming from the kitchen. The microwave! He dove towards Emily tackling her to the ground just as the explosion destroyed his kitchen. When the dust settled he pushed himself off of her. “Emily?”

“I’m ok, I think. What happened?” That’s when he noticed the shard of metal poking out of her neck.

“Emily. Don’t move. I need to call you an ambulance.” She winced and touched her neck. When she saw the blood on her hand she went pale and looked as if she might pass out. “Stay with me, Emily. Help will be here soon” He raced to the coffee table and retrieved his phone to dial 911 for the second time that day. He stayed with Emily until the ambulance arrived and once she was safely on board he called a cab for the hospital. He wanted to see this through. At least this time no one died.

***

In the cab on the way to the hospital his thoughts were a steam engine with a belly full of hot coals. What was driving this strange turn of events? He felt for the stone in his pocket. It was hotter now. It didn’t burn him, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable to touch. Could this strange stone be causing all of this? It seemed a far cry from reality. Magic stones didn’t exist. Right? It was time to call the Egyptian.

At the hospital he paid his fare and got out of the cab. Distraught, he walked right past the nurse’s desk before realizing he may need a room number if he wanted to see Emily. The nurse’s station was empty so he waited for someone to return. In the meantime, he had a phone call to make. He needed some answers. He’d jotted down the Egyptian’s phone number on the envelope the rock had come in. Retrieving his cell phone from his other pocket, he dialed.

“Hello?” He hoped this guy spoke reasonable English.

“Hello. Who is this?” Turns out he was English.

“Hello. This is Ryan Burnwell. I’m a friend of James Hughes. I understand you two are colleagues?”

“Indeed I am! My name is Dr. Locktie. Jim told me you would be calling. What can I help you with?”

“To keep it simple, doctor, I need help with an Egyptian artifact I received in the mail today. I was told you are an expert on the subject?”

“You are correct, sir. What is the nature of the artifact?”

“It’s a smooth, round stone, about two inches in diameter and has a hieroglyph on either side. One is an eye with a tear coming out and the other is a cross with a loop at the top. Does that mean anything to you?” There was a lengthy silence before the doctor spoke.

“Have you any idea the significance of what you possess?”

“All I know is that the eye is the eye of hours…”

“Horus. The Eye of Horus…”

“Yes! That’s it! Horus! It means power, right?”

“Power and protection. Go on.”

“And the other is the ankle? A symbol of life?”

“A symbol of life, yes, but it’s the Ankh, not ankle, as you so eloquently put it.”

“So, what’s so special about it and why does it keep getting hotter?”

“You mean to say it has already begun getting warmer?” There was an edge of chariness in the doctor’s voice. “When did this start?”

“Do you want the long or the short of it? You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.”

“You’d be quite surprised at what I’d believe, sir.”

Ryan gave him the short of it and when he finished asked, “So what does this little stone have to do with all of it?” Again, the long silence.

“That stone, as you call it, is an ancient rune possessed by a Pharaoh. It was believed to grant the bearer eternal life. All of the rumors proved to be true, but the Pharaoh soon learned that it came with a price. For every time he cheated death, someone else had to die in his place.” The pit was back in Ryan’s stomach and this time it was full of angry vipers. “You see, Master Burnwell, with the gift of life, came the curse of death. The Pharaoh soon realized that in order to protect his friends and loved ones from the curse, he could never be near them or he would risk their lives. He soon tired of keeping company with expendable slaves and watching everyone around him die, so he decided to get rid of the rune. He had it buried in the deepest catacomb of his pyramid, but that still did not lift the curse. Consulting with his scribes they discovered the only way to lift the curse was to give the rune anonymously to any recipient who would have it, but once they touched it, the curse was theirs. So you see, Master Burnwell, your biggest mistake today was touching that rune, for now that you’ve touched it, you have but two choices.”

“…And those would be?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Master Burnwell? You keep the stone and live while everyone around you dies, or give the curse to someone else and embrace your own demise.” Ryan was rendered speechless. But wait! Emily didn’t die! Maybe this was all a coincidence!

“But Dr. Locktie, the last victim of this curse hasn’t died! She’s seriously injured, but I’m at the hospital waiting to see her now! Maybe the curse is a sham!” He felt hope seeping into that pit and burying the vipers.

“Don’t be so sure, Master Burnwell. The night is young. Good day to you, sir.”

“But doctor!” It was no use, the line was dead. He hoped Emily wasn’t. During his conversation a nurse had returned to the nurse’s station. He approached haltingly.

“Hi. I’m Ryan. I’m here for Emily Millen” He waited tentatively for her acknowledgement.

Without looking up she replied, “Are you family, Ryan?”

“I’m, uh, I’m her brother.” She raised her chin and looked down her pointy beak to look him over.

“You don’t look like her brother.” She said plainly.

“I’m adopted.” He replied.

After one more long assessment from behind her bony snout she directed him to bed two-A down the hall and to the left. When he got there a nurse was making an empty bed. Oh no! I’m too late! He cleared his throat to get the nurse’s attention.

“Excuse me, ma’am…Is she..?” The nurse smiled and shook her head.

“Relax; she’s just gone to surgery. It will be a delicate procedure because of the proximity to the jugular vein, but she’s in good hands. We’ll let you know as soon as we know something.” She turned and finished flattening out the blanket and fluffed the pillows before exiting the room.

“Thank you!” He called after her.

***

A waiting room can feel like a tomb; nothing but a sea of silent, somber faces and empty stares. It had been over two hours since he talked to the nurse. It gave him too much time to think. There was the constant worry about Emily overshadowed by the mystery of this wretched rune he now possessed. Then there were the questions. Did he keep the rune and move to a cabin in the woods where no one around him could be harmed by the curse? Should he pass the rune to some poor unsuspecting fool as someone had done to him? To do so would not only end his life, but theirs as well. He didn’t want to die. Nor did he want anyone else to die. Maybe he should destroy the rune. The doctor hadn’t said what consequence that would bring. Could it be worse than death? He needed more answers, but didn’t know where to find them. A doctor appeared at the waiting room door. Every head in the room turned to him in unison, but he was only there for one of them.

“Ryan Burnwell?” he called.

“That’s me.” Ryan stood up and walked over to the doctor.

“The good news is, we were able to remove the metal from Emily’s neck.” Ryan felt a new wave of hope wash over him. He actually cracked a half smile. “However, we nicked the jugular vein in the process. There is still a small amount of internal bleeding, but it should stop on its own. We will need to keep her sedated in ICU until we get it under control. That will keep her movement to a minimum so she won’t tear a stitch and make the bleeding worse.” Ryan’s heart sank. She wasn’t out of the woods yet. “You look exhausted, young man; you should go home and get some rest. Come back and see her tomorrow afternoon. If all goes well we should be able to wake her by then.”

“Will do.”

***

Ryan went home, but quickly found that resting just wasn’t an option. Ignoring the devastation in his kitchen, he tried going straight to bed, but that was hopeless. Then he thought a nap on the couch might suffice. No dice. He tried telling himself Emily would be ok and Jeff was dead and there was nothing he could do about it, so he might as well relax until tomorrow, but none of that worked either.  He was just too emotionally ruptured to find his way down the winding path of sleep. He crossed the room and slumped down in the armchair. Leaning back, he just stared at the ceiling.

He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he remembered was opening his eyes to the golden rays of dawn breaking across the lake. He saw a large yacht sailing toward the horizon and part of him wished he was on it. Rubbing groggy eyes tiny bits of dreams from the night before came back in flashes. None of them were good. A row of joggers lined up to get smashed between a truck and his car. Jeff was running down an endless path, chased by a giant bullet that followed him at every turn. A large sheet of metal flew through the air decapitating Emily who just looked at him pleadingly as her head floated off into the sky. There were others, but none of them were quite as clear. He hoped the coffee pot had survived the explosion. He needed to clear his head.

In awe, he stumbled through the kitchen. He wondered what caused his microwave to explode. He hadn’t put anything metal inside. That’s when he noticed the slice of pizza plastered to the wall. Stuck to the bottom was a piece of tin foil. Of course, the pizza place he ordered it from lines their boxes with foil to help hold in the heat. “Papa Pete’s Peppy Pizza, where your pie stays hotter longer or your money back!” Finding the coffee pot in ruins, he decided to catch a cab to the hospital and get coffee there. He wanted to be there when Emily woke up and the wait would give him a chance to do some research on his iPhone.