There exists a casino beyond the city bounds of Minneapolis in which all but gold is common, and joy is in short supply, where I am banned from consuming liquor as are my brothers, where my soul is chained, and where I was cast upon with a curse. This curse be cause for many men to pray that I lay behind padded walls with my only outfit being a bound jacket, yet I say they are the ones who deserve such a fate for denying the fundamental truth. The truth being that the Mummy’s curse in Little Six Casino is real, the Mummy makes you lose your big wins because the Mummy hates you and your family. The tale I speak of is true, I assure you that and swear it on my gambler’s honor, and I urge you to listen. Perhaps you may find yourself suffering the same fate, or maybe you might know how to break a curse such as mine.
1995: Little Six, Prior Lake, Minnesota
My brothers and I stood outside the south parking lot of the casino in the cold. We had just left our vehicles and carried our unwanted gifts in hand. Mine, a how-to book on self-care, Thomas’ a male beauty kit, and Jerry’s a collection of mason jars. All items not in the slightest bit crucial to our way of life. Though, to our friend Daniel, the items we held in hand were the equivalent of the gifts the three wise men carried to baby Jesus. Except ours contained microplastics.
Daniel was a mere man of the casino floor, an honorable man who would encourage you to gamble more. Unlike therapists, Daniel knew the truth about casinos. Casinos wish you would not continue gambling; that way, they don’t have to worry about losing any money. A wise man knows this. Daniel knows this.
As we stood there, staring at the backdoor and awaiting the arrival of Daniel, my brother Thomas turned to me with a queer eyebrow. “You brought your Drivers License with you, Grace?”
“No,” I began, feeling my boiled leather coat, the pockets all but full. “Why should I?”
“They’ve begun carding people before entering the casino. Security reasons, I believe. No doubt it’s due to the high rollers lounge.” Thomas replied. His voice grew colder with disappointment.
“Aye.” I agreed, though I didn’t quite know what I was agreeing to. Thomas was an intelligent man, no doubt coming from his older age. His two extra years of experience compared to mine gave Thomas insight into the unknown. It brought me no joy to hear the disappointment in his voice. Nevertheless, I could not make this known to him. I was the youngest brother and still had much to prove.
“There’s another reason, brothers. They’re getting all too cautious these days. Do too well, and they’ll put a W on your Driver’s License.” Jerry had begun, balancing the jars in his arm as he pointed a finger towards the name Mystic Lake. “They want to scare us from winning by making us stick out like a sore thumb. We have to gamble more, Thomas. Show them we can win big. Then leave before they can put a W on our license.”
“Are they allowed to do that?” I pondered aloud.
“No.” Thomas began, silencing us. “But they’ll do it anyway. All to stop a winner.”
We waited for what felt like a fortnight; it was five minutes past our last conversations, and our legs grew weary. The cold was beginning to take hold of us, but we were not yet going to give. As I questioned whether or not we should return to our cars, Daniel came from out the backdoor of the casino, holding a leather sack. He sported a long white beard, a smile that looked as crooked as a Minneapolis road in winter, and held onto a cane that hadn’t been waxed in ages.
“My friends, I come seeking your wares. What have you for me tonight?” Daniel spoke. The years had grown cruel to Daniel, or perhaps it was he who grew cruel to them. His breath reeked of decay, and his voice croaked with each word. I began to wonder if my brother Thomas should still swear by Daniel as a safe contact.
“A how-to book on self-care, a male beauty kit, and a collection of mason jars.” Thomas began, stepping in front of us. I attempted to step forward and stand tall next to my brother, but Jerry had put a hand on my arm, shaking his head no. This was no place for a boy my age of 34 years to speak.
Daniel’s fingers trailed through his wispy white beard, which had begun to lose more strands of hair with each passing year. “I suppose this can do. I’ll give you 15 chips for these gifts. The least I can do for you.”
“That’s not fai-” I began to protest, but Thomas had shot me a glance that killed any more words I hoped to speak.
“Forgive him, Daniel. I believe that amount will not suffice. How will we manage to survive off 15 chips?”
Daniel’s nose scrunched at those words. All calmness suddenly vanished from his face, and what remained was an older man full of bitterness. “15 is more than enough for you men, more than generous for what you bring me. A male grooming kit? What do you take me for? A real man does not need a grooming kit or a shower. And you, you’re the younger one?”
Daniel pointed his cane towards me, specifically my jacket. His eyes were no longer furious but inquiring as to why my pocket did not appear empty. “You spoke out of turn. I can forgive you, though. Show me what’s in that pocket of yours.”
I reached inside my pocket, revealing my trusty NyQuil Severe bottle. I was banned from all the nearby liquor stores and bars, this being the only source of alcohol I could have. Daniel had undoubtedly been in the same boat as I, with his eyes locked onto it and his body reaching forward.
“Daniel, that is his NyQuil. You cannot expect me to separate a man from his NyQuil, do you?” Thomas reached out to Daniel and stopped him before he could latch onto my NyQuil bottle.
“I expect you to give me something worthwhile for more chips, Thomas. Or did you expect me to give you complimentary chips for the New Year? Give me the NyQuil, and I’ll give you 75 chips.”
Jerry froze, and for a second, I could see him contemplating taking the deal. He wasn’t the eldest of us, but he was older than I, having more say in the transaction. But Thomas stopped him. He revealed from his pocket a collection of banana-scented scratch tickets.
“You’ll give us 100 chips and remove yourself from our sight.” Thomas shoved the scratch tickets into Daniels’s hands. It had been a bold play, worthy of us being kicked out of the casino for good if he had gotten so upset as to banish us. But Daniel merely took the tickets, sniffed them, tasted them, and then sneered.
“Scent’s faded. I’ll give you 90.” Daniel had stepped away from me, now focusing in on Thomas.
“Deal. Now, hand me the chips.”
An hour had passed since our encounter with Daniel, and my brothers and I stood in line at the casino’s entrance. We could see men in tightened black suits standing guard at the doors, asking for the licenses of those attempting to enter the casino. I had begun to believe this was its security, but it was only when we witnessed a man forcing his way through the line and attempting to shove one of the suited men on the floor that we witnessed the true guardians of the casino. Suited in her own garb with the insignia of the casino sewn onto her vest, we witnessed a tall, standing woman shoot a taser into the back of the man. He recoiled in pain, reaching for the tongs to pry from out his back, but the electricity was far too numbing to his muscles to recognize where they were. He flopped to the floor in front of the woman, who proceeded to flip him over and examine his wallet. It was torn, made of duct tape, almost empty besides a few dollars. He was like us. She took her phone and made a call, urging the police force to come and remove him from the scene. To the guardians, we were but mere cannon fodder.
“Grace.” Thomas brought my attention away from the incapacitated man. “What you did back then…”
I had thought of the correct words to say, but I could compose nothing that sounded free of emotion, so I had spoken freely. “I apologize, brother. I only wanted to protect my kin-“
“You did the honorable thing. I understand you wanted to protect me, but it would be of great interest to your safety if you were to remain silent as your brother Jerry had.”
“Thank you, Thomas.” Jerry nodded, paying some attention to our conversation. However, he was still staring at the incapacitated man as a guardian ushered an officer towards the scene.
“But mother told me to speak my word!” I began. He hated it when I mentioned her. I could see it now as his brows furrowed.
“Mother didn’t know what life would be like in the casino!” Thomas shouted at me. A suited man paused when viewing a license to glance at the argument. But the violence. The tasers. The uncertainty. It was all too normal. He continued checking the licenses, paying no more mind to us than he would a fly.
“Sometimes, Grace, the correct way to defend your families’ lives is to remain silent. If mother hadn’t spoken about father’s big wins, the IRS would have spared his life.”
It was true. Mother had attempted to file our taxes, to much of our dismay. All it took was one phone call and her explaining that we decided not to file the taxes because my father considered it lame. It hadn’t taken long since that phone call that father had been removed from our lives. I wondered about him, how he sat in that cell of his, and if he wanted to return to the casinos with us. Yet he was arrested in a time before the licenses were checked, a time when man was truly free, but those days were no longer present. As I stared at the incapacitated man, I had to wonder, would my father, too, not care about the license and, in turn, be tased? If so, he would be returned to his cell. Perhaps there is no life anymore for a man such as him.
As we progressed through the line, we found that it was soon our turn, and we presented our licenses as such to the suited man. The one checking our license had a piercing around his septum, much as a bull were to have. His broad, bulk face resembled one as well, and it took little brain power to imagine horns upon his head. Thomas and Jerry’s licenses were checked and suffered no hangups, yet mine suffered a different fate.
“Oh yes,” he began, holding tightly onto my license, “you’re the winner I was told about.”
“Of what fortunes have I won?” I inquired. “I would be dressed in padded pants so that I may sit upon the slots longer if that were the case.”
The bullish man smiled at me as if I were a mere child complaining about their parents. “Sir, I do not control what policies the owners may enforce upon their folk; I merely enforce them. Of what you won is not of my concern.” He reached into his pocket and pulled from it a stamp with a W.
Before I could protest, he placed upon my license a stamp that read M.
“This says M?”
“Does it now?” The bullish man replied, putting his hand on my back and pushing me through the doors.
My brothers had inquired about the marking when I was pushed through the doors. At first, they had questioned me about breaking my oath, to gamble it all only with my blood, but I was no oath breaker. I needed the wisdom of my eldest brother and Jerry to correctly gamble in the casino; there was no chance I could have become a winner without them. More theories sprouted on whether or not we had made too much cash on our last passes or not, but we broke even each time: no money lost, yet no money gained.
“Perhaps it’s the letter M for money!” Jerry had jeered, bringing me to the roulette wheel. “God has graced you tonight for your act of courage for your brothers.”
Thomas hadn’t spoken to that; he only held a blank face akin to one that a player would hold at a poker table. It was his way of telling Jerry that his joke was most unamusing to him. As I approached the roulette wheel, he began the battle. “Elder picks red.”
“Middle chooses five.” Jerry called.
“It has been declared.” I nodded, turning to face the attendant. “Five chips upon red.” I placed five chips on red. The attendant bowed, placed her hand upon the wheel, and allowed it to spin. Within that moment, I felt a connection with my brothers; having performed the sacred casino ritual, our blood was back within the casino walls where our father once fought on the slots, wheels, and blackjack tables. Many games were played with him and their uncles, and the knowledge earned from them was passed down upon them.
As the wheel turned, our eyes were fixated upon the marble ball spinning its way across the wheel, grazing between red, black, red, black, and, at certain points, green. The wheel began to slow, and so did the marble, slowing down and eventually skipping across black and red. It took its last leaps across black, red, black, then red and stopped its journey, resting on black.
My lip had quivered at the sight. It had been a fluke. The attendant had quietly pulled our chips away and towards her. Never had Thomas guessed the first gamble wrong in the past five years. Yet we knew from our father and his brothers that streaks were built to be set ablaze by tourneys and battles you’d face on the casino floor. We would not be set back.
“Elder picks red. We must not be knocked aback.” Thomas began once more.
“Middle chooses five. The wheel may win one battle in the beginning, but many great battles start with a few mistakes.” Jerry nervously cited.
“It has been declared.” I spoke, but the venture in my voice had wavered. “Five more chips upon red.” I placed them upon the red square. The attendant nodded once more and spun the wheel.
It had landed upon black once more. Thomas and Jerry looked at each other with suspicion. “Repeat bet.” they both called.
“It has been declared!” I threw five more chips upon the red. Yet it had landed upon black once more.
Silence fell upon us. The battle had started with three losses and fifteen chips gone in no more than a minute. I feared that the wheel was too powerful, yet we could not give in so soon to this monster. “Might the youngest have the ears?”
Thomas nodded. “What say you, Grace?”
“The security has been upped; perhaps tonight, there will be special warriors that need accommodations on the battlefield.” I boldly claimed, my palms sweating. Never had I called upon the ears of the eldest brother during a night of gambling, but with the outlook, I found it to be necessary.
Thomas had nodded gently. “Pray tell, what do you make of our situation?”
“I urge you to choose black and middle to retain the numbers. The odds may be leaning more towards black tonight.”
His eyes had narrowed at mine. Thomas had thought my proposal interesting, and for a mere moment, I had thought he would declare it folly. But he nodded. “You may make the call for both brothers,” Thomas spoke.
“I declare five chips upon black!”
It was folly. The marble landed on red. Thomas looked at me with sorrow. “As I said earlier, Grace, sometimes the best move to protect one’s family is to remain silent.”
The night was long as it was cold within the casino walls. I felt a chill within the entire night as it progressed. We sat at the wheel, unable to give up our fight. Never had we suffered such a significant loss as we had at the roulette wheel. I was taking swigs of NyQuil, declaring bets that my brothers had so confidently claimed. I knew by Thomas and Jerry’s face that they were as startled as I had been. Jerry was rubbing his hands together in a worried manner, the hair on his knuckles falling silently upon the floor as the chips we placed upon the table fell one by one. We both were terrified, yet the fear had not encapsulated us fully until we reached five last chips. At those five last chips, Thomas’s eyes showed us something we had never seen before. Fear.
“We can’t continue this, Thomas! I beg of y-” Thomas slapped Jerry upon the face, falling into my arms. “Brother! You have struck your own kin!”
Thomas turned away. “He had not called upon my ears…”
It was at that point that I found myself taken aback. Jerry rose, his hand clenched in a fist, slamming it down upon Thomas’s head. Thomas hit the floor and reached towards his head, touching it lightly, then pulling his hand back and seeing the blood on it. Brother had stricken brother.
“Thomas- Thomas, I’m sorry-” Before Jerry could finish apologizing, Thomas had struck his chin, dislodging a tooth from Jerry that flew onto the roulette wheel. Despite its covering with red blood, it landed on black. As I gazed upon the tooth, my brothers slamming the same fists they used to hold hands as children against their heads, I realized that the battlefield could make monsters of us all. But what monster would we be? Ones that strode in broad daylight and played games? No. We were men. Worse than monsters.
“My brothers!” I shouted, attempting to separate them from each other, receiving blows on each side of my body, my ribs and face becoming badly bruised. “The M! The M is doing this! My license!”
“The M!? It’s just a letter, Grace! Leave us to fight!” Thomas declared, reaching for Jerry’s eyes. Yet Jerry froze.
“M… For-” Jerry was interrupted
“For monsters… For men… We have turned on our kin. Our blood… What are we if not for our family?” I spoke. Thomas was wrong about the world. If we were to erase our problems with family truly, then it would be through words, not battles. The M was for more even, perhaps the mouths we use to communicate with our siblings, our parents, and our friends each and every day.
“It stands for mummy, nitwit.” Jerry concluded.
“Oh.” I spoke. He was correct.
Thomas stared at his fist, covered in the blood of his brother. It began to shake. “You… You’re right…” Thomas started to do something we hadn’t ever seen before. Tears had begun to stream from out of his eyes. “The mummy…”
Jerry coughed up blood, covering the carpeted floor. “The mummy…” He started to laugh. As did I. Thomas looked up and came closer, hugging us both.
“Forgive me, brothers!” He sobbed upon us. But brothers forgive. We hugged him back.
“Aye, I forgive you…” Jerry began. “Now, let’s go find the mummy.”
The fight was settled as quickly as it began, and I stood there, staring at Jerry’s blood that stuck to the carpet. No doubt it would have to be bleached, but the carpet’s elegant design of yellow crests upon a red background would look faded once the cleaning crew was done with their work. The short conflict has left a mark on the casino, yet man nor woman would remember it as such. They would only remember the area in which the carpet was faded and assume someone perhaps puked, poured a drink, or the carpenters had made a mistake. Was that all that man’s conflicts were? Merely a faded stain on the carpet of life? If so, if the Mummy was truly in the casino and we were to fall to his hands, would we be remembered as a faded stain?
Thomas once more claimed the status of elder and, as such, was our guide in the trek. Jerry knew more about the Mummy, which was true, but each time he spoke, it sounded as if he had a sort of lisp. His jaw hung low, with each step swaying a tilt to the left or right, a faint drool protruding now and then. Thomas refused to turn and see Jerry. I could sense the fear on him. The fear that he did more than dislodge the tooth of his kin.
“Wehv ghot to fhind a hotehl rhoom” Jerry spoke, the spit lightly raining upon the back of my neck.
“Which one?” Thomas asked, still looking forward and leading us toward the slots.
“Rhoom 1922.”
We came upon a worker who stood as tall as a five-foot boy of around 18 could stand, guarding an unmarked door between two slot machines. He wore a red vest that looked to be made of cheap linen, and his face brandished a blemish on his left cheek. I tried not to imagine how he had gotten it, but judging from the boy’s appearance and health, I could only believe it was formed after multiple cases of acne in the same spot.
“We will need access to your wears.” Thomas approached the boy.
“What for?” the blemished boy asked in an irate tone that did not befit his appearance. “You lot look like a couple of gamblers from Little Six, not employees of Mystic. Hand me your IDs, and I’ll let you through.”
Thomas’ eyes followed the blemished boy’s hand as it rested on top of his radio, his fingers gripping the dial, ready to tune in to the correct channel. “Might you entertain my men with a question before you draw your radio?” If Thomas felt fear when questioning the blemished boy, then he had been good at hiding it.
The blemished boy smiled as if expecting the question to come. “Suppose I could. What would you like to ask me before I place a call?”
“What does the casino pay you?” Thomas inquired
That was all that it took for the blemished boy to take his hand away from the radio and nod. “Not enough.” He then placed a hand upon the handle and pushed the door open, to which we were greeted with the suits befit of the finest security guards a casino could offer, yet there was more to the dressing room. In the corner was a set of cleaning tools, a dustpan, and a broom. It was at that moment that I realized what this room held.
Thomas’ plan was one of genius and ingenuity. By all accounts, the Mummy is made of dust and ragged bandages covered in dirt. Take that away, and you cripple his image and confidence. All that is left for a man to do is to lunge his blade into the heart and twist it.
Upon walking to the coats, Thomas placed a hand onto one of them and ran the fabric between his fingers. “Canvas… Grace, Jerry, take these and wear them. They are akin to steel. If a mummy isn’t able to rip his own linen bandages off, then he will have a sorry time attempting to rip our canvas armor.”
He tossed a pair to Jerry and me. They fit somewhat well, but I found that the shoulder space left much to be desired. I flexed my chiseled shoulders to loosen the fabric, yet as I spent much time pulling the heavy slot machine levers, they appeared to be roided up. It felt as if it would halt my movement, yet it was better than being slain at the hands of the Mummy.
Jerry had a less difficult time, being the slimmer of us brothers. His suit didn’t fit well, being looser and more able to slip off his shoulders, as if his problems were opposite of mine. I could not hold my laughter back any further as I gazed upon the sight. “What size do you wear?” I inquired of Jerry.
“A thmall…” Jerry coughed.
“As is mine! Perhaps you could use some of my weight! Remind me of that next time we dine together!”
For the first time in ten minutes, I had finally seen a smile form on his since-disfigured face. To others, it may appear alarming, though I felt as if I could see past their face and see the one I know from those long ten minutes ago. The smile brought warmth to my heart. One that had been missing since we entered the casino.
“And since I do not have much money, what will you be paying me with?” The blemished boy asked from the doorway. He had been so quiet that I had forgotten he was still there. “Or should I still be risking my job?”
Thomas removed the broom from the wall and gestured for me to take the remaining cleaning supplies: a dustpan and some cleaning spray. As I walked to bring the supplies, Thomas made his way towards the blemished boy. From behind, I heard him call for the blemished boy.
Out of the corner of my eyes I could see Jerry staring at the sight, one that had troubled him in the span of a few seconds. I heard the door close shut, the blemished boy walking towards Thomas, then the crack of a wooden pole against a soft scalp and a firm skull that rung throughout our ears. There was no screech, no resistance, only the sound of a light thud. Without looking behind me, I had known that the boy was no longer.
“Why’d jyou dho it Thomas? He’s jhust ah bhoy…”
“He’s an agent of the Mummy!” Thomas spoke with a fire in his voice, the same kind from eleven minutes ago. Something had overtaken him in this short amount of time. But we were the sons of god, built of various paths and decisions that all led to a single fate: death and murder. And gambling. “You’d do best to hold your tongue or what’s left of it.”
“Thomas, he’s our brother. That’s a boy. No more of ten and six. Perhaps we could have told h-“
“To go home!? He’d walk to the tomb. That’s where the boy’s heart truly is with the Mummy. Besides,” Thomas nudged the blemished boy’s body on his back, gazing emptily up at the ceiling, a low breath slowly heard coming from his chest. “The boy is not dead. If I were to kill him as you implied, the Mummy would sense a severed link. Now come.”
Thomas led us to the door once more, leaving the blemished boy’s body behind as if it were blades of grass pulled and left on a pasture. Laying, breathing with the wind, soon to crumple and die. To dwell on the blemished boy’s fate was not one I entertained. Would the boy truly be dead by the end of this night? Would I be foolish enough to accept the Mummy into my heart at such an age?
My first romance was with a woman when I was ten and six years old; her name lingered on my lips for hours when I first heard it. Sasha, I would say, Sasha. I would say I found her beautiful, but it would have been a lie. I found her more than just that. I found her to be the perfect woman that I had ever laid eyes upon. At such an age I found her look to be alluring but as time progressed I found that all her looks did was dissuade me from seeing how she truly was treating me.
The guilt I had endured for the brief two years I had been with her was one I dare not think about, not until now, as Thomas was making me feel the same guilt as Sasha had made me feel. Being your own person. One who would speak their mind. Question the actions against others and leave behind the common man. Sasha would tell me that the fate of men was not any of our concerns; their actions were their own doing, and I was a fool to wish them well or lend a hand. It was true that their actions were of their own accord, yet so were the mistakes we made as children. Learning what was too hot to touch, too bitter to taste, too sad to bare. Some people matured at a slower pace or had lapses in time where their mentality would sulk back into a former state.
I knew what had happened to the blemished boy; the wages were too unfair for the casino. True as it may be, he could look for a job with higher pay, but the fact of the matter remained. He was still at the minimum wage job. Could you blame such a boy for wanting to confide in a mummy as the times grew dark upon his economical state? The Mummy, much like those in power, had a stash of wealth. But the Mummy would not lie to you about what he had; you could see it all in his tomb, and he would give it to you for a price. He wouldn’t lie to you on a transaction like the government or businesses could.
“Guards! Do something about this madman! This lunatic!” One of the staffers had screamed out towards us, pointing at a man who gripped onto a slot machine with his dear life. The man had sunk his nails into the polish, scratching at the curled wood, refusing to move as other staffers attempted to drag him off the machine.
“Let me handle this,” I spoke without the consent of my brothers. Thomas flinched at my response, no doubt he had planned on relegating this task to another one of the guards. Why I had done this I had not known. Perhaps it was to feel alive once more, less a man of the Casino or Mummy and more a man of his own accord. I walked towards the man and raised my hand.
“Leave me be with him, I will discuss with him our next actions.” The staffers fled soon after. I gazed into the man’s hazel eyes and noticed how they blended with the wooden panels of the slot machine and darted between the machine and I like a scared animal. He gripped harder, preparing himself for what was next to come.
“All is fine, sir.” I spoke, kneeling to be at the man’s eyelevel. He was in tears, holding on even harder.
“This can’t be it, can it?” The man spoke, his voice wavering with each word he spoke. I looked towards the slot machine’s display. All skulls. Next to his hand a tipped cup.
“You’ve lost your coins… I’m afraid it might be…” I laid my hand upon the man’s back.
“You’re afraid…? I’m afraid too…” The man coughed, and its nasty sound echoed throughout the hall. I patted his back gently.
“It’s not bad… To let go and accept it… My father had to…” Tears began to well up in my eyes as I spoke of my father. “There’s a better life awaiting you beyond the golden doors….”
“They all say that… But do you believe in that?” He stiffened. I did, too. I didn’t believe it. The casino was a cruel place at times, I knew that, but life beyond the golden doors was full of mystery. The casino gave you a “mystery,” but you knew it only had two answers. You either double your money or lose it all. Life beyond the doors was different… There were many answers, and unlike doubling your money, none of them were considered the best outcome.
“You started this, Grace, put him out of his misery.” Thomas spoke behind me. His voice had been the same tone as in the room with the blemished boy.
“I’m sorry…” I began once more, “I don’t know if it is or not… To be out there is scary… But…”
“But?” The man looked up to me, hope in his eyes, hope that was misplaced.
“But…” I started again. Yet there was no finish.
“You’re out! Don’t come back in here again, or we’ll have your head! Do you hear me!?” Thomas had taken the man’s back collar and threw him with the force of god against the floor. The man had been thrown in the direction of Jerry, and upon his impact, he had let loose the control of his cough. Splattering onto the boots of Jerry was something black. Thomas hadn’t noticed and went to pick the man up once more, tossing him with brute strength towards other staffers. The man was unable to put up a fight or crawl away as the staffers surrounded him. “Take him! Throw him out front or out back; I don’t care what you do so long as I don’t see him in here again!”
I only had gotten a glimpse of the staffers picking up what remained of the man before Thomas put himself in front my eyes. “Cowardice. You call yourself a man, but you’re unable to do what needs to be done!” He shoved his hand into my pocket, removing my NyQuil bottle. “A ‘man’ like you does not need his trusty NyQuil.” The self-titled ‘scholars’ will often times say that words, they cut deeper than any blade could. I always knew that to be true, but I hadn’t known how true it would feel.
“Thomas,” I had begun to protest before I felt a hand rest on my shoulders. Jerry was there to stop me from talking more against our eldest. He shoke his head once.
“What is it, Grace!?” Thomas awaited a reply which never came. He turned, walking towards an elevator made of steel encased in gold, it’s crests dancing upon the walls. The design appeared to waver in some spots as if it were made by an unsteady hand. “You must not hesitate when a man’s chips and coin are out. He has lost his battle and is not a winner.”
“What does that make of us?” I questioned him.
“What does that make of you, more like.” Thomas hadn’t turned to face me when he heard the question. “I wasn’t the one who cast the bet.” The elevator doors opened and we had funneled inside. The walls were cold.
To speak truly, what floor we had taken was not known to me. The rage I had felt inside and my NyQuil no longer in hand had put my mind in a fog. To deprive a man of liquor is akin to deprive his body of blood. I had thought of how I might retake my NyQuil, more so than where we would head once the elevator doors open. I seldom remember when they had, yet I remembered the scream.
We were out in the hallway when Jerry had released a scream full of blood, spittle, and scarabs. His body had fallen to the ground, limp and without fight. He hadn’t expected it. I could see it in his eyes. They were calm. Most likely imagining a leisurely walk in the hotel once the fight was over. The crimson blood pooled by his mouth, some scarabs getting their feet sticky with it and trailing it on the carpet as they approached Thomas’ trembling legs, some fell upon their back and twisted in it until they could no longer see, stumbling which way and the next.
Thomas had screamed as well, yet his was not full of terror, it was one of sorrows and a realization that the trifecta of your brotherhood would cease. He dropped to his knees, the scarabs crunching beneath his feet, holding Jerry’s head in his hands. He pet his matted white hair that now had speckles of red within. “Oh, Jerry. Jerry. Pleas-“
I could no longer bare to watch. The death rattle had released, and the last waves of energy were pulsing throughout his body, giving an almost uncanny resemblance to life before fading away. Thomas had known that whatever position he let go of Jerry that it was the position he would remain in for eternity as rigor mortis would soon set in.
Then, with the caress of his hand, Thomas felt Jerry’s face one last time, tears welling in his eyes. All he could mutter was his own brother’s name. He could have said no, could have said please once more, but it would not have restored life in those eyes.
What the police would ask of me or Thomas was none of our concern in that moment, nor was the fate that would lie once we combat the Mummy. The only question was how much we could make the Mummy suffer during his demise.
“The Mummy… The Mummy… The Mummy!” Thomas felt the inside of Jerry’s coat, pulling back a can of lysol. “The Mummy! THE MUMMY’S CURSE!” He stomped past me, towards the sign that read rooms 1900-1950.
There was 1910, 1911, 1912, 1913, 1914, 1915, 1916, 1917, 1918, 1919, 1920, 1921, then 1922. Each one we stepped past Thomas footsteps grew louder. The aspect of stealth was gone. The outfits mattered not. Now that I had thought about it, who did it fool? Did we even need the clearance? Where were the ID cards? Before I could ask, Thomas had taken his foot against the door, slamming it open.
Thomas released a shriek of war, taking the Lysol and spraying it before I could even see who it was inside. Yet I had no need of stepping inside for me to know. Punching Thomas in his belly and out of the room was the very man, Anubis. He stood tall, his body a shiny black fur, one that looked more akin to what one would find at a fabric store than of an actual animal. His breath was deep albeit muffled, his mouth staying stiff. “Your weapon carries little terror in it…” Anubis spoke.
I unsheathed my broom, the sound of it’s steel revealing itself caught the eye of the mad god. He turned without a single blink, his pupils appeared to be staring forwards no matter where he turned. I tightened my grip upon the broom as I approached him, trying my hardest not to show my fear.
“And you… What is your name?” Anubis began to walk towards me, leaving Thomas on the ground, wreathing in pain. I had seen cough and try to find the lysol before Anubis once more called upon me.
“It’s Grace.” I spoke, attempting to make my voice sound deeper than it was.
“It’s nice I don’t have a liar in my midst. You speak truly, unlike Thomas.”
I felt myself stiffen. The truth? I always would speak it. But Thomas? He was the eldest, I had learned from his all this time. And his name? “How do you know his name is Thomas? And truths? You speak of leading people to greatness before you drop them into the bowels of the underworld!”
“Make no mistake, I lead people to greatness, yet we never say what kind of greatness awaits. A great bout of evil may await or a great eternal life. If you speak of this about me then I can scarce imagine what you may think of your brother. After his promise to send your father to greatness.”
In that moment, lie or no, his words had taken me aback. My hands quivered, allowing Anubis the opportunity to see the fear that had brewed inside me since we had first set foot upon the quest to destroy the Mummy. Without so much as a thought, Anubis had begun to charge towards my body.
Reflexively, I raised my broom high above the sky, the same as I had watched Thomas, and laid the broom heavily down upon the head of Anubis, yet it had come of no use. His arms had had clamped down upon my torso like a great beast’s and brought me to the floor. As my head slammed against the floor the hallway began to ring, a tone in which took my sense from me. His paws slapped me back and forth across the face, each one slamming me gradually harder, my head snapping from left to right.
The pain had not been there. Whatever Anubis’ paws were made of, I found myself resistant towards. It had been as if they were made of no more than cotton balls. Balls. Balls, I thought. Balls. I had brought it upon myself to raise my knee directly into his groin, sending Anubis back. Before seconds, I had heard him
“Jesus! Dude! What the hell!?” Anubis had yelled towards Thomas and I, holding what remained between his legs. He took one hand off and removed his own head from his body, revealing a smaller human head in it’s place. I shuddered, standing up and backing away.
“Sorcery!” I shouted onto Anubis who now bore the head of a human. “What is this, Anubis!?”
“My name is Ben! For christsake! What is wrong with you guys!?” The so-called Ben stood up and backed away from me and towards the hotel room. “Come out here! There’s two of these psychos!”
Thomas lay on the floor, collapsed. He had been reaching for the lysol but had seemingly now went unconscious. Who could blame such a man? Despite Anubis disguising himself with a man’s head that called himself Ben, I had pressured myself to continue the assault. Jerry had fallen to this foe. I did not intend to suffer the same fate.
“He’s running right at me!” Anubis yelled running back into the hotel room and slamming it shut. Little did he remember that Thomas had busted the hinges off when kicking down the door. I attempted to push the door open yet Anubis had other plans, he most likely had propped himself up against the door to stop me from gaining access.
“Can you help me!?” He cried out to the other person in the room. The Mummy.
“He can’t help you!” I screamed. Looking back, I had seen Thomas. He was not unconscious. He had died. A gut punch was lethal to gamblers such as I. “FOR I AM THE ELDEST.” With the brutish force and arrogance of a deadpool cosplayer, I brought it to myself to put my full weight into the door. Three times it took before the door gave away, falling ontop of Anubis.
I had looked down to see the work I had done. Beneath the door I could see the paws of Anubis alongside plastic bags. Squinting my eyes in the dark, I could make out the worlds play sand. As my eyes traveled up I could see that the floor in the hotel room was covered in it, the play sand, with mounds being built, sand castles to rival the most expensive plastic molds, and all accumulating in a massive pile next to a desk that was surrounded by various treasures. Illuminating the treasure was a laptop, open to some various pages online that contained images of my home—the Casino.
A cord was attached to the computer, wrapped in linen, and following it brought my eyes to who was behind it all—the Mummy. He was wearing a computer headphone set, his microphone in front of where I believed his mouth to be. It was all bandaged yet wet in that area. On the desk was a can of soda, no doubt the liquid that covered his mouth bandages.
“Mmhrpmm mhhhhmmmh mmmhmmm mhrphhh” The mummy spoke.
“What do you speak of!?” I pointed my broom towards him. “I shouldn’t even question you. I should slay you where you sit.”
“Hmmmrmmrmr mrpgmn mgmrmgpg mgmrpmg mmm mmhhmhmhmrrrrhhmmmm hrmmhp hmmhrpmm hhmmphrphpr hpmhprmphrmmmmm mmmpprhmm hmmmeppmh mmmhhmhmmeppee mmmmrhmmhp h hhhmmm mprprrmmmmhmhmp” The Mummy finished his last word with a sort of poignancy.
“I have no idea what you just said,” I claimed. But I had understood it all too clearly. Jerry’s head did indeed just do that. I should have seen the signs. Yet the Mummy still had sent Anubis to kill my brother and put his curse on me. So it had been time to finish him off once and for all.
“S… Sucker….” Anubis spoke beneath me. I fell for the trick, looking down and taking my guard off the Mummy. Suddenly, a portal ripped from out beneath me. I had fallen.
2025: Little Six, Prior Lake, Minnesota
I had found myself in the casino once more, yet I was on the floor. My chips were gone. My brother dead and the other slain. The Mummy… Gotten away… I had been so close before the Mummy pulled his dastardly trick…
As I look back on my history, I can recall everything that happened… Long ago, in a distant casino, the Mummy, a master at controlling Anubis unleashed a despicable curse on the casino. Before a foolish gambler such as I wielding a broom stepped forth to oppose him. Now, I seek to return to the past and undo the future, which is the Mummy. I have to get back. Back to the past.
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