It’s a hard fact for many men to admit, but some of us are meant to lead and others are meant to work and toil for the leaders. I was born to lead, chosen by the Gods they told me and I believed them. I believed I would be given an afterlife worthy of a God, all because of my lineage, I was mistaken. Turns out death is much the same as life, if you want to enjoy it you need gold.
For millennia this wasn’t an issue, I was rich in life and my servants had made sure to bury me with my wealth. For a long time I lived better than before, but recently that has all started to change. My coffers are running dry, my food supplies dwindling. A life of rations is not one fit for a Pharaoh.
I peered back into the mortal plane in search of answers and answers I found, men of the future pillaging my tomb. Stealing from a Pharaoh is a crime worthy of death and death they shall have.
I sit now as a poor man in the fields of Aaru, each day looking back onto the mortal plane, onto my tomb. I pray the greedy fools cut my linen bandages and release my soul back to the mortal plane. No Gods will be able to stop me, no Hell will be capable of holding me. These men shall die screaming and spend eternity in an after life much poorer than mine.
By Taylor Thompson
Don’t normally use writing prompts, but this one really intrigued me.