1
David Monroe was a scholar. Young and handsome, he had just received his doctorate and was now embarking on the career he always wanted. Since a young boy his imagination had been captured by a palpable sense of mystery and wonder he associated with ancient relics and ruins, those whispers of a time long past and scarcely remembered. Now as a newly minted archeologist, it was to become his life’s work.
At the moment, he was not on any excavation, but was teaching at the university from which he graduated. It was satisfying work, but not as satisfying as an archeological dig, but would have to do for now. He had already assisted on quite a few, some in Egypt and others in Mesopotamia.
It was the nineteen-twenties. Archeology was still a fairly new science. One couldn’t help but be intoxicated by the newness of it.
What secrets would they find? What mysteries would they unearth? There were more questions than answers. So many precious artifacts had been lost. So many were destroyed and those that were found were often indecipherable. But that was what made the work so invigorating. It was the investigation, the exercise of the intellect that made it worthwhile. Monroe was seduced by it. But he would come to be seduced by something else, something he never expected to find. For there were some secrets that should never see the light of day, some knowledge that should remain lost. But he like most scholars of his day would have laughed at such assertions. They had nothing to fear. The only thing to be feared was the darkness of not knowing, to shed the light on the unknown that was their calling and their curse.
2
He was finished with teaching for the day. His friend and colleague Williams requested that he see him in his office. Monroe answered that he would visit him in due haste. He quickly left his classroom, adjusting his spectacles as he briskly walked down the hallway.
Williams’ office was just down the hall and to his right. He let himself in. Williams looked delighted to see him.
Williams was a short man, his stomach round, his hair balding, he wore a mustache that was waxed at the tips, meant to compensate for his hair loss.
“Come in, I have something most exciting to show you,” he announced.
Williams opened a drawer and took out a stone tablet. It was old and worn; ancient it had to be at least two thousand years old. From the look of it Monroe thought it might be even older than that, and it was of Egyptian origin. Written in hieroglyphs, it had been unread for who knew how long.
“Where did you find it?” Monroe asked.
“We found it on a site close to Cairo. However I have been unable to translate it. I was wondering if you’d be so kind as to do it for me.”
Monroe had a reputation for skillfully translating ancient languages.
“It would be my pleasure,” Monroe replied.
“Splendid. I’m sure you’ll crack it in no time.”
Eager to begin his newest assignment, Monroe took it to his office and left it there, intending to look at it the next day.
3
That evening he had dinner with his fiancée, Eliza. She was a beautiful woman of twenty-five years, her hair blonde, her eyes the most spectacular green. Monroe always found himself spellbound by her enchanting gaze, unable to break away from it, but tonight he was too consumed by the mystery concerning the tablet.
He told her about it.
“I wonder though, do you think it will turn out to be that important?” she asked. She too was a scholar, not one of ancient artifacts, but one who studied medieval history and literature.
“We won’t know until I translate it. It has the usual hieroglyphs that one can find. I don’t know why he couldn’t do it himself.”
“Williams was never good at translation.”
“He’s admitted as much to me,” Monroe replied, slicing his steak.
“I wonder though what it could be about?” Eliza asked.
“I’ll tell you whenever I find out,” Monroe replied.
4
Monroe arrived at his office the next morning. He looked at the tablet. It was written in a vernacular he had not seen before. He was unsurprised that Williams was confounded by it. It was old, maybe one of, if not the oldest Egyptian finding to date. Reading carefully through it he could make out a few sentences. With diligence he began and hoped to have it finished by the end of the week.
It took longer than that. The style of writing was difficult. Although it was Egyptian it appeared to be speaking of a topic that was not Egyptian at all. It spoke of a goddess whose characteristics he had never heard of in Egyptian lore. He suspected that it was from a cult of unknown origin that happened to be writing in the Egyptian style. He wondered who these people could have been. He put little credence into stories about older unknown civilizations, particularly Atlantis, but as he read this document he could not help but wonder.
It was a tantalizing idea, but one he was not ready to accept.
He was a scholar and so he would not believe it until he had hard evidence. But wherever it came from, the document told very little about its origins, leaving him with no choice but to speculate.
It was a laborious process, full of guesswork and when he was done he wasn’t very confident he had done a very good job at translating it. But he understood the gist of the tablet and sometimes that was all one could hope for in findings such as these.
The goddess it referred to was known by the name Sadek. But it was said that she was a goddess originally worshipped by a people older than the Egyptians and that she ruled both the living and the dead. According to the tablet, she was privy to magical knowledge no mortal could stand to know. Monroe was fascinated.
It was striking how this goddess seemed to walk within two worlds, other gods and goddesses of pagan origin were assigned specific roles and they never went outside their roles. Sadek on the other hand seemed to encompass much more than that. She was mother earth according to the text, but she was also heaven. She was life and death, and moreover she was good and evil in one.
5
He dreamt of her. At night he left his mundane world and found himself in the sandy realms of Egypt. He approached an ancient temple complex. A pyramid stood in the center. He heard drums in the distance. He approached, curious to see what was ahead. She sat before the pyramid on a golden throne. Her dress was as white as a lotus flower, her skin deeply bronze, and the wig she wore was of the richest black and so aromatically perfumed, that only a goddess of old would be worthy of wearing it. Her crown was gold and adorned with sapphires. A serpent was carved on the top, its emerald eyes striking.
She proudly sat before him. She was a beautiful woman and in her eyes he could see all that she was. She was life and death, beauty and terror. He was in awe of her and she knew it.
He bowed before her.
“You have awoken me, by deciphering my tablet, you have brought me back into the realm of mortals. I thank you for it. Too long have I yearned to look upon the world with fresh eyes. Much has changed since I last walked this earth.”
He had no words. What could he say to an ancient goddess?
“Stand,” she commanded. He did. She gazed at him. “You are mortal.”
“Yes,” he replied.
“Such a pity to be mortal, but perhaps I can change that, perhaps I can give you my power. But you must serve me in return.”
“What would you have me do?”
“Wait and see.”
She kissed him on the lips. They tasted like the sweetest honey. He awoke the next morning, perplexed.
6
He told no one. He feared what they might think. Clearly he was letting the tablet get into his head. It was just a dream, nothing more, nothing less.
She was nothing more than a forgotten goddess, once worshipped by an ancient cult, whose power was based on whether one believed in her or not. If he chose not to believe, then she had no power. That was what a god or goddess was, an archetype that once discredited had no power.
Science and reason had seen to the destruction of the gods. She had no power, not anymore.
But what if she did have power? What if there was truth to the idea that she could control forces beyond mere mortals? He told himself that such an idea was utter nonsense. There was no truth to the notion that she could be anything other than a figment of the imagination, that she was nothing more than a superstitious explanation for forces that were beyond ancient man’s control and understanding.
But even so when Williams asked him if he made any progress he lied and told him he was struggling.
“Take as long as you need to,” said Williams.
Monroe thanked him and said he would.
It was strange that he would do so. It was as if he feared that Williams might blaspheme her, as if she were sacred and needed to be treated as such. Monroe was not a religious man. So it was odd for him to do so. He thought of all religion as mere superstition, so for him to behave this way was quite out of character.
7
“You lied to him,” said Sadek.
“I did,” Monroe answered.
“Why?” she asked.
“For your protection,” he replied.
“I don’t need your protection. However I appreciate the sentiment.”
Monroe was falling in love with her. She knew it and that is what she wanted. To be loved is to be affirmed. To be loved is to have power and that is what she needed. Too long had she gone without the love of mortals and it was from them that she gained her strength.
“When you are alone and wish me to be by your side, say my name three times and I will come,” she instructed.
8
It didn’t take very long for that time to come.
Alone in his office, he wondered if what she’d said was true.
So he said her name three times.
And so she came. She appeared across from his desk, lounging on his sofa. He jumped, frightened.
“I told you I would come,” she said nonchalantly.
“You’re not here,” he answered.
She laughed. “I am real,” she kissed him. “What must I do to prove you that I am flesh and blood?”
He was quiet. She continued to kiss him. “My priests used to summon me like this and then they would know me. Would you like to know me?”
He nodded.
And so he did what she had wanted to do from the beginning.
9
He made love to her. Then there was no question that she was real. Now what to do? His love for her could no longer be ignored. He felt sorry for Eliza, who he loved as well, but not with the same intensity, the same passion. He would have to do something about it. What he would do, he didn’t know.
They met for dinner once again. As they talked and ate, Sadek sat close by at a table of her own.
He couldn’t stop glancing at her.
“Is something wrong dear?” Eliza asked.
“Nothing, everything’s fine.”
Eliza didn’t believe him.
She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she knew he was not the same.
10
Later that week, Eliza went to see Williams.
“I’m worried about David,” she said.
Williams had just served her tea.
“I think you’re worried for nothing,” said Williams.
“I’m not. I’ve known him long enough to know when something’s wrong,” she objected. She was right. She knew her fiancée, knew him well, in fact she almost knew him better than he knew himself. Before he courted her, she made a point to know all she could about the man she would eventually marry, whoever he was.
She loved him with all her heart and made sure that she did before she even considered marriage.
Eliza was certain that something was off.
“What about that tablet he’s been working on?” she asked.
“He told me he hasn’t made much progress on it,” said Williams.
“Really?” Eliza asked. “He told me the opposite. He said he’s finished it.”
“Strange,” Williams mused. “Perhaps he lied.”
“That’s just it. It’s not like him to lie.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him. Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll sort itself out.”
She wanted to believe him, but she couldn’t.
11
Williams was troubled. Why would David lie to him? It was absurd. What reason could he have? He would confront him over it. But what he didn’t know was how he would approach the situation, assuming it was even worth treating it as such.
He wasn’t angry, just confused by it. It was odd. Eliza had to be telling the truth. David would never lie to her.
12
The following morning Monroe was in his office. He held the tablet in his hands and he could hear her whispering to him, telling him all that he wanted to hear, what he wanted to know. Sadek told him how much she loved him and he told her the same.
He saw her everywhere, in his dreams and in his waking life. How could he not? Since he was the one who summoned her, who had brought her into the world.
He wanted to know everything there was to know about her, who she was, what she was. And what it meant to be a goddess and to be loved as much as she.
As he contemplated these thoughts, Williams knocked on the door.
In haste, Monroe put the tablet away and opened the door.
“I wondered if I might have a word with you,” said Williams.
Now that Eliza had said something, he noticed that David did look strange. There was something worn out in his appearance. He was pale and haggard.
“My boy, are you well?” Williams asked.
“I’ve never felt better sir. Why do you ask?”
“I just – “ Williams faltered. “Nevermind. About the tablet. Can I see it?”
“Of course sir. It is technically yours,” said Monroe.
Monroe reached for the desk drawer where he hid it. He took it out. It was irrational, but he had the sensation that he didn’t want to give it to him. It was his. He had awoken her. He alone knew how sacred she was and could treat her as such.
But he submitted and took it out and when Williams asked that he take it, Monroe complied. It made him feel bitter as if he had lost part of himself. He knew he had made a mistake.
13
With the tablet gone he no longer saw her, he no longer dreamed of her. Sadek was with another and was once again in her slumber. He hated it. He hated himself for having abandoned her and so he wanted to have her again. He would have her again. He needed her as she needed him.
14
He returned to the college. It was faint, but he could hear her whispering. She was calling to him. He went into Williams’ office. Williams sat behind his desk. Monroe had come prepared. He would do what he had to do. He shot Williams in the chest, blasting him into the wall.
Williams fell dead in a crumpled heap. David took the tablet from the desk. He caressed it. At last they were reunited, he and his love. She was his true love, not Eliza. Eliza had never made him feel this way; he would never kill for Eliza. But for Sadek, his goddess, he would kill for her, and he would kill a thousand times more.
15
Monroe stood before her, with Williams’ body beside him. She sat on her throne before her pyramid. Surrounding her were priests in white robes, their heads covered in masks that depicted other Egyptian gods. Some wore jackal masks; others were hawks, cats, and crocodiles.
She smiled.
“I knew you would do what had to be done. He would’ve kept you from me, but no more. Now we are together and will be together for the rest of time.”
She inched closer to him. They kissed.
“Now show your devotion to me.”
A priest came and carved open Williams’ chest. He took out his heart.
“Eat of it, so that you will remain a part of me and I you,” said Sadek.
Monroe hesitated. This was the ultimate act of desecration, an act that would forever cut him off of his modern world of civilization and propriety. But then it would bring him closer to her, she, who he loved more than his own life or anything else in the world. He would oblige her, because he had to, because she needed him, as he needed her.
He took it in his hands. It was bloody, and disgusting to look upon, to touch, and to feel in his bare hands. It was wet and slippery. But his stomach did not retch as he had first expected it to. He was compelled to eat. He tasted it.
He took the first bite. And then like an animal he continued to eat, not stopping, letting the blood cover his mouth, letting it caress his tongue and when it was completely devoured, she grabbed him and kissed him once more, now they were one.
Then she told him of her secret, of her magic. She would show him. Eager to know, he went with her.
They approached the pyramid. There was a small opening. They went inside. He hunched over as he followed her. She led the way into a magnificent chamber with a vaulted ceiling that was supported with columns.
“This is where I keep my secrets,” she said.
She went to a vast stone door. It was covered in hieroglyphs. Monroe was eager to see what was inside. Once he saw it, he would never be the same.
What was in there was too horrible to describe, too vile to give words. And when he saw it, he immediately regretted it. His sanity snapped. This was what she wanted all along. She laughed. She called him a fool. She would never love a mere mortal, but he loved her and that was his mistake, his curse.
Now he was her prisoner and would remain so, for the rest of his life and beyond.
16
Eliza had not heard from David for days. She was worried, more worried than she had been before. She decided to go to the college and find him. She went up to his office. When she came to the door, she smelled what seemed to her to be of feces. It couldn’t be, she thought. And then she heard a voice babbling. It was David’s voice. She opened the door to a sight she would never forget.
Monroe was stark naked, covered in his own feces. The floor was a mess. With a letter opener he had carved all sorts of hieroglyphs, of what she did not know, but she knew that it was abominable. He had a crazed look in his eyes and was talking to himself, muttering words from a language she didn’t understand. Beside him lay a dead Williams, his chest cavity torn open, his heart missing.
Before she could scream, she fainted.
17
Shortly after that, another professor who heard her collapse on the floor above found them. They were promptly taken to the hospital. Eliza came to, uninjured but traumatized. However she eventually recovered. As for Monroe he would never recover. He spent the rest of his days in an asylum, forever in the state Eliza found him. He got what he wanted. He and Sadek would always be together.