Old Dogs

A little background information: I had been contacted a few months back to try coming up with a story with a simple premise of an Egyptian Deity meeting a modern day worshiper.Since the last time, outside of Stargate, I'd really had any contact with any ancient pantheons other than greco-roman was way back in ancient history studies about ten years back I felt i needed to do a little digging on the matter. Now that i think about it I'm pretty sure that was the primary reason for the request, to make me have to get out of my comfort zone of steam, alternative history, space, and or other Weird things. Well that or just because I suppose. Strange, I suppose, that the Egyptian pantheon is still worshiped.... though it seems to be a case of being incorporated in different wicca 'traditions' and afro-centric groups more than anything resembling classic cult worship. Best I did on the subject was skim here and there to get an idea of what would feel least outlandish on portrayals. Not sure how this will turn out, but here it is.

Of course I"m going to get ribbed for being a Pagan now by family. Why not? If I took the barbs at face value I'd be a Scientologist Muslim Atheist. Why not add Pagan to the mix too? :)

Now for the story!

Edit: I goofed on the post-date. Avert your eyes until Monday! The power of my ban-hammer compels you!

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Right. Every story needs a lead of some sort, and since this one focuses on a man meeting the God of Mummification let's make him a... no not a mortician, how about a Medical Examiner? Seems in line enough for my purposes. What about names? Names are very important after all, but I mustn't choose one th'ats too cliche, punny, or obvious. Richard 'Rickie' McAllister? Hm.... It seems to work well enough. How old is Mister Richard McAllister? Let's see. He must be trained as a physician for thsi line of work, possibly with some specialization in forensic medicine and or pathology. It takes a fair bit of dedication and time to manage all that. So, eight years of medical school plus another four or five in specialization. That would, I presume if my math isn't too far off, put Rickie in his early thirties. Let's add on a couple years of actually working and that puts him at a reasonabley vuage 'mid thirties' mark. Am I forgetting something? Ah yes the all important 'what does he look like'? We'll find that out as we go along. There's already more than enough in this little introductory paragraph as is.

We have a main character and a relative excuse to follow him around. Where are we following this man? Unfortunately it is one of those horridly not nice places. This story starts, as with so many others, with a dead body. The particulars of this body aren't important, but if you really must know I'll cut to the characters themselves.

Ricky was in the process of cataloging and recording details of his examination. He had concluded that death was caused by lack of oxygen due to being strangled by the silk cord tied around the poor man's neck. He further noted the chest wounds were done after death. Why? He frowned when he probed further.

Something was very wrong here. Everything was there, but the weights were wrong. Some too light, others too heavy. He hated probing further, but each organ needed to be cut open and examined. That's when he found the two thumb-drives.

Authorities needed to be notified. He couldn't risk examining the drives contents for fear that they might do something that couldn't then be repeated. Still, their presence had changed things. Killers don't go about leaving things inside bodies if they didn't want somebody that wasn't the victim to pay attention.

Ricky was partially disturbed and partially grateful when they were taken from him.

When work was over and he was allowed to go home he lit several incense sticks, bathed, and went to the shrine he had made in the corner of his bedroom. It wasn't an elaborate thing. A few candle holders for those short stumpy candles, a central place to make offerings (though mostly these offerings were burnt incense or other things that would mostly clean themselves up.... leaving food out only to have to throw it away later seemed wasteful, even if it represented a larger sacrifice on his part.)

His prayers weren't to the Christian God, Allah, or YHVH (Jehova).It certainly wasn't to 'Satan', or some other selfish being. Instead he had followed one of the many oddball paths that had opened up since the seventies, specifically he prayed to the Egyptian God Anubis.

Strange? Highly. However so long as a person isn't trying to cram their theocratic structure down your throat uninvited why should you care? It gives him comfort in a stressful situation, and he isn't hurting anyone.

He ended his nightly ritual of prayer and offering and indeed felt a little better about the world around him. He was in a profession that was around for at least the past four thousand years. If anyone understood his position surely this, one of the oldest beings in the body-cutting-up business, would.

Normally this would be the end of it. Nightly ritual preformed, stress released, but not tonight. Tonight he had a visitor. One that, though it obeyed the same physical laws (and had the courtesy of knocking no less) that we must and could easily be mistaken for human, was far from ordinary.

When Ricky answered the door he felt there was something different about this visitor. He also felt somewhat irritated because it was late and he was almost asleep. So when he pulled the door open he was quite.... irritated.

"Who are you?" He demanded in an even, but obviously angry, tone.

The visitor dipped his head slightly, perhaps..apologetically. "I'm sorry for waking you Richard. However, we have to talk." The man walked into his apartment as if it were his own. He didn't seem arrogant, as just assured he would get his way.'

"Who. Are. You. Here?" Ricky demanded of the man and started tto grab at his shoulders to put him back outside. He wasn't usually violent, but this man was pawing through his home, or at least he saw it as pawing. In reality this self-invited guest lightly touched a few different things Ricky had just used and made for his bedroom.

When Ricky tried his cellphone all he got was static. When he tried calling for help he couldn't speak. His moved slowly, marching him into his bedroom where he saw the dark skinned stranger kneeling in front of his makeshift alter as if inspecting it. "Considering the debts you're still paying off and how meagerly you live I suppose expecting better would be insulting. You've done a good job with what you've had, and for that I thank you."

"Just what do you think you're-" His voice stopped when the other rose a hand.

His face was apologetic and his hands held out where they could be easily seen. "I have not made a request of men in... a long time." His eyes were distant, focusing on nothing. "However the death of Eli Mohammad has forced me to seek your help."

"I have been called by many names. You have always called me Anubis, and I want you to find my murderer." That's when the resemblance hit him.

A twin perhaps? Ricky tried to rationalize the claim. Part of him wanted to believe this man's claim of who and what he was, but, "The divinities we have created never die so long as thre is faith to sustain them."

"Sit," No compulsion or forced obedience. "Please. You want proofs I am who and what i say I am instead of my being something as mundane as a crazed relative." He smiled at Ricky. "I do apologize... hopefully my story will be to your liking."

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