The Guardian of The Cursed Sword | Prompt #48

Johnson looked out the window, as the sun shone in, cutting from left to right, hitting the small painting on the table to the right. The 25×15 centimeter painting with sunflowers was arranged together with a classic vase without contents or empty, where both of them leaned against the wall while at the foot of the table there was a hard case containing something that seems very valuable.

From the bedroom window he could see the river ahead. The river that stretches across the inn, and especially in the late afternoon is the best time to enjoy the scenery from the balcony while enjoying a cup of lemon tea to calm the mind.

In these two days, Johnson loved to spend the afternoon with such good ideas. He likes to look at the golden river fields because of the effect of the sun's rays on the surface of the river.

Sometimes there are two or three ships that move slowly and pass from upstream to downstream. Two-story ships carry passengers who are mostly tourists, just like Johnson, who has only been recorded staying on the outskirts of Reine for four days.

Three days ago, Johnson was a man in a loose-fitting beach-colored shirt and black shorts and flip-flops passing through a mysterious second-hand market. The Fedora he's wearing is believed to be a special code by a man standing under a billboard that says "electronics."

"Shhh!" The man tried to whistle but it sounded more like a hissing snake, and Johnson caught the call by chance.

He immediately realized what the mysterious man meant when he saw the code through his fingers. Without further ado, he immediately approached, and by the man, he was given a signal to enter the shop where the man was—he looked down a bit because the store's canopy was installed too low.

The atmosphere in the secondhand market actually didn't seem too crowded, but the visitors came continuously and came quietly, indicating that the place was not a random place. The place is also not too wide, even tends to be small, but along the road made of paving blocks, left and right there are dull tents with various old objects.

Several shops with old signage seemed to be hiding behind a canopy where old things were strewn on the tarpaulin-covered floor. Johnson had just passed one of the piles of electronics he had never seen in his life.

"It's just an ordinary old radio, the owner is just too crazy to turn it into a signal receiver from an extraterrestrial," the man guiding him explained happily, as if he understood what was going on in Johnson's head.

Looking back, the man who was about twice Johnson's age had a scar on his right hand and an inverted pyramid tattoo on the back of his wrist. Regarding the logo, Johnson does not need an explanation from the man.

The Red Triangle is a banned organization in a number of countries. The organization filled with whale-class thieves is listed as a suspect in the intensive disappearance of a number of rare and valuable objects in museums in the world in recent years.

"This way," said the man, "oh yes, introduce me, my name is William," he added.

Johnson didn't say much. He just nodded slightly and looked unconcerned, his eyes focused more on making sure his feet wouldn't step into the puddles that filled the stinky little hallway they were passing—Johnson was also fumbling in his trouser pocket to make sure everything was running by the rules.

A few moments later, they had arrived at a stuffy room. No one else in the room had that meager light except for the two of them, and also a stone cube with a strange pattern around it.

"Well, now we have arrived at the death sword of ancient Egypt. The legacy of the old war between demons and humans in the zero century Egypt, please friends, please—ha-ha-ha," said the man.

Suddenly the curtain rose up, and took out several people consisting of men and women from behind it. However, Johnson was not surprised at all.

"All right, ladies and gentlemen, get out your suitcases," and the auction began.


Dusk had just passed, but Johnson could still see the deep red color at the tip of the pine tree across the river, and before it was pitch black. Suddenly Johnson began to feel uneasy: he looked again at the hardcase placed at the foot of the table.

Because the room lights weren't on yet, it was clear that the strange writing motifs that came out (translucent) from behind the hardcase filled the room. The phosphorescent green was like a flickering light on the disco floor, and suddenly the room started to fill with smoke as well.

A moment later, Johnson heard someone knocking on the door. But in just a few seconds that Johnson was not alert, the door leaf flew towards him very fast.

Johnson jumped aside and hid behind the bed, the door slamming into the wall. At that moment, Johnson automatically moved to grab a mini pistol from his shirt pocket.

When he peeked, "damn," he cursed inwardly.

It turned out that the one on the other end was the same creature, who massacred everyone in the dungeons of the secret market. The foul-smelling creature turns out to be a mummy.

"Pew, pew!" Johnson shot, but the mummy looked immovable.

The mummy began to walk in, slowly. Every step he took left a mark like he had just been hit by hot volcanic lava, emitted smoke, and sounded like a hot frying pan hit by water, all at once a bad smell.

"What?!!! Damn!!!," Johnson was surprised because the mummy was suddenly in front of his nose. His face was badly shattered, while his teeth hung limp and black.

He tried to direct his fist, but it was too late. Johnson was thrown backwards because he was hit hard by a leg consisting of a mass of flesh and a hard bandage.

He had to find an opportunity because now he was cornered. Suddenly, the cursed creature opened its mouth wide and from inside its mouth a white light gushed out which grew as it opened its mouth—Johnson could see a tiny dot that was blazing and swaying like a firefly in the dead eye.

"I once survived your clutches, ugly, I've been through a lot in this world," thought Johnson, "and I'm not going to die here!" he cried, stabbing the muzzle of the gun in his hand into the small hole of the mummy's eye.


The creature bounced back. This was an opportunity, he immediately hit the window and jumped behind the balcony before the mummy got up.

"Am I safe?" Johnson thought as he landed onto the grass that was the inn's grounds and gardens. However, up there, the creature was still standing there, between the windows holding the cursed stone cube.

"ꫝꪊꪑꪖꪀ! ᥇ꪗ ꫝ᥇ꪖꪀꪊƺ꠸ᦓ' ꪮ᥅ᦔꫀ᥅ᦓ, ꪗꪮꪊ ᭙꠸ꪶꪶ ꪀꪮꪻ ᦓꪊ᥅ꪜ꠸ꪜꫀ, ꪶ꠸ᛕꫀ ꪻꫝꫀ ꪮꪻꫝꫀ᥅ᦓ. ᥇ꫀᥴꪖꪊᦓꫀ ꪗꪮꪊ ꫝꪖꪜꫀ ᦔꪖ᥅ꫀᦔ ꪻꪮ ꪻꪮꪊᥴꫝ ꪻꫝꫀ ꫝꫀ᥅꠸ꪻꪖᧁꫀ ꪮᠻ ꪻꫝꫀ ᭙ꪮ᥅ꪶᦔ ꪮᠻ ᦔꪖ᥅ᛕꪀꫀᦓᦓ, ꪻꫝꫀꪀ ᦔ꠸ꫀ¹!" The mummy suddenly spoke with one hand pointing at Johnson, before he leapt into the sky and silhouetted against the full moon backdrop. His eyes were still red and swaying, while his hand was carrying the sword that was previously inside the hardcase | inspired by prompt #48 The Ink Well.



¹Human! By Hbanuzis' orders, you will not survive, like the others. Because you have dared to touch the heritage of the world of darkness, then Die!

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