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Part 4: The Game Begins

Angela got up late the next day as usual. She rose up out of her soft bed like the dead rising from a tomb. Getting up in the morning was always a major back breaker for Angela. She walked into her bathroom awkwardly like a zombie.

The reflection she saw in the mirror wasn’t very great. Then again she never really liked the way she looked. She saw the same pale, plain face. Angela was never a real beauty queen, yet she always had a fantasy about it. Being one of the pretty girls would always have been a big complement to herself in high school or even at college sometimes. She turned on the faucet and ran the water until it started to feel cool on her finger tips. Once the water was cool she started to throw some water on her face. After a few cool splashes she dried her face off and walked into her kitchen, as she walked across the floor she started to notice something strange in the atmosphere.

The room almost seemed pale like colorless to her. All the noises from cars and other vehicles outside were completely silent. She started to look around the motionless room silently. Taking deep breaths she walked over to her refrigerator. Slowly she opened the door. Although nothing jumped out at her. Suddenly she could hear the sounds of cars outside again. She shook her head with confusion then took out a carton of orange juice. After a quick drink and a croissant she quickly got changed. Soon she was out the door locking it and closing it behind her.

Miles away in the city, the Kawasin was planning his next move. Outside the massive museum known as Anciet World Museum of Artifacts stood a Chinese man wearing a navy blue blazer and neck tie. He smiled slightly at the sign in big metal letters then entered the building. He paid his way through the front desk and proceeded through the museum. The man had a very strange walk, he seemed like he was up to something devious. He walked through the section of Anciet Egyptian art. There were many pots and sculptors of the anciet world in the area but he didn’t have the time or the interest to look at them for very long. Soon he came to the end of the hall where there was a big staircase leading up to the next floor. On his way up the stairs he passed a couple of elderly people. He came to the top of the stairs and then continued his walkabout through the museum. Now it was the hall of Japanese art. He simply ignored the beautiful paintings and sculptors and still continued his walk. Just as he came to the end of the quiet hall he saw the room he was looking for, it was the one that said staff only. With an evil grin he walked through the door and into the new hallway.

This hallway was the secret passage way to the archeologists of the building. He kept walking down the hall looking straight a head and complete ignoring all the guards. The guards almost seemed like wealthy bouncers with their big shoulders and blazer coats and ties. There where only a few he saw but the fewer the better. Within a few moments he came to the end of the hall and found what he was looking for. Above the boor frame in gold letters said Jon Sprous.

“Excellent,” he said to himself.

He walked over to the door and just before he could grab the cool golden door knob someone had to stop him.

“Halt! Are you an invited person that Mr. Sprous ordered himself?” a large black man asked in a long sleeve blue button down dress shirt.


“Well then stay right there,” said the guard walking over to him. “He ordered that no one is to bother him today not even the president.”


“Yes. Really,” the guard stated again squinting at him in frustration.

“Say I am more than the president. Say I am more powerful than the pope,” he said in an evil voice walking towards the black man.

The guard thought that this guy was a complete lunatic. For a minute he thought about grabbing his radio to call the front office to tell them that he was dealing with an absolute cook. When he somehow got the feeling to say no. He had no clue why, he just couldn’t grab his radio. It was like he couldn’t do anything.

“Now tell me. Do you have a flight to catch,” asked the bizarre man.

“Ugh! yes,” said the security guard.”

With a burst of blinding light the security guard vanished into thin air.

“That takes care of that,” the cloaked demon remarked then stepped into the room.

When the demon entered the room he went straight for his prey. The far side of the room was where the man he wanted to speak to was sitting at his desk working diligently. He slowly approached Jon’s desk trying not to make a sound. Jon picked his head up from his work and looked at the man.

“Hello.” The demon welcomed deviously.

“Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

The Asian man smiled brightly then pulled a wheeled chair over to Jon’s desk, then he sat down.

“We have much to talk about,” said the Oriental with a deviously.

“Listen. I’m really busy today and if it’s about the artifacts I have recently discovered then-”

“I have nothing to do with your artifacts,” he said cutting Jon off.

“Then what do you want?”

“I would like to know some personal information about a young woman you work with.”

Jon looked at the stranger with disgust. Then dropped his pen and shook his head at the odd fellow.

“I’m sure you know that’s personal information. I’m really not allowed to give you that kind of info. Unless if I get the permission granted from the person your trying to reach. Another thing, who are you trying to reach.”

“I would like to know about Angela Swords.”

“I see, but like I said I can’t just giv-” he was cut off at the sight of the Asian man picking up his priceless clay Shang pot.

“Well it looks like you like Shang pottery,” the man said examining the pot.

“Where the hell did you find that!”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Please, put that down. That thing is worth a lot.” The odd man smiled at him deviously.

“I think you will prefer mine,” he said.

The Asian man took his resting right hand off the table and then reached into his right pocket of his pants. He pulled out something. Amazingly his pot looked the same exact looking kind of pot except his had an emerald gem in the center of it and it was made out of pure, shinning, gold.

“You like?” he asked as he folded his hands.

“How! How did you, do that!” he asked as he gazed at the pot. “It looks just like the other one. There both about 7 inches tall and are thin with Shang writing on the sides. Except this one has an emerald in the middle of it.”

“Now you see I mean business now get me my requested information.”

“Are you some kind of magician or do you collect artifacts too.”

“Yes as a matter of fact I am. I can get you more.”

“Really is there like a limit to your tricks?”

“Your imagination is your only limitation. Now will you listen to my orders.”

“Sure,” Jon said with looks of amazement on his face as he picked up the golden thin pot. The Kawazin’s power was already starting to infect and plague Jon’s simple but strong mind and spirit.

“I’m actually an old high school friend of Angela. I travel a lot and I’m only going to be in New York for a few days, it would mean a lot to me if I could find out were she lives. Tell me what she’s like.”

“She’s kind of plain and sometimes she can be a little-”

“No! No! I’m not worried about if she’s a bitch or if she is attractive. I want to no how tough she is or how persistent.”

“Your very weird, but I like you though. Will she is pretty tough and when she finds what she wants she keeps attacking at it.”

The Oriental man just sat there and nodded as he listened.

“Very good,” he thought. “Angela sounds like the way she was in old days. I will be pleased to meet her again.”

Then the Oriental man stood up from his seat and straightened his tie. He had already heard more than enough and he was through with his slave.

“Well do you need to know more.”

“No thank you I have heard enough.”

“I would like more treasures,” he said as the Asian man walked out. “And I never got your name.”

“Name’s Philip Jay sorry I didn’t let you know in the first place. Tip over your pot and you’ll find something,” he said as he walked out the door.

Jon turned over the vace and out poured perils like cereal from a box.

Miles away Angela sat at a long rectangular table inside a library. The library was the biggest she knew of in Manhattan. She was reading a book on Babylonian history. Flipping through the pages she saw many colored and black/white photographers. However, she didn’t see much that talked about their forms of writing and how did it work. The section on their literature talked about cuneiform and how it worked with wedge shaped letters. On one of the pages that talked about their history it said that their earliest forms of writing consisted of picture-like symbols. The section on literature also mentioned the great writing piece known as Epic Of Gilgamesh.

She closed the book then put her head down on the table gently.

“I’m never going to find out what that thing says,” she said to herself softly in a moaning voice. Suddenly, a great though came to mind. “Hey Dr. Star knows a lot about this kind of stuff. Perhaps he would know.”

Angela knew he had the day off but he always had the huge interest in doing things with his students. He was an older man around sixty but he was in great shape for his age and had lots of energy. She called him at his house and asked him if he would like to read about a Babylonian tablet she found. Dr. Star of course said yes. Angela got in her car and drove down to his house as fast as she could.

When she pulled into the driveway of the small one floor house she assumed that nobody was home. From the window she could see that all the lights were turned off. The house was red with a brown roof. She picked up the leather bag and walked up to his front and only door.

“Come in!” called a voice from the inside.

Angela opened the door and stepped into the small house. She saw him sitting in his easy chair across from the kitchen over in his living room. The Dr. was wearing a sweater and a pare of jeans with no shoes. He looked over at her and smiled. Though the smile was old, it was bright.

“I have the tablet,” she said. She walked over to him and sat on the floor across from him. Then she uncovered a stone tablet.

“Oh my god,” he said studying the stone tablet carefully. “Where the hell did you get this?”

“That doesn’t matter. What matters to me is if you can read it.”

“Well I could try,” the old man said placing his specks over his eye’s. He knew

Angela wasn’t a thief of something like this. Since she was always a good student to him he would never mind trying to read something this exotic.

Dr. Star began to look at like a jewel owner inspecting a rare gemstone. He began to murmur something under his breath as he opened it up. Angela could see that he really did have all of his attention devoted to this tablet.

“I though it was written with picture like symbols since there are small pictures all over it,” Angela said.

“I know but there all in the corners and don’t seem to make a pattern,” he spoke turning over the tablet. “I think I have an idea of what it says or what it’s trying to say.”

Angela jumped over to his side and looked at it carefully with him. She wondered if he knew what the horse-man slaying the Griffin or what the baboon meant. Dr. Star placed a right index finger below his nose and scratched at his upper lip with curiosity.

“It says on this page I think, it says man or woman who anger the bird and horse will summon forth these demons.”

“So that’s what its say’s about those things. How long have you studied Babylonian literature?” she asked.

“For about 3 to 4 years. This one here, with the baboon thing it says he who steal form the ape will be haunted by this creature.”

“Spooky,” spoke Angela in a calm voice.

“This one here is a winna,” he said confidently pointing at the one with the curly sheep horns. “He or she who strive for this piece will-” he was cut off when he saw a crack going through several of the symbols below the devil man’s picture. “I can’t read this I have no clue what it say’s right here,” he said pointing to were there was a big crack in a sentence. “I can read somewhat after that big crack.”

“What does it say,” Angela demanded.

“It say’s he or she will perish for eternity without a soul,” he spoke with a slight tone of terror. When he said that sentence it seemed like he started to lack self-confidence. Dr. Star then handed the tablet back to Angela gently. Angela felt a cold felling take place in her body.

“I’ve gotta go now,” she said jumping up. Then she went out the door in a rush without thanking Dr. Star.

Colin Clifford

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