(continued from In the Kingdom of the Desert Rose (Part VI.)…)
…Suddenly, she wakes up. Still dazed and confused, with the strong feeling that she is not alone. Cold sweat was running down her hot body, that was trembling like in a great desert fever. She felt some weight on her, like somebody or something is pushing her down on the ground, like someone is sitting on her.
She saw a strange dark creature lying on top of her, hot and trembling like herself. She couldn’t see its face. But she could feel its disgusting smell and sweat combined with high moisture in the break of the dawn, just outside the gates of her slave master’s house. Her clothes were ripped of, lying on the ground, her beautiful red dress. And all the jewellery scattered around her body, broken into pieces.
She could feel him inside her hot body, enjoying every moment that he had with her. Now she remember who the creature was. Who he was. A young man from the old tavern, a foreigner that she insulted so badly, that she played her games with his young mind. He followed her in the night.
If she just didn’t stumbled upon that horrible demon creature, she would run away. She could be at home. Sleeping in her wooden bed. Tired from the night out. Tired but happy. But know she lies in this dirt, sweaty and in the firm embrace of this foreigner. He was just to strong, she could’t push him away. She tried, but the more she struggled, the more violent he became.
And then everything was over. He was finished, lying beside her on the dusty ground of the lustful city of Hut-Ka-Ptah. She could finally bread the air. At first she was emotionless, she couldn’t feel at all. No anger, no hate, no vengeance. Then, her rebellious spirit awoke again, like many years before, when she was younger.
She remembered all the shame that she suffered. The old slave master and his lustful servants, the mercenaries that raped her and beat her constantly on their long journey from her land to this land of sin, pain and torture. She remembered all the men from her own land from the north. And she remembered her dead parents, her sisters and brothers.
Fire was burning in her eyes. The rebel girl was live again. On the edge of her tattered dress, she could feel something sharp and long, a knife that she always carried with herself in this darkest nights, just in case she could need it. And now she knows the time has come for her to end all of her sufferings.
While the man was still resting on the ground, she took the knife and stabbed him so viciously, so strong and fast that he didn’t had the time to react. She stabbed him in the face, in his heart, in his hands and knees, while he was desperately trying to get away, to get up and run, to cry for help. But nobody was there to help him in his misery and pain. Like it was nobody to help her when she raped her and made her cry.
The blood run down his wounded body, thick and red. He knew his time has come. The last moments on this godforsaken land are over for this young man, a boy that just couldn’t take no for an answer, a boy who’s life had just began. And now he will die. His young adventurous soul will leave this place of sodomy and lust.
When she saw what she has done, she got up from the ground, threw the bloody knife out of her hand, and run away.
But where to run?
Where to hide?
She was a murderer.
She knew she couldn’t get away with this. Not like before. They will hang her or bury her alive in the tomb of some nobleman, like a slave who follows his master on the other world, on the world of mighty god Ptah.
She can’t go home. She never had a real home. Not after Hittites burned her village and massacred its residents. She has to run away, as far as possible from this place of misery and horror. To get out of the town, through its gates and into the hot dessert, the kingdom of the dead. She has to find the way out of here. And she has to be quick, before the sun beams illuminate the streets of this dark and cold resting place.