i send the pestilence and plague into your house

The one good thing about being a member of the undead was that every night’s sleep would be the best rest of your life… Er, unlife. The night of the incident, Akiila slept soundly in his sarcophagus, and the heavy lid provided excellent sound proofing, for better or worse. While he slumbered, it was unbeknownst to him that something was wrong. He could sense something in his dreams, or whatever premonitions conjured up in his millennia old mind. Until later mornings came, he firmly believed everything was as it should be.

~~

It was later that week, and business was slow. Akiila was meandering about his main room, looking all around his stock in gloating admiration. His potions were fully in stock, so all that was left was to wait for the customers to pour in.
”You know, Nefera, something tells me that the Underground isn’t what would usually be called a thriving area of real estate.”

He spoke to a fennec fox behind him. She was too busy preening herself to really notice what was going on. Honestly though, most of Akiila’s ramblings flew right over her head. Usually, they weren’t of any real significance.

However…

”But with such a wonderful collection, why wouldn’t residents of this island be flocking here by the dozens?” He asked aloud, before gesturing to the Pharaoh's Mask on the wall, with dozens of ‘no touching!’ warning sides around it. ”Take that for example. I’m sure if I were to send some of my most precious trinkets to the Smithsonian they would have a field day analyzing it, just as I would have riches beyond my wildest imagination. But, where’s the fun in that? Sure, nobody is able to afford it. Such peasantry run rampant among this island. But if you’d just look..”

Wait a minute.

Akiila squinted his amber eyes at the mask. From his pocket, he pulled a golden handled magnifying glass from out his wrappings. ”This… This isn’t supposed to have a ruby right here… It’s usually..” His squinting face came within millimeters of the surface of the mask. His finger lifted, swiping the surface before slowly placing it on his tongue. Silence…

GASP!

”IT’S A HOAX!” He screamed loud enough to scare the poor fox, who jumped up from her spot in sheer fright. ”I’VE BEEN TRICKED! SWINDLED! FLIM-FLAMMED! BAMBOOZLED! ” Words streamed from his mouth as his body began to flit hastily around the building. Looking high, low, every nook and cranny was inspected. His heart would have been pounding if it were to beat. Alas…
”Nefera…! We’ve been… ROBBED?!”

He just couldn’t believe it. He stood in the middle of the store. His breath was shaking, as he was frozen in place to comprehend just what to do. Suddenly, a plan snapped into his head. Oh, they wanted to play this game? He took a deep breath. He approached the rack where a cloak and a witches hat were perched. He grasped both, placed them on his bandaged body, and offered an elbow for the fox to jump on. ”Well Nefera, you know what they say. You mess with the Ka, you get the horns.”
With a flip of his cloak, he stormed over to the vast potion gallery. It was dark, lit only by candelabras and the ominous green-glowing massive cauldron on the other side of the room. He grabbed several jars along the way- Mandible of Scarab, Sands of Sorrow, Folly of Man- just to name a few. Even Nefera, who was now on his shoulder, was carrying a glowing grey bottle labeled ‘HEX’ between her jaws. ”Ohhh Nefera, when I’m done with whatever low-life cretin that did this… Their entire ancestry is going to feel my wrath.” He cackled under his breath as he climbed the marble stairs spiraling around the story-sized cauldron. Once there, he lined up each bottle, about ten of them, along the ledge of the pot. He shook his head, reaching into his cloak to pull out a black-bound book. Shaking his head, he leafed through the pages.

”I didn’t want it to come to this. I just never figured someone would have the audacity to steal from me. But they leave me no choice.” Akiila held the book in one hand, and an ingredient in the other, One by one, he poured a jar into the cauldron.

”Oh Osirus, here my plea…
Return what was once taken from me...
Until the moment what was lost is returned,
In the anguish of plagues will the sinner burn.”


The chant was followed by a nonstop stream of screamed Arabic.The liquids inside began to fade into a deep, bloody crimson. Lightning seemed to spark out of nowhere, shooting directly into the cauldron. He dropped the book, raising his arms above his head.

”Now, go!”
The cauldron practically shot a self-contained geiser towards the heavens. Akiila grinned almost evilly, laughing maniacally as it begun.

Day one: A million locusts

​

The locusts swarmed every ounce of the thief's life. They followed her out of her home, but when it came to the yacht, they couldn't keep up with the salty ocean breeze. The plague of a million flying insects had been outsmarted by now. But Akiila and his curses didn't give up so easily. It would only go downhills from here. He had whipped up a quite nasty brew, and perhaps its worst ingredient was his extraneous dosage of vengeance.

***

Day two: The curse of the storm

The locusts were gone, and the sun shined bright across the vast blue. There was barely a cloud in the sky, minus the puffy white one that dotted the horizon occasionally. There were seagulls soaring ahead over the yacht, unaware of what was to come next.

While the thief was enjoying her newfound wealth, the second stage of the curse was to start.

crackle... crackle...

The sound of thunder fizzed from an unknown source. The origin soon would make itself apparent, as a tiny grey cloud began to form over her head.

It began to grow.

Each thunderclap caused the cloud to grow in a pulse, until it was about the size of pillow. With a final pulse, the pillow cracked a mighty clap of lightning. Then, in a heavy downpour, it began to rain.

Just on her.

The storm was unrelentless. It wasn't the light spring shower. It was a cold, winter born monsoon. Her own personal raincloud would follow her everywhere, and begin to fill the deck surrounding her. It would make everything wet. Clothes, hair, nothing belonging to her person was safe.

Occasionally, a flash of lightning would appear, scattering tiny bolts of electricity to the victim. This storm would be her companion for the next day, and would not for once lighten up.

Not for a second, not while his mask was still away.​

”...This isn’t working.”

Akiila was pacing in his apothecary. Nervously picking at his bandages, he was so close to unraveling- mentally and physically. That mask was worth more than the hefty price tag it was given. It was a piece of his culture that he never thought would leave his side, because nobody had the gall to buy it. And if they did, he’d be set for life. But it was stripped by him by some unappreciative buffoon from this island who probably hadn’t the slightest clue of its historical significance. They probably were just pleased as punch that they outsmarted the poor mummy and they were just *~sooooooo~* proud of themselves.

Had he been outsmarted? Ha! Of course not! He had more tricks up his wrappings.

...Right?

”That lowlife swamp slug should have slithered their way back here by now. How can anyone handle being perpetually moist!?” He stamped his foot as he tried to figure out what to do. He shot a glance at the fennec fox on the counter, who made soft barking noises as if she was cackling. ”Oh, so this is funny to you? Well I don’t see you coming up with any bright ideas!” He paused, tapping his foot more. He needed to up the ante. What would be too much for a person to handle, even after being enticed with millions of dollars?

...Maybe it wasn’t too much, but rather too little.

Akiila grinned evilly. He ran back to his cauldron, just to add a few more key ingredients…

~~~

Day Three: The Curse of Nothing

What a beautiful morning. The sun was shining and the temperature mild. It was a shame, considering Akiila had an extra dose of spite the night prior.

This of course, would work poorly in the thief’s behalf. Anything she would touch- non-living object, food, water- would disappear in a puff of sand. In fact, it appeared her on bed would give away at any moment...
​