You stand at the entrance to the excavated hall. You feel a sense of excitement, of dread. This is it. After months of searching, you have finally discovered one of the fabled temples of Anubis. Sand whips around you like a dry blizzard as the storm rages overhead. The unbearable heat and blinding sand creates a feeling of vertigo, leaving you unsteady on your feet. Cradling your torch protectively from the harsh winds, you strike a match and set it to the oil-soaked rags. The torch bursts into flame, and you lower it down to illuminate the first dozen steps trailing down into the earth. You take one last look around. The desert is shrouded by the storm, and blowing sand tears and stings at your face. You blink away tears, rub a forearm across your eyes, and take the first steps down.

The howling of the wind gives way to silence, broken only by your footfalls on ancient stone and the blood pounding in your ears. Your torch throws shadows across the floor as you sweep it back and forth between the walls. The murals depict many familiar scenes of Egyptian culture, but nothing to distinguish this from any other tomb. As you continue on, a flicker of doubt worms its way into your stomach. Is this just another tomb? Some noble's son or royal guard who scraped together enough coin to warrant more than a ditch in the ground?

You descend further into the shadowy halls of the ancient crypt. Your footsteps echoed flatly into the darkness, mixing with the sounds of your own shallow breaths and the crackling of your torch. Rounding a corner, you discover a staircase leading further into the depths. On either side looms a statue of polished diorite, carved into the likeness of a hulking jackal. They stand tall and proud, their weapons held ready for combat. Muzzles pulled back in frozen snarls, the torchlight flickers over them, and you can almost see a glint of life sparkling in the jade stones set into their eyes. Relief fills your heart. Such splendid works as these would never adorn the tomb of some lowly noble! This might be... no! This must be the right place!

Ecstatic, you stride past them and down the staircase. But before your second step, a sudden wind rushes upwards from the abyss, snuffing your torch and plunging you into darkness. Groping blindly, you inch your way down the staircase and deeper into a tunnel. You stumble down the passageway for what seems to be hours. Then, you notice the light. It emanates from further down the tunnel, a faint glow that seems to thrum like the pulse of a living thing.

You hesitate, wondering what could possible light this tomb, which has not seen the light of day since the pharaohs walked the earth. The minutes creep by, until finally you choose to press on. The light grows brighter, becoming a roseate glow... and then a deep pink. After several twists and turns it shifts to a heavy red, and finally to a harsh and flickering crimson.

You emerge from the tunnel into a vast chamber. Columns wider than trees stretch off into the distance, and curtains of red light stream down from somewhere high above. You could swear that you hear flames, large and powerful, like funeral pyres eager to burn the world to ashes. Deep in the shadows to your sides, you glimpse shapes in the darkness. Sarcophagi litter the hall, their lids yawning open and empty. You see the outline of massive feet and legs, statues as tall to you as you appear to an ant. The crimson lights sparkles off gold and gems that lay piled in heaps, riches beyond your wildest dreams. And far in the distance, two pinpoints of green light twinkle like stars.

You follow those emerald sparks, wondering idly just how large this chamber can be, what purpose it could possibly serve? The green lights grow brighter, bigger, until they hang overhead like verdant moons, the red and green lights mixing into a soft, amber hue. Gazing upwards, your breath hitches as you realize that you are staring at yet another statue of Anubis, far larger than any you have seen before. The god of the afterlife glares down at you from what seems like miles above, as if disapproving of your presence in this place. The eyes of jade pin you in place, watching, knowing, judging.

With sheer willpower, you tear your eyes away. You find yourself on a balcony, almost an observation deck that looks down over a cluttered hall. Low altars and workbenches stand in endless rows, tools sit rusted upon rotted tables. With a start, your head snaps up to once more look at the massive statue. Compared to the snarling visages at the entrance, Anubis now seems reserved, peaceful, even loving. His posture is one of an attentive master inspecting his apprentice's toil. This is no tomb, nor temple. Impossible as it sounds, it looks to represent the domain of the jackal god himself. A necropolis wherein he instructs his servants in the sacred task of embalming, judges the souls of the dead, and guides the worthy to paradise. A chill runs down your spine as you notice the great stone scales in the statues hand, a heart and feather balanced upon either end.

You notice something unusual in the room's center. Another low slab of rock is placed before the kneeling statue, looking almost like a sacrificial altar. It is far larger than the other, adorned with symbols of wealth and authority, but what catches your eye is what lies atop it. It looks to be a body! Rushing down one of the arching staircases, you cross the room and come to a stop before the altar. What you see all but freezes you in place.

A woman is stretched out upon the stone altar, her whole and fresh, seemingly unmarked by time or decay. Your eyes trail over soft, grey fur and ebony hair, linger on the golden hues of her ears and horns. How can this be? No method of preservation exists that could sustain a corpse so perfectly for so long.

Your reach into your satchel with trembling hands, whether from fear or excitement you do not know. Withdrawing a small candle, you set it down carefully upon the altar. Another match is struck, and you carefully light the wick. The soft glow spills out over the girl's body, giving her features an otherworldly glow. With the added light, you look her over once more, your eyes taking in every detail from the soft lines of her face to the delicate chin, the full breasts, the toned stomach, and finally the shapely legs and dainty feet. Why, if you didn't know any better, you would swear the girl was yet alive!

Shaking your head, you look over the body once more. The long legs, distinctive ears, and delicate snout mark her as some kind of canine, or jackal perhaps. Her face is peaceful and relaxed, looking to be merely asleep. She is clothed in simple linen garments, and the golden ornaments about her neck and arms are simple in design, marking her as a mere slave or concubine. Your curiosity grows as you take note of the shackles locked firmly around her wrists and ankles. The chains are set and anchored firmly into the stone, and though time has weakened them, you feel that long ago, nothing less than shattering the rock itself could have dislodged them. You wonder what crime or duty could have warranted a fate such as this?

You reach over the girl's body to inspect the restraints, and your forearm brushes against her cheek. With a loud gasp, you throw yourself back and away from the altar, clutching at your arm as though it had been scalded. It cannot be, it simply cannot be... You reach forward and rest your hand lightly against her stomach.

The skin is warm beneath your hand.

Pulling away, you stare down at the bound woman, thoughts racing. A part of you insists that this is not real. It is a dream, a hallucination. But you cannot forget the warmth of her body under your hand, nor the way that the green lights from above make her chest appear to rise and fall as though drawing breath.

A voice in the back of your head begins to whisper frantically that something is wrong, that you need to leave, to run and never look back. But curiosity drives you forward. Leaning down over her, you reach out and flatten your hand, lowering it down until it hovers mere inches over her face. The hall is still and silent, nothing disturbing the dead air around you. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel the slightest tickle from her breath against your palm.

In surprise, you relax your hand, and your drooping fingers brush across her lips. The jackal gives a hard shudder, and her eyes snap open, glowing a vibrant gold.

Crying out in alarm, you stumble back from the altar, tripping over your own feet and sprawling out on the stone floor. The jackal's eyes follow your every move, her lips moving but only a ragged moan issuing from her throat. Her body twists and writhes as she pulls against her shackles. The chains rattle and clink, dust billowing up into the air.

You stagger to your feet, and the doe's struggles wane. She stares at you, her eyes wide and desperate, and her mouth forming silent pleas. You feel almost hypnotized by her gaze, unable to look away. She tugs again at her restraints, the chains jangling loudly. Even without words, you know she is begging to be released, pleading for you to rescue her from tomb. Emotions seem to swirl in her eyes, hope, fear, longing. Without realizing, your feet began to move, bringing you closer to the altar and its captive. The voice in the back of your mind is screaming now, a frantic, keening wail.

RUN, it says. STAY AWAY!

Heart pounding in your chest, you reach the altar and slowly pull yourself up, your movements as stiff and mechanical as a sleepwalker. You kneel atop the stone slab, your knees brushing against her chest and waist. She turns onto her side and tries to push herself more firmly against you, her gaze growing more insistent, desire smoldering in those golden pools.

You reach up and grip the chain with both hands. Your stomach is churning and your breaths comes in rapid gasps as every instinct in your body tries desperately to convince you to run for your life. But a fog seems to have wrapped around your mind like a warm blanket, dulling your thoughts and soothing your nerves. Squaring your shoulders, you give a long, hard pull.

The chain breaks free with a deafening crack, and the jackal's mouth splits into a victorious grin, her eyes blazing like stars.

---

An introductory story for Sirocco. I really wanted to give her a supernatural style and background, so decided to go along the lines of the old stories about tomb robbers and ancient curses. The only question is, what happens now that she's loose?

The cover art was done most excellently by  toughset

The coloring and shading was done by my very good, awesome, dorky friend  drpossibly