IT'S CARTER SPEAKING FOR Y/N AGAIN. SORRY. We had to turn off the tape for a while because Basil summoned the g— we were being followed by—well, we'll get to those later.
Sadie was telling you how we left London, right?
So anyway, Sadie, Carter, and I followed Amos down to the reed boat docked at the quayside. Carter and Sadie looked distraught. Carter was cradling his workbag under his arm like it would be sucked through the earth. I didn't trust Amos, but I saw how he manipulated those cops minds. If I learned that, maybe I could help fix mom's mind?
Amos stepped aboard the reed boat. Sadie jumped right on with me following, but Carter hesitated.
As the boat began to lurch forward, I instinctively gripped the side of it, my fingers curling into the soft, fibrous weave of the reed. The feeling of motion was disorienting, the air around us thickening with a strange, unnatural warmth. I wanted to say something—anything—but all that escaped my lips was that single, haunting word. Halloween.
I wasn't sure why it was the only thing I could manage, but it was like the word had become my curse, my constant, echoing reminder of something I couldn't quite place. I tried to focus on the world around me—the boat, the people, the sky—but it felt like a haze was enveloping everything, clouding my thoughts.
Amos, standing at the bow of the boat, seemed perfectly at ease as the boat cut through the dark water. His calm presence only made me feel more disconnected, more distant from the situation. I glanced back at Carter, who still stood hesitating at the edge of the dock, his eyes darting between the boat and the distant shore, looking like he wasn't sure what to make of any of this.
"Come on, Carter," Sadie called, looking back at him. "We've got to go. You're the last one."
"How does this thing move?" Carter asked Amos. "You've got no sail."
"Trust me." Amos offered him a hand.
Carter's grip on his bag tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might refuse, but then he sighed heavily and stepped forward, the reluctance evident in every line of his body. Slowly, he stepped onto the boat, giving Amos a skeptical look before moving to stand near me.
As he stepped beside me, I noticed the tension in his posture, the way he kept glancing around, scanning the horizon like he was waiting for something to go wrong. Sadie, on the other hand, was trying to keep muffin stale.
"Take a seat inside," Amos offered. "The trip might be a little rough."
"I'll stand, thanks." Sadie nodded at the little guy in back. "Who's your driver?"
Amos acted as if he hadn't heard the question. "Hang on, everyone!" He nodded to the steersman, and the boat lurched forward.
The boat shot forward with a jolt that threw me back against the reed walls. My hand gripped the side tighter, my nails digging into the fibers, but I still couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling of weightlessness—like we were hurtling through some kind of unseen void. The air shifted around me, becoming thicker and warmer, a sensation that clawed at my senses.
I wanted to scream, to yell, to say anything that might break this strange, oppressive silence that enveloped us. But all that came from my mouth was that one word again. "Halloween." It tumbled out like a curse, as if it had lodged itself in the pit of my stomach and was determined to claw its way out.
The world around me shifted, and the boat—still cutting through the water—seemed to blur, as though the city lights in the distance were slipping away into a fog. And then...the noises began. They were faint at first—scraping, slithering sounds, like something moving in the water beneath us. I could hear faint whispers too, words in languages I couldn't understand, like the very air was alive with secrets I wasn't meant to know.
My stomach twisted in knots, the nausea from the strange feeling of motion only intensified by the eerie noises around us. My head felt heavy, my thoughts sluggish as if they were wrapped in cotton. All I could do was grasp onto the boat, trying to ground myself in a reality I wasn't sure existed anymore. Everything felt so unreal. Halloween. The word was like a heartbeat in my chest, constantly pulsing, reminding me of something I had lost.
I glanced over at Carter, whose face mirrored my own confusion and fear. He looked just as disoriented as I felt, his hands gripping the side of the boat with white knuckles. Sadie—Sadie looked the most composed of the three of us, though her eyes kept darting nervously between the fog and the water. Muffin, was nestled in her arms, purring softly, completely unfazed by the chaos around us. How could she be so calm?
Then, as suddenly as it had started, everything went silent. The boat slowed, and the oppressive fog that had swallowed the city lights faded. The shrill whispers, the slithering noises—they were gone. The air seemed to settle, and with it, the nausea that had been twisting in my gut began to ease.
I blinked, trying to focus on the world around me. The city lights flickered back into view, sharp and bright against the night sky. And then—impossible—there it was. The skyline of New York. The Chrysler Building, the Empire State Building, rising tall and proud against the horizon.
"Impossible," Carter murmured, and I couldn't help but echo him. "That's New York."
Sadie blinked, her eyes wide in disbelief. "It can't be," she said, glancing at Muffin, who still seemed perfectly at ease. "We only traveled a few minutes."
I couldn't wrap my head around it. How could we be here so fast? This didn't make sense. I didn't understand any of it. My mind was struggling to make sense of what was happening, but I could feel it slipping away from me.
The boat glided silently under the Williamsburg Bridge, its tall arches casting shadows over us as we sailed along the East River. We stopped at a small dock on the Brooklyn side of the river, the boat coming to a slow, smooth halt.
In front of us stood a strange, industrial yard filled with piles of scrap metal and old construction equipment. But it wasn't the yard that caught my attention—it was the large factory warehouse rising in the center, heavily painted with graffiti. The windows were boarded up, making the building look abandoned and grim.
Sadie, still cradling Muffin, gave a dry laugh. "That is not a mansion."
Amos, however, seemed unbothered, his face expressionless as he pointed to the top of the warehouse. "Look again."
I followed his gaze, and my eyes widened. There, perched atop the building, was a five-story mansion. It seemed impossible, like something out of a dream—or a nightmare. How could a mansion sit on top of a warehouse? The absurdity of it hit me, and my mind swirled with questions, none of which I could vocalize.
Sadie's voice broke through the fog of confusion. "How... how did you—?"
Amos simply smiled, a knowing smile that didn't answer her question. "Long story."
As I tried to wrap my mind around this new revelation, Sadie spoke again. "And is this the east shore? You mentioned something about that in London. My grandparents live on the east shore..."
Amos' smile widened, his eyes glinting with something that might have been pride. "Yes. Very good, Sadie. In ancient times, the east bank of the Nile was always the side of the living—the side where the sun rises. The dead were buried west of the river. It was considered bad luck, even dangerous, to live there. The tradition is still strong among... our people."
The west side of the river ... isn't that where he found me? Since Sadie's grandparents lived on the east side.
Is that why that hospital was so run down? While we were leaving I noticed how so many people were being brought to the morgue. Could those things be related?
"Our people?" Carter asked, only for Sadie to overtake him in with another question.
"So you can't live in Manhattan?" she asked.
Amos's brow furrowed as he looked across at the Empire State Building. "Manhattan has other problems. Other gods. It's best we stay separate."
"Other what?" Sadie demanded.
Other Gods, like Deimos and Phobos. The Greek Gods. I explained to Sadie, well— tried to. In reality it came out as:
"Halloween, Halloween Halloween. Halloween een."
For some reason Sadie's eyes widened in shock.
"The Greek Gods are real?" She said in surprise.
Amos turned his head to look at her in surprise.
"How did you—" he murmured in shock before turning away. "Nothing." Amos said as he walked past us to the steersman. He plucked off the man's hat and coat—and there was no one underneath. The steersman simply wasn't there, and neither was the coat Amos had given me.
Amos put on his fedora, folded his coat over his arm, then waved toward a metal staircase that wound all the way up the side of the warehouse to the mansion on the roof.
"All ashore," he said. "And welcome to the Twenty-first Nome."
"Gnome?" Carter asked, as we followed Amos up the stairs. "Like those little runty guys?"
"Heavens, no," Amos said. "I hate gnomes. They smell horrible."
"But you said—"
"Nome, n-o-m-e. As in a district, a region. The term is from ancient times, when Egypt was divided into forty-two provinces. Today, the system is a little different. We've gone global. The world is divided into three hundred and sixty nomes. Egypt, of course, is the First. Greater New York is the Twenty-first."
Sadie glanced at me and twirled her finger around her temple. I shook my head no. This guy had some truth to him. How did I know? Well since we exited that fog hyper speed thing, small little images have been floating off him, Sadie, and Carter.
I don't know what they were as they'd fade almost instantly, but what I could catch told me little blurbs about them.
They were like spark notes about what they ate in the last few hours, or what their clothes were made of.
"No, Sadie," Amos said, pulling me from my thoughts. "I'm not crazy. There's much you need to learn."
We reached the top of the stairs.
Towering at least fifty feet high, the thing was built from massive limestone blocks like someone had stolen them straight from a forgotten pyramid and then slammed on steel-framed windows like an afterthought. Every window was ringed with carved symbols—hieroglyphs, maybe. They glowed faintly in the dark, as if they were watching me.
The walls shimmered with light that shouldn't have existed, like the place couldn't decide whether it was a historical landmark or a futuristic art installation.
If I looked away—just glanced off to the side—the whole thing vanished. Gone. Like it slipped behind some cosmic curtain. I kept testing it, flicking my eyes back and forth like a lunatic. It took actual effort to focus on the building again, like my mind was fighting me.
Amos stopped before the entrance, which was the size of a garage door—a dark heavy square of timber with no visible handle or lock. "Carter, after you."
"Um, how do I—"
"How do you think?"
Okay. Rude thing to say to your nephew, Amos. What's he supposed to do? Use the force?
Carter stretched out his arm. Slowly, without touching the door, he raised his hand and the door followed my movement—sliding upward until it disappeared into the ceiling.
Sadie looked stunned. "How..."
Me and my non verbal mouth...
"I don't know," Carter admitted, looking a little embarrassed. "Motion sensor, maybe?"
"Interesting." Amos sounded a little troubled. "Not the way I would've done it, but very good. Remarkably good."
"Thanks, I think."
Sadie tried to step in first.
That was a horrible idea.
Her cat let out this otherworldly screech, like someone had jammed her tail in a blender. For a second, I thought she was going to scratch Sadie's eyes out.
Sadie barely managed to hang on to her. "What was that about, cat?"
Amos didn't even blink. "Oh, of course," he said like this was all perfectly normal. He walked up to the possessed feline like it wasn't trying to summon a demon and gently placed his hand on her head.
"You may enter," he said solemnly, like he was granting it a royal pardon or something.
The cat immediately calmed down.
"The cat needs permission?" Carter asked.
"Special circumstances," Amos said, which wasn't much of an explanation, but he walked inside without saying another word. We followed, and this time Muffin stayed quiet.
"Oh my god..." Sadie's jaw dropped. She craned her neck to look at the ceiling, and I thought the gum might fall out of her mouth.
"Yes," Amos said. "This is the Great Room."
I stepped inside after them, cautious. My shoes made no sound on the polished stone floor, but the air felt thick. Heavy, like it remembered things.
The place looked like it had swallowed a museum and spat out the best parts. That ceiling could've swallowed a cathedral whole. Carved beams stretched so high they vanished into shadows. The stone pillars—those breathed. Every groove in the hieroglyphs pulsed like they were alive. I didn't like how they seemed to twitch when I blinked.
Weapons hung on the walls—curved blades, staffs, flails, and a harp the size of a small boat. I didn't know if I was supposed to fight here or perform in some undead symphony.
Balconies ringed the room, levels upon levels, each with rows of closed doors. They looked like empty hotel rooms for people who'd forgotten what dreams were. Every door had some kind of symbol. Some glowed. Some... whispered?
There was a fire burning in a fireplace that could have held a bus. Real flames. Crackling like they knew secrets. A plasma screen TV hung above it, playing some silent black-and-white movie on a loop. A man in a suit walked down a hallway again and again. I didn't know if the film ever ended.
I looked down.
Under my feet was a massive snake skin rug. Thirty— no, forty feet long. Green and gold scales glistening in the light.
Where do you even find a snake this big?
And then there was the statue.
I had no idea what it was supposed to be. Every time I looked at it Ba-Pef would start shouting in my head in Egyptian —at least that's what I think it was— cursing at it. I wasn't entirely sure what he was saying but from what I could understand, he did not like it.
Saying things like: "Stupidbird", "makingwriting", "had to go and make fears more complicated."
All I was sure was that I didn't want to meet whoever the statue was.
What I could perceive though, was the an open scroll —as if he'd just written in it. On the scroll was an Ankh —essentially a cross with a hoop on top of it— with a rectangle around its hoop.
"That's it!" Sadie exclaimed. "Per Ankh."
Carter and I stared at her in disbelief.
"All right, how you can read that?" Carter asked.
"I don't know," she said. "But it's obvious, isn't it? The top one is shaped like the floor plan of a house."
"How did you get that? It's just a box." Carter said, more surprised that she got it right than anything.
"It's a house," she insisted. "And the bottom picture is the ankh, the symbol for life. Per Ankh—the House of Life."
"Very good, Sadie." Amos looked impressed. "And this is a statue of the only god still allowed in the House of Life—at least, normally. Do you recognize him, Carter?"
Ohhhhh; scrolls, stupid bird, writing. It was—
"Thoth," Carter said, interrupting my train of thought. "The god of knowledge. He invented writing."
"Indeed," Amos said.
"Why the animal heads?" Sadie asked. "All those Egyptian gods have animal heads. They look so silly."
Ba-Pef grumbled at that. I don't think the god of fear was a fan of being called "Silly".
"They don't normally appear that way," Amos said. "Not in real life."
"Real life?" Carter asked. "Come on. You sound like you've met them in—"
Carter paused, turning to look at me. The sight of my exposed brain matter reflecting in his eyes made him rethink what he was saying.
Amos's expression didn't seem to reassure him either. He looked as if he were remembering something unpleasant. "The gods could appear in many forms—usually fully human or fully animal, but occasionally as a hybrid form like this. They are primal forces, you understand, a sort of bridge between humanity and nature. They are depicted with animal heads to show that they exist in two different worlds at once. Do you understand?"
"Not even a little," Sadie said.
"Mmm." Amos didn't sound surprised. "Yes, we have much training to do. At any rate, the god before you, Thoth, founded the House of Life, for which this mansion is the regional headquarters. Or at least...it used to be. I'm the only member left in the Twenty-first Nome. Or I was, until you two came along... though I'm hoping it will be you three if possible."
He said the last part looking at me.
"Hang on." Carter said, looking extremely overwhelmed. "What is the House of Life? Why is Thoth the only god allowed here, and why are you—"
"Carter, I understand how you feel." Amos smiled sympathetically. "But these things are better discussed in daylight. You need to get some sleep, and I don't want you to have nightmares."
That caused me to pause. What happens if I try to sleep? Before I was just falling unconscious and listening to Ba-Pef talk. But this guy is obviously magic, and if I know anything from fantasy books, sleep and magic are absolutely connected.
If I have nightmares, will they become real? I'm the avatar of the God of fear after all.
"Mrow." Muffin stretched in Sadie's arms and let loose a huge yawn.
Amos clapped his hands. "Khufu!"
At first, I thought he'd sneezed again.
But no—there he was. Clambering down the staircase like a gold-furred gremlin, his purple Lakers jersey fluttering like a superhero's cape. He landed with a gymnast's flourish, slapped his chest like he'd just dunked on someone, and let out a roar-belch that hit me full in the face.
It smelled like someone had chewed up a bag of nacho-flavored Doritos and then weaponized it.
Though it seems that didn't bother Carter as he said, "The Lakers are my home team!"
The baboon slapped his head with both hands and belched again.
"Oh, Khufu likes you," Amos said. "You'll get along famously."
"Right." Sadie looked dazed. "You've got a monkey butler. Why not?"
Muffin purred in Sadie's arms as if the baboon didn't bother her at all.
"Agh!" he barked, thumping his chest like he was about to challenge Carter to a slam dunk contest at the end of the world.
Amos chuckled, as if this was perfectly normal baboon behavior. "He wants to go one-on-one with you, Carter. To, ah, see your game."
Carter shifted like someone had replaced his socks with wet spaghetti. "Um, yeah. Sure. Maybe tomorrow. But how can you understand—"
I laughed. I couldn't help it. It burst out of me before I could think. Carter—this perfectly ironed, khaki-souled museum guide of a person—was being challenged to basketball combat by a baboon in a Lakers jersey. It was like watching Bill Nye get called out on NBA Street.
(DGW: 2001 basketball video game)
Carter shot me a glare, but I barely registered it.
Because then Khufu turned.
And saw me.
The moment our eyes met, his whole body locked up. Arms froze mid-pose. Ears twitched. The swagger drained from him like someone yanked the batteries out of his chest. And then—
He screamed.
Not a normal monkey screech. Not even a 'somebody took my banana' tantrum. This was primal. Bone-deep. The kind of sound that made your body flinch before your brain even caught up.
He scrambled backward on all fours like I was made of acid. He tripped over the massive snakeskin rug, let out another yowl, and booked it toward the stairs like something was chasing him.
The room was silent for a moment as everyone stared at where the Baboon had ran in terror.
"That is... concerning," Amos said under his breath, glancing at me then back at where Khufu had ran.
Ba-Pef was smiling inside my head.
If you could call it a smile. It felt like frost spreading across glass.
"Primate knows. It remembers old fear. Before words. Before light. Clever little beast."
Amos sighed, "best you three get to bed, if you're going to survive and save your father, you have to get some rest."
"Sorry," Sadie said, "did you say 'survive and save our father'? Could you expand on that? Or at least whatever that was?"
"Tomorrow," Amos said. "We'll begin your orientation in the morning. I'll , show you to your rooms."
We were about to follow when Amos said, "Carter, the workbag, please. It's best if I lock it in the library."
Carter hesitated, looking down as he gripped his workbag, not sure if he could trust Amos with it.
"You'll get it back," Amos promised. "When the time is right."
He asked nicely enough, but something in his eyes told me that Carter really didn't have a choice.
Carter handed over the bag. Amos took it gingerly, as if it were full of explosives.
"See you in the morning." He turned and lead us through upstairs, glancing at a shaking Khufu who snarled at me in fear.
We got to Sadie and Carter's rooms first, two adjoining rooms on the third floor, and I've got to admit, they were way cooler than any place I'd ever stayed before.
My room was farther back in a dark corner of the third floor.
As soon as I stepped inside, I could feel it: something different. The air was heavier, like the walls themselves were holding their breath. The space wasn't cold, exactly, but it wasn't warm either. Just... waiting.
It was bigger than I expected. King-sized bed in the middle, complete with an Egyptian headrest made of carved ebony, I wasn't sure what it was for but when I looked at it, Ba-Pef laughed.
His laughter didn't last long as above the bed were a bunch of folded papyrus on strings, they radiated a red light that gave me a small headache.
When I sat on the bed a wave of exhaustion hit me, causing everything around me to go black.
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DGW: Sorry for the short chapter, I am currently writing my own original story. Thank you all for reading, I truly hope you enjoyed the story and have any suggestions for what should go on.
Tools Used: FANDOM WIKI app, Grammarly, Theoi.com, Wattpad, Wikipedia, google pdf, some manga sites.
Word Count: 6343