From (M)emoirs of Death, chapter: Hieroglyphs
That night in November 1922, Lord Carter, his assistant Arthur, Lord Carnarvon and Lady Evelyn entered the inner burial chamber. Arthur stayed at the entryway to guard the approach in case someone from the Department of Antiquities showed up. He had clear instructions on how to signal to them in case someone did come poking around.
They had come back because something did not sit right with Lord Carter. Still it was Lady Evelyn who first noticed the small opening in the wall. She crawled through without asking. On the other side, a narrow hallway faded into the darkness. She invited her father and Lord Carter to join her. They walked down the hidden tunnel until they found the door to a sealed second chamber. There were three Egyptian symbols written above the entrance.
"The Department of Antiquities won’t know we made this far. With so many grave robbers bursting into these tombs throughout the centuries, they’ll never suspect we were the first to open this chamber.” said Carter. The reasoning was sound, his voice was excited. “Let's break this door!” All three of them pushed the door with all the strength there was in them and the stones tumbled.
The room was full of jewelry and shabtis, more of the typical detritus that had impressed them all in the first set of chambers but were growing old now. What drew Lady Evelyn’s attention was a subtle movement in the shadows.
This chamber had been sealed for centuries. But she swore there was something moving in the corner: something alive! She stifled a scream with her hand. Lord Carter, second to spot the hunched figure, froze in terror. They were so taken aback that when figure started rushing towards them, they stood motionless. Lady Evelyn dropped her palm and let out a full throated cry. Lord Carnarvon hugged her close as a shield from whatever was charging to kill them. But the figure plowed past the three rich explorers and continued running beyond to freedom.
I stood just beyond Arthur outside the tomb. I had been here before. Maybe it had been a cruel punishment to seal him for so many centuries in this tomb alone and in inky darkness. But there he was alive, sundered from human mortality, just as I myself had left him.
He caught sight of me with those pale eyes of his, even paler after so much darkness. I almost regretted having wrought such a cruel punishment. Almost. The pain he had inflicted on me still had not faded over the intervening millennium. The punishment was just, after all.