#tw:mummy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

macabre-shackles · 4 years

Text

Awakening: Rewrite

The dark was thick like ink, full of dusty particles from years of sand. It was amazing how such darkness messed with the mind. How things faded away, such simple things like sensations, thought, all dissolved like mud swept away by the tide.

Had he seen light before? He was sure he had, but it flickered out like a match before he could grasp it. How long had he been in this void now? Surely at one point he felt cold stone, limbs restrained, but had he really? He was floating now, was he truly conscious or simply dreaming. Perhaps this was what death really was, but his mind couldn't comprehend that for long. Like rusty cogs in a clock trying to tick tick tick away the time.

It was meaningless. This existence.

It was black, weightless, nothingness, silence. Broken by cracking. No...It was more hallucinations of a brain trying to make sense of the vacuum.

The soft sound of rain. He stirred, mind sluggishly trying to pull its way out of the tar.

No. Sand shifting, falling after being disturbed after so very long.

They made their way through the old stone corridors, climbing ruin and chasms, lighting torches to chase away the shadows. Sharp eyes searched nooks, crevices, looking for clues or shimmering answers to their quest. Surely this place wouldn't have been stripped, a nameless tomb in the middle of no where.

But perhaps nameless for a reason, perhaps there were no riches to pillage in this place of a nobody. Not meaningful enough in like for a name, let alone gold in the afterlife.

Still, they busted down another wall, pulling chunks of rock out of the way and it was there that their torches caught the glint of metal. Hurriedly, they scrambled forward, spreading the light of their flames to brighten the whole room. The men looked triumphant, quickly opening their sacks and bags to fill up with anything that could possibly be of value.

It was a lavish room, for certain, but as with most of these, the lead knew where the best jewels would be. Calling over two of his men, they grunted and hefted the stone lid off to reveal the gold sarcophagus that laid within. Grinning toothily, they hastily pulled the next lid off, greedy hands groping into the linens to grasp jewelry and rip them from their resting place.

He stood, holding one up to the light of his torch to catch a satisfying shine.

Their scent slowly filled the room, their voices and happiness at their find echoing in the otherwise silent halls. Those rusty gears turned, ticking away faster, but this time unlike a clock.

This time like a bomb.

And soon as that scent hit him, once those bonds around him loosened from the hungry thieves, his own starvation was suddenly founded. There was creaking, cracking that went unnoticed by the gleeful men who were making a racket themselves.

Until a withered hand grasped a shoulder and he disappeared into the stone box, the startled yelp cut short and it was then that everyone froze. Staring at the box, they heard scuffling, a jerky movement and rasping gasps. One approached to look in for their friend...

The silence was broken once more, this time by screams as the husk of a corpse screeched, clawed hand grabbing hair and pulling the terrified man close. The others were frozen in horror as his body jerked and wilted before their very eyes. The dull thud it made when the body hit the ground is what snapped them out of their trance, making a mad dash for the exit, the banshee shriek following them.

Rotted joints groaned as the creature shuffled after them, dull red glowing in empty sockets. How unfortunate that the winding paths to get to this hidden tomb, now became a deadly maze with a monster close at their heals.

One by one, the darkness claimed them, clacking jaws and clicking teeth finding them in their hiding spots. Empty nose smelled them through the dust and murk. Until just a single man was left, how fitting for the leader to be the one cowering while his group was slaughtered and devoured.

Balled up, hands over his mouth to quiet his palpitating heart, the sudden stillness turning him cold. Was it over? Had the beast moved on or gone back to the hell it crawled out of? Dare he hope?

Bony fingers slowly curled around the opening of the crate he hid in and his eyes widened, a whimper of terror wormed its way out of his throat.

Before the devil dropped on him.

The thieves came to steal riches, thinking to find easy gain in a dead mans last resting place and instead found their own tomb as their deaths fueled an ancient relic. Leathery flesh once again became plump, straw hair grew lush and soft, and Atem stumbled his way back to the center chamber. His chest labored as he scrambled for a dagger to slice open his chest, his desperate hands smashing one of his canopic jars as he yanked off the lids.

Piece by piece, he replaced his organs. Lungs gasping for air once they were back in his chest he coughed and hacked, spatting out clots and an oily substance. The glowing light of his crimson eyes flickered, veins taking up the light as he let out a pained hiss. Legs finally gave out and the once pharaoh collapsed in his shredded linens on the floor.

Darkness took him over once more, a deep, healing unconsciousness. But this time, there were no more questions of what if's, this time when he would wake, he knew one thing for certain: He was alive.

More or less.

#this ended up much longer than I meant it to be #oh well #Mac's awakening #probably a title holder I might change it #but this is Atem's start #tw:death #tw:blood #tw:cannibalism #tw:horror #tw:mummy?

5 notes · View notes

ltwilliammowett · 6 years

Text

The Franklin Expedition- The Mummies

- BIG WARNING : Mummies and human remains in that post-

As mentioned here, three deaths occurred during the first hibernation on Devon Island in 1846. In the course of the first archaeological investigation, the Canadian anthropologist Owen Beattie travelled to Beechy Island in 1984 to find out more about the death circumstances of the entire crew. After long back and forth and with permission of Canadian and English side as well as the descendants he was allowed to examine then the human remains. But what went so far that he had to pack every single stone in order to be able to restore the original burial later.

(Beechy Island and the Three graves, there is fourth one from the recuse expedtion)

What he found in the summer of 1984, however, no one had justice to. The first grave he opened was that of John Torrington, his coffin was made of mahogany and covered with blue felt, on the lid was a heart made of a can, then the following inscription 01.01. 1846 John Torrington Age 20 petty officer HMS Terror

The body still looked like Dressed in a grey button up shirt, his limbs were tied with linen strips, remnants of how his body was placed in the coffin. Toes and hands were perfectly preserved. The skin had a leathery appearance but overall were completely void of decay even after 130 years in the ground. As the team continued to thaw the ice in the coffin it became apparent that Torrington's face was covered in fabric.

When this fabric was removed, the team got the most unexpected fright of their lives. John Torrington was starring back at them, literally. It would be a moment they would never forget. After they had once completely defrosted him, he was undressed and examined in detail. As it turned out, John was very ill and extremely thin at the time of his death, he weighed only about 38.5 kilograms at a height of 162.6 cm.

(John Torrington)

After the removal of bone parts, hair and material, the body was buried again. Tissue samples showed that Torrington's body had probably been stored on board the ship while his grave was being dug; significant cell autolysis had occurred in almost all areas and the cell definition was very poor. His brain had almost completely disappeared, leaving only a "yellow grainy liquid". Lungs showed scars from previous tuberculosis and signs of recent pneumonia. After the toxicological analysis showed an increased lead content in Torrington's hair and fingernails, the team concluded that Torrington had died of pneumonia. Which was probably aggravated by lead poisoning.

In 1986 the bodies of John Hartnell and William Brain were excavated. Also their bodies warned in a perfect condition and also their coffins were provided with inscriptions.

04.01.1846 John Hartnell Age: 25 able seaman HMS Erebus

03.04.1846 William Braine Age: 32 Marine HMS Erebus

Due to the fact that Hartnell died only 3 days after Torrington, the ship's doctors performed an autopsy on him in 1846, but the diagnosis at that time was only death by scurvy, but he was also diagnosed with a physical weakness and an extreme weight of about 40 kilograms, indicate tuberculosis and a final pneumonia.

(John Hartnell)

He was buried with a cap, revealing to the excavators a completely preserved black splendour of hair that had hardly been attacked by the ice. These hairs were excellent for analysis, but here, too, further tissue samples as well as fingers and toenails were taken along.

And also with it very high lead values could be determined, which indicated also here a lead poisoning. Braine's autopsy also revealed tuberculosis with final pneumonia and increased lead levels.

Beattie suggested that these men were suffering from chronic lead poisoning, which only accelerated their death by pneumonia.

(William Briane)

(A possible face reconstruction by Kristina Gehrmann)

After further investigations on bone remains he came to the conclusion that the men of the Fanklin expedition had fallen victim to lead poisoning. Keenleyside also came to this conclusion in 1996, who examined around 400 bones and could detect a very high lead content in the vertebrae. As culprits, they both kept the lead-sealed cans of canned food. But was it really like that? Recent results suggest otherwise.

#the franklin expedition #part ii the mummies #part iii will follow #sorry its a little bit long #but opinions are welcome #tw:mummy #tw:human remains

93 notes · View notes