Chapter 1

Smoke clogged up his nostrils as he ran. Why was he running? Or rather trying to- he wasn't able to, he was paralyzed by fear.

Surrounding him amidst the grey smog are the screams of pain and anguish from his friends- Teddy, Sacagawea, Jed, Octavius, Larry, Dexter. Yet he can do nothing to save them. It is too late to save himself./He can no longer even save himself.

Up ahead, his tablet glitters alluringly, but when he reaches for it, it melts. "AAAAH!" He cries as he collapses to his knees, clutching his chest as he feels something shatter within himself, mirroring the destruction of his heirloom.

Intuitively, he know he's been here before, lived this before, yet the memory eludes him. The part of him that remembers braces himself for the inevitable- the walls and floors of the elongated hallway contorting into Joseph's face. Somehow, he knows this is the end. It always is.

Yet instead of Joseph, the walls and smoke form into another man's laughing, leering features, looming over him, mocking him. "Who will earn eternal life, pharaoh? Whose name shall live forever?" Before Ahkmenrah could protest, the man's face spews smokey tendrils from his cavernous mouth, which begin to smother him, choke him.

Ahkmenrah burst upright in his sarcophagus, coughing and unaware he is screaming, the acrid taste of smoke lingering on his tongue.

"For Heaven's sake, Ahk, that's the fourth time this month! I thought your claustrophobia was improving! Keep this up, and I'll have someone else come here to release you." The president peeked up from the side of the coffin, having ducked there moments before. The source of his alarm was obvious- the heavy, stone lid had been flung across the far corner of the room, chipping off several hieroglyphs and some of its own corners. Had Teddy's reflexes not been quick enough, his head would have joined it.

Not again. Groaning, Ahkmenrah rubbed the weariness out of his eyes as he apologized to his friend. "My apologies, Teddy. It will not happen again."

Still visibly shaken, Teddy helped him out of his sarcophagus. "I thought the nightmares had stopped."

"For them to be nightmares, I would have to be sleeping during the day. To be sleeping, I would have to be alive, which I am not. Therefore, as I have explained before, these are not mere nightmares."

"Visions, then?"

"I suppose, for lack of a better word. Whatever they are, I lack control over them," he sighed, turning to dress himself.

Teddy continued peering at him anxiously. "Regardless, I fear if you don't learn the source of these- nightmares, visions, whatever they are- one of these nights, you will injure yourself or another. Were you even aware that you could have these dreams?" The pharaoh shook his head. "Well, we'll have to get to the bottom of them later. For now, time to put your best foot forward. It's show time!"

It was going to be a very long night. The pharaoh was aware of this as he got dressed; what he did not realize was just how eventful this evening would be.

It had been five months since the Battle of the Smithsonian, when Larry Daley had brought all the old exhibits back to their home; it had been almost half a year since the storage fire that had become commonly known as Joseph's Last Stand. (Personally, Ahkmenrah felt that was far too heroic a title for a near catastrophe caused by such a despicable character, but Larry had placated him by explaining how similar it sounded to Custer's Last Stand, which was one of the greatest failures in history.) During the three months of it had been running, the Night Program had met with astounding success. This of course meant a lot more work for the night guard and his wards. Not that the exhibits minded- the museum had never been more popular or prosperous, and the inhabitants had never felt more useful in their existence. Larry's career was at its peak. No longer burdened by financial woes, he was a far more cheerful and capable night watchman, carrying out his duties with renewed vigor. After all, sometimes it took almost losing something- or someone- to realize how much you needed it.

Currently, the only problems revolved around the pharaoh himself. Though much time had elapsed since his traumatic final confrontation with the preacher, Ahkmenrah feared he'd been unable to 'let it go,' despite Teddy's, Larry's, and Sacagawea's best efforts to help him. Hence the nightmares. He guessed that must certainly be what they were thinking; for his part, he couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that something far darker was triggering them. A month prior to the Smithsonian adventure, he'd been relatively at peace, enjoying writing in his new journal and learning about his new museum duties from Teddy. He'd been alright then. It was only after the Battle of the Smithsonian that his nightmares had begun. And he had no explanation for them, nor any way to prevent them. Perhaps encountering his brother had triggered something within himself, but that still didn't feel quite right. Kahmunrah, he told himself, was dead and truly gone. He no longer posed a threat. He needed to accept that and, as with so much else in his life, move on. If he didn't, well, Teddy was right- he might accidentally harm an exhibit or himself. As his stone lid had proven, he no longer knew his own physical strength.

Well, enough of that for now. It was show time.

For many reasons, he was grateful for his job in the Night Program. Not only did it distract him from his problems, it allowed him to relive his past up to a point- or at least, it helped him not to forget it. By telling the patrons about the legend of his tablet, he became Ahkmenrah, Fourth King of the Fourth King once more. Not to mention he'd always relished storytelling, and his tours were a form of it. The way the children's eyes lit up, the way they giggled when they observed Dexter mimicked the pharaoh's gestures from atop his shoulder, made everything worthwhile. He lost himself in their joy. Even the adults were not above the wonder of history! And no wonder, for in this museum, history truly came alive. He was blessed to be a part of that.

Little did he realize that tranquility was about to end.

That evening, Ahkmenrah had just finished giving his third tour and was on his break, reading a book. That's when he first noticed the stranger hovering near the miniature displays. In truth, almost all the patrons were strangers to him, but what unnerved him about this one was how familiar he seemed to him. Where had he seen him before? "Excuse me sir, may I help you?"

The man turned around, and the rest of Ahkmenrah's words shriveled up in his throat. "You certainly may, young man. I was just admiring these lovely miniature worlds. Perhaps you could educate me on them?"

Ahkmenrah could only stand there in shock, for the person standing before him was the man from his night terror. Not just from his dreams... "No-o, not you."

The man chuckled quietly before clamping him on the shoulder in what appeared to be a familiar, congenial manner. "I see. Even after all this time?" Despite the friendly tone, the pharaoh turned bone white and looked ready to faint, his eyes widening while his lips clamped shut. He wasn't even able to whimper. Across the hall, Larry was talking to an elderly couple when he caught sight of Ahkmenrah's face. He rushed over immediately.

"Excuse me, can I help?" His presence allowed Ahkmenrah to breathe again.

The stranger smile disarmingly and laughed, throwing his head back a bit. "Not at all, my good fellow! I'm afraid I may have startled your Ancient Egyptian friend here, my apologies. I was hoping for a tour, but it doesn't look like that's happening."

"I could show you around," Larry offered.

"That won't be necessary. Forgive my intrusion!" he replied simply, stopping only to clap Ahkmenrah on the shoulder again. The two of them waited until the man was out of earshot before conversing.

"What the heck was that about?" Larry asked, utterly bewildered not by the stranger's presence, but by the pharaoh's reaction to it.

"It was nothing," Ahkmenrah blurted out. "I must go begin a new tour-"

"Whoa there, not so fast. You looked ready to pass out there for a minute! Do you need water? A longer break?" The king still looked rather clammy, but shook his head. "Then what's wrong, who was he?"

"As I said, guardian, it was nothing." He rushed away before the night guard could interrogate him further. Larry could only stare after him in frustration- by now, he was well acquainted with the pharaoh's tendency to repress anything he feared the others might find troubling. Throughout the rest of the evening, Ahkmenrah continually glanced over his shoulder, fearing he'd see the familiar face once more.

"Err, Ahk, I'm not sure how to tell you this, but after tonight, I think you need counseling," Larry said. Noting the blank stare he got in response, he sighed. "Someone, a neutral party, who listens to your problems and helps you work through them."

"I assure you, guardian, there is nothing wrong with me."

"Do you really expect me to believe that after tonight? You almost dropped dead! You still won't tell me who that man was."

"No one. Merely a ghost." There is no way he could still be here. Not after all this time. No way could he have found me again...

Larry wasn't fooled, but he knew trying to drag the information out of the pharaoh would be more difficult than pulling teeth. Still, he hoped Ahk would be willing to talk about it soon- he didn't like to think what kind of person could have spooked him so badly. He made a mental note to never let that guy in here again if he could help it. "Regardless, I really think that after everything you've been through, what with Joseph and your brother and all... A therapist would be a good idea for you. Don't get me wrong, it's not because we think there's anything wrong with you! It's not just tonight, Ahk. These nightmares are worrying me. All of us. We've been hoping they'd go away, but they haven't, and they're getting worse."

"Lawrence is right, lad. These nights, I can hear your screams from the other side of the museum!"

"You were improving so much," Sacagawea added. "We'd hate to see all of your progress undone."

"The point is," Larry continued, "We care about you. Whatever's going on with you, it isn't healthy, and bottling it up inside won't make it go away. We don't think you're crazy or a threat, we just want to help. Let us."

The pharaoh looked down. "How could this therapist help me when she or he will not even know who I am?"

Larry looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Err, that's the thing- she won't. The counselor would probably have to know who you are in order to be the most effective. This person would have to know about the museum's magic." Noticing the horrified looks on the other's faces, he quickly backpedaled. "Don't worry, I'll work it out somehow! There are ways, you know- contracts, client-patient privilege, things like that. Our secret will still be relatively safe, err, almost as secret as it was before." Turning back to the pharaoh, he added, "I've already got someone in mind. You'll like her, Ahk, she's around your age. I bet you two will get along great!" I hope.

Knowing he's outnumbered, Ahkmenrah sighed in defeat. "I will consider your proposal, guardian. Thank you all for your concern." With that, he retreated to his tomb.

I'm baaack! Couldn't stay away. I'll try updating every weekend, maybe excluding this one since I posted this early. Enjoy! :)