I followed close behind the graceful woman, keeping my eyes locked to her back so I wouldn’t lose her in the crowds. I’m sure I couldn’t have lost her anyway. She was like a topaz amongst a pile of coal. Lengths of blue silken cloth hung loosely from her shoulders, her long black hair, woven together with threads of gold. But even with all her beauty and grace, my eye kept glancing back to one thing. On a finger on her right hand, rested the most exquisite ring I had ever seen in my life. It was a scarab beetle, so lifelike and vibrant. It’s colour was so blue, so deep. It almost seemed unreal the way my eyes couldn’t focus on it. But I only ever saw a glimpse at a time as her hand swung back and forth through the waves of the blue sea that enveloped her body.

The stench that clung to the Cairo streets was unbearable. The rotting vegetables and dairy products littered the streets had been trampled down into a watery mush. I saw a person passed out in a corner amongst some decaying food. He had a bottle cradled in his arms and vomit was dribbling down his chin. My stomach churned. Suddenly the woman turned without even a backwards glance, and disappeared into an old carved door to the right. I studied the building from the outside. It wasn’t really any different from the buildings on either side. Maybe a little larger.

“This building is supposed to be an art gallery?” I muttered to myself, unimpressed. A large and intricate scarab beetle had been carved into the door, it’s long jagged pincers seemed to scrape a warning as I passed through.

A refreshing cool gust of wind met me as I entered the building, cold against my sweat-drenched clothes. The air was sweet with the smell of fresh flowers and burning incense. The woman was waiting at the end of the room. When I looked up, I noticed she was staring at me intently, as if she was studying me. I felt uncomfortable under her scrutinizing eyes. When my eyes met hers, they were only met by a black expression of indifference.

She motioned me to sit, as she continued through a door just behind her. I sat down and looked around, absorbing my surroundings. The room was so bright, so white and clean. The tiles on the floor looked like they had never been walked on before. I couldn’t get over how modern the place seemed. Such a contrast among the rotting streets outside. I sunk back into the chair and lit a cigarette. I closed my eyes and listened to the dulled sounds of the crowds outside, seeming so distant. A sharp tapping and scraping woke me from my quite reverie.

I looked to my left and saw a small glass box, sitting on a long, low coffee table. I glanced at my gold Rolex, it had been three minutes. ‘What’s keeping them?’ I thought to myself, ‘no bloody respect for foreigners.’ The noise came again…a scratching and scraping, coming from the box. Soon my curiosity got the best of me and I stood up to have a look inside. As I got closer, the scratching got louder and louder until suddenly there was a *CRACK* and a sickening crunching. From where I was, I could see something moving inside the box…maybe black, maybe red.

My curiosity abated a little, it was only an open roofed insect box. But what kind of an insect could make such a disgusting, gnawing, crunching sound? I took a step closer, trying to make out the shape of the creature inside. It had long sharp pincers, no, not pincers, more like huge jagged teeth, protruding from its head. Its back was armored with a hard black protective sheet. ‘Could it be a scarab beetle?’, I thought to myself. No this was huge, about the size of my hand, scarab beetles were small timid creatures. But the more I thought about it, the more I was convinced it had to be a scarab. It looked almost ecstatic, sliding through the dark liquid on the bottom of the box.

I would never have admitted to being afraid of the oversized bug, but something made me glad it was trapped in that box. I reached my hand over and flicked my ashes into the box. I gasped as the gray ash melted into a bright red as it soaked up the liquid. The bottom of the box was smeared in blood, the colour had been undeterminable against the dark background of the coffee table. Weren’t they omnivorous? I leaned my head closer to see what it was eating…something fleshy…what was that on the end?

…like a fingernail…

“Mr. Shale,” a loud voice from behind me interrupted my observations. I felt guilty for wandering, for staring.

“I hear you have come to see our private exhibit. You are lucky, not many people have the privilege of seeing what you are about to see.” he said, eyeing my cigarette disdainfully.

There was an unnerving smile on his face as he led me through the door which the woman had gone through.

“Yes,” I replied, “I am thankful for the opportunity you have given me, especially on such short notice.” I had been lazing around for days during my ‘work time’ and now my deadline was 2 days away. I was sure I could scrape together something on an Egyptian god which no one knew about…and if not, I could always bullshit my way out of this one.

We passed through many hallways and finally came to a stairway leading down into the ground. The walls were made from rammed earth and crumbled under my touch.

“This scarab god is thousands of years old.” he said as he led me down the stairs, “The ancient Egyptians used to sacrifice humans to him…the only offering that would please such a mighty being.” We arrived at another carved door, illuminated by the man’s lantern. I could make out the ghostly shape of a scarab, looming over me.

“Yes, but human sacrifice is no longer practiced in this age.” I commented. The man only smiled and opened the door.

“The scarab god will take only one person at a time. Please, you go ahead.” he said as he ushered me into the room. As soon as I was in, the door was slammed behind me, darkness smearing itself across my eyes. An overpowering smell of rotting food, worse than that of the streets, immediately overcame me. I could dimly see a pair of flickering candles; a large statue looming over them. ‘That must be the ancient statue of the scarab god’, I thought to myself, my heart beating a little faster. Hidden behind the smell of rotting food was a damp, musky smell, filling all the dark corners. I could hear frequent splashes of accumulated moisture, but couldn’t see where they were coming from. I stepped carefully towards the statue. The floor was scattered with clinking debris, ‘Probably past offerings of craft and art’ I thought.

Suddenly a sound in the darkness behind me caught my attention. A scratching, gnawing sound…the sound of lots of little footsteps advancing across the earthen floor. I dropped my head closer to the ground so I could hear better. The sound of pattering feet was unmistakable, I was intrigued. I placed my ear on the ground and closed my eyes, what could be making this sound?

I stood up quickly when I felt a weight dragging on my trousers. I reached my hand down my leg to feel what it was that was clamped to me. It was hard and smooth, connected to my trousers with large jagged clamps.

I screamed when it finally dawned on me. I was the god’s next sacrifice. Given to him through the beetles themselves. Gigantic, heavily armored and quipped with the most deadly weapons, they would attack me like a swarm of piranhas.

I looked up towards the door and stood horrified. I could now see the back of the beetles as they approached. The dim light reflected off their backs, making the floor look like it was writhing. Turning the other way, I sprinted towards the statue. It was twice my height. If I could only get to the top, I would be safe. I wrapped my arms about the base of the statue and pulled myself up a tiny bit. Suddenly my foot slipped and I fell onto my back. I screamed as I felt a pair of pincers dig deep into my hand.

I placed my hand on the floor and punt my full weight on the bug. It cracked and dark juices oozed out, soaking into the dry floor. I jumped up to the statue again, and with a burst of terrifying adrenaline, scrambled to the top. The beetles had reached the bottom now and had started to climb up. The statue’s surface was just too slippery and could not be scaled by them. I laughed to myself. “It looked like your god doesn’t want you to take me.” I said to them.

A loud whizzing sound went past my head, as something collided with my chest, heavy and hard. I looked down at the beetles in horror as they opened their backs, and spread their wings like angels.