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The Ancient One
He rose from the mud, bones creaking from millennia of disuse. It had been so long since he ruled the earth, so long since he had been worshiped. Water streamed from his skin, caked with black mud. He stepped from the river, his river, and onto the sandy river bank. He sniffed the air and recoiled. What was that smell? It was filthy, polluted, acidic, and vile. His nostrils burned with the stench and he hissed, his crocodilian head tossed left and right. The river god brushed mud from his eyes with his massive hands and blinked. Suddenly, he could see. He gasped, a rasping noise in the back of his scaly throat. His golden eyes darted left and right. Bright metal horseless chariots with black wheels of fire shot across roads of smooth stone. A cacophony of terrified screaming reached the god’s ears, not exactly the welcome he had expected. He stepped forward, inadvertently crushing one of the chariots under his bare feet. More screams. The god lunged forward, and found himself among giant buildings of glass and metal. Sirens blared around him as he charged through the narrow streets of the unfamiliar city, destroying the facades of buildings in his mad dash to escape the noise and ruckus that seemed to follow him. The men of Kemet spoke a different language than before, one that the god did not understand, shouting at him rudely through strange cones that gave them the voices of the gods. The great river god turned to face the chariots that were chasing him, he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the rows of red and blue flames that covered their tops. Men leapt from the chariots wearing clothes that were alien to the god, he was used to the simple linen kilt that was wrapped around his waist. They pulled small black devices from their sides and pointed them at the god. He spoke.
“Why do you torment me? I, who created your river, I who give you life! Do you not remember the great Sobek?!” he roared. But the men did not understand them, they had forgotten both the old gods and the old tongue. Suddenly, one of the black devices spit fire and Sobek reeled in pain as something stung his flesh. He charged, angry and confused, smashing the chariots with his feet and tearing at the men with his mighty jaws. More and more men swarmed around him, hurting him with fire shooters. He swept them down with his arms, pulling them into his mouth and tasting their rich blood. Then he fled, tearing through the streets again, trying to escape the chariots as they chase after him. He had been forgotten, they feared him, they tried to hurt him. He who had given them the river, given them life. He called forth his ancient power and stirred the river bed. The largest river in the world shifted its course, bringing all of its mighty waters into the city at the god’s command. Sobek would teach the puny men who was master. They dared to forget him? They dared? They would suffer. Sobek heard the screams of the people as they fled the frothy brown currents that crumbled buildings and shattered walls. Bright chariots floated on their backs, filled with the drowning and the drowned. Crocodiles swarmed through the water, their mighty jaws devouring those who tried to escape. The city of Cairo had been reclaimed by the great river Nile, the price that humans had to pay for their irreverence towards the old ways.
Sobek flexed his fingers and the river returned to its old path, bringing the debris of Egypt with it. The god froze as he saw the statue float by. It had the head of a crocodile.

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Publication Date: 04-25-2010

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