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Revenge of the cemetery keeper: Series of curses and blood ( part 3 )

The Curse of the Pharaohs

By TEK TRIKPublished 3 months ago 3 min read
Pharaonic tomb

We tried to communicate with the outside, to contact the police, a neighbor, or anyone who might help us, but to no avail.

All the telephones in the house had turned into pieces of iron that could not do anything.

A whole week passed in miserable attempts. We cannot go out and no one can enter us. We do not communicate with anyone and no one can communicate with us.

Even the police came to the house and could not break into it. We could hear everything from outside but no one could hear us as if there was Soundproofing... What helped us to continue during this period was the food that the strange man asked us to store at home before we started digging and excavating...

Everyone began to feel tired, especially my grandfather, who seemed to be on the verge of death. Here the man suggested that a human sacrifice be made.

A small child would be slaughtered and presented to the cemetery guard so that he could leave and free us. Everyone agreed, which shocked me greatly. The youngest child in the house was chosen.

I almost arrived. Madness. I started screaming at them all. I started cursing them and cursing them and cursing their greed and love for money.

I kidnapped the child from the hands of his father, who was not opposed to the idea. I embraced the child and started screaming at them that what was going to happen was a crime and they would never forgive themselves for it.

I thought they understood the matter and moved away. When I calmed down, they snatched the child from my hands, tied me up, and slaughtered the little one without mercy.

They placed the body with its head separated at the entrance. I was watching it like a movie show.

What was happening could never be real. I fell unconscious from the horror of what I saw.

I woke up the next morning to the screams of my uncle’s wife. I quickly went to the source of the sound and found the mother of the slaughtered child. She had killed herself.

She killed herself out of pain and remorse. Her child had been slaughtered while we were still prisoners and nothing new had happened.

Death began to loom over the house. The birds on the roof of the house began to decompose and emit a smell. It was hideous, and the bodies of the child and his mother began to exude terrible odors, so it was decided to dig again to bury them together.

The day had barely ended when my uncle killed the man who suggested slaughtering the child and led to his wife’s suicide.

The days passed slowly, the food decreased, the attempts decreased, frustration and despair took over everyone. My grandfather died and we could not cry for him, as our tears had flowed enough. The children began to suffer from unexplained epileptic seizures. Two children died in one day, and the number began to decrease day after day. .

Today, August 26, 1994, I feel that the end for me is very close.

I feel that I can no longer bear it. Over the past days, I have thought about committing suicide more than a hundred times.

I spend my nights praying not to listen to the voices of all those who have passed away since the beginning of the month.

I spend my nights praying and begging for... May God bring us out of this distress, even if death is the way out. The number in the house has become very small, and I can no longer bear the voices of those who have passed away.

I will not commit another crime against myself, I will not commit suicide, I will wait for relief to come from God.. I will wait for death to come.....

Thank you for reading till the end.❤️

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