Plotline: It wasn't suppose to happen, but fate sometimes twisted her hand for a little excitement. The Sarcophagus of Ramses II should have remained entombed where it had first been buried. The Sarcophagus had been unearthed and brought out, sold to a museum in a city of Japan. The museum should have left Ramses' corpse within that sacred coffin. Instead, they decided to display him for all to see. A visit from one person would reawaken the great Pharaoh to a world of mystery, fear, and anger. Ramses was alive again, fully human, but there was one catch. He still had his gods with him, and they are out for revenge.
Thunder groaned, opening his eyes to a bright light. Frank's concerned face peered down at him, intently watching him. Thunder pulled back just a little and shut his eyes against the brightness, turning his head slightly away. "Too bright," he mumbled. The lamp immediately went out, making the room a shade darker. He opened his eyes again.
Frank sat back down on the recliner across from the couch Thunder had been laying on. "You've been out for three days," he said. "How are you feeling?"
"Like Shades punched me," Thunder mumbled. "I don't remember anything."
Frank frowned. That was a big concern, considering things. He suspected something had happened to where Thunder had used a part of his healing power that would cause him to go into unconsciousness for this long, but he wasn't positive. "Flash found you at the museum where the display Ramses II was supposed to be. They said the mummy of the Pharaoh is gone, and you were unconscious. Rumor has it you tried to stop some thieves, but they overpowered you and left you."
"If that happened, why didn't they call an ambulance?" Thunder asked. He reached up to his forehead and removed a dried up, previously wet washclothe.
"Flash convinced them not to, lucky for you," Frank said. Being in a hospital with so many injured, sick, and dying people would have had Thunder's healing powers leaping out of control, and while people would call the healing a miracle, or some other
****, Thunder would have been severely weakened. Three days unconsciousness was bad enough, and it greatly bothered Frank when Thunder couldn't remember what had happened.
Frank's phone rang suddenly. He answered it, keeping one eye on Thunder who seemed to start drifting back off toward sleep again. "Yeah?" A frown of disbelief and seriousness came over his face. "A bunch of frogs at the museum? That's not my department. You guys need to call animal control." The person on the other end spoke, almost rapidly. "Wait, a man in a loinclothe spat them out of his mouth?" This was getting weirder and weirder. "Fine. I'm on my way. Don't touch them..." He hung up and looked at Thunder. "I need to head out. Get some rest. I'll be back as soon as I can."
Thunder gave a tiny nod that Frank hadn't almost seen. In the next couple minutes, as he prepared to leave, he heard a soft rhythmic breathing. Hopefully Thunder would sleep restfully until he got home.
He went out the door, locking it tight behind him, got in his car, and drove off, heading for the museum.