The Lost Egyptian Queen

You could call it irony when I awoke in the tomb that had been built and waiting for me since my father ordered so on my tenth birthday. Of course, I did not awaken in a sarcophagus, nor did the material possession of my mortal life surround me. I awoke on the ground, my hair and tunic covered in the dirt of the earth.

I glanced around me and was surprised to see that my eyes adjusted quickly to the dark, to the point that I could have sworn a torch had been lit in the tomb. Before me the paintings stared down at me; the likeness of Anubis standing out most of all.

"They did build such a beautiful resting place for you, my Queen," a voice echoed against the walls. My eyes snapped towards this voice, and the man from my gardens loomed before me. I stood up quickly, moving faster than I ever could have imagined. Immediately, my legs felt shakey, unsteady, but there was a strength in me I could feel as well. Yet still, I reached my hand out to steady myself against the cold wall.

"What game you are playing at I do not know, but once this is over, you are a dead man." I ignored his laughter. "No one kidnaps a queen and leaves unscathed!"

"You are not Queen!" He snapped. "Not any longer..." And his voice held such seriousness, such a tinge of finality that I was sure my soul must have been weighing against the feather as we spoke, I was simply waiting to be devoured, to disappear for all of eternity.
It took me a moment to will my voice to work, and when it did, it came out meeker than I would have liked.

"I am dead." It was more of a statement than a question. The man smiled sweetly.
"In a way," he answered. I went to ask further questions, but was stopped by an unfathomable feeling of hunger. Not a stomach rumbling, not a craving for food, but an untouchable emptiness that cried out to be filled.

"But... But I hunger. Surely one does not hunger in death," I spoke more to myself than him, but my words seemed to amuse him.

"Oh," he started, "but one does hunger in death."
He took a few steps towards me until we were nearly nose to nose. He reached up and cupped my cheek, and something in my refused to recoil. No, something in me adored his touch. This only made him smile wider.

"In death, we always hunger, my child."