LaCroix relished the thought of a quiet evening and settled onto the sofa in his room with a barely repressed sigh. The noisy revelers in the front room of the gothic styled club were too much for him to deal with this evening.

Feeling the cold hand of loneliness attempting to steal over him, he decided to spend the evening in a harmless human pastime -- watching television. Flipping through the channels, LaCroix discovered an intriguing marathon of mummy movies playing on one of the more adventuresome cable channels. He settled down to a quiet evening and lifted a glass of bloodwine to his lips.

The marathon was halfway through the third movie when LaCroix began to feel drowsy. His eyelids drooped lower and lower, as he slowly drifted into a light doze.

Egypt, 1920

The sandstorm continued to grow worse. The lone figure staggered through the blinding storm, struggling to find some shelter as he traversed the desolation encompassing the Valley of the Kings. LaCroix stumbled as the gray wall of wind and sand howled around him, silently cursing his absent servants. They had all disappeared two nights before when it became apparent that he was close to discovering his life's goal. He would find the ancient tomb of the golden prince. Nothing, not a lack of helpers, this storm, or the whispered hint of a curse attached to this particular tomb would stop him.

The tall, imposing man lifted the lantern in an attempt to illuminate his way a little better. Through the swirling clouds of sand, his eyes saw the aperture of what appeared to be a cavern of sorts. He quickly stepped in, glad to have cover from the unrelenting storm.

Once inside, he used the lantern to get a better look at his surroundings. This was not a natural cavern; indeed, it had all the earmarks of a fabricated structure. LaCroix, curious now, walked further into the edifice. Suddenly, a wall loomed ahead. He leaned closer, a spark of excitement flaring when he noticed an ancient symbol brazened clearly into the stone. Translating the script, he read:

"Humph. Superstitious nonsense." He pulled the heavy backpack off his shoulders, dropped it to the ground, and began the work he lived for.

After a bit of effort, LaCroix located the nearly invisible door and noted that the seal was intact. Not believing his good fortune, LaCroix swiftly began his siege, determined to breach the massive door. Through determination and a bit of luck, he managed to work the door open. A horridly foul odor surrounded him as the long- imprisoned air rushed by. He quickly covered his nose and mouth and stepped back from the gaping dark opening to wait for the inevitable transfer of air to occur.

Bending the established rules for safety, he lifted the lantern off the floor and stepped into the chamber once an absolute minimum amount of time had passed.

The first thing that occurred to LaCroix was that the room was illuminated. Confusion and curiosity warred within him. Since the seal had been intact, how could all these candles still be burning after all these centuries? "Amazing..." He reviewed his memories of a short time ago, replaying the images; he had stared impatiently at the darkened archway as he waited for this room to air out. "I could have sworn there was no light in here," he muttered, stepping deeper into the room, letting this inconsistency go for the moment in his zeal to examine the room.

The flickering light made the golden figures and objects that filled the room glow with an almost surreal luster. It was an amazing collection, but surely this was not the treasure warned about on the sealed door. There had to be more.

After walking around the room a few times, he noticed something out of place on the wall across from the door. A hand-sized figure was slightly embossed from the wall, surrounded by an intricate series of hieroglyphs. He approached the wall for a closer look.

LaCroix brushed his fingers across the writings, working through the translation. "To obtain... the heart's crown," he growled in frustration as he realized this wasn't right. "Not crown, then what is... ahhh." A determined look crossed his face as he finally had the translation worked out. "To obtain the heart's highest desire, embrace the spirit's form."

LaCroix stepped back from the wall and considered which course of action he should take. Though his safety was paramount, he could feel a growing uncontrollable urge to trigger what, to him, was an obvious inner door. Unable to fight the encompassing impulse he pushed against the small, vaguely human shaped rock.

Suddenly, the key slowly turned horizontal. Low grating sounds rumbled through the room as a portion of the wall jerked upward to vanish into the ceiling, revealing a hidden interior chamber. LaCroix gasped in delight. The room was dimly lit, unlike the outer chamber. The archeologist stepped inside and raised the lamp high, then took a quick breath in surprise when he spotted the sarcophagus. It was large and ornate, obviously made for an Egyptian ruler.

LaCroix saw that the seal around the funerary box was unbroken, as had been the outer seal to the treasure room. He couldn't believe his good luck. Soon he would be wealthy and famous beyond all imagination!

LaCroix reached for the tools he needed to break the sarcophagus' seal and began to work. In a short time, he had the lid ready to move. It was heavy, but after years of hard work, LaCroix had built up enough strength to handle it alone. With the large top precariously balanced across the top of the coffin, he gave the lid a massive shove. The great stone crashed to the floor, breaking into dozens of large pieces and stirring up a great cloud of dust.

Weaving carefully through the scattered clutter of sand and broken stone, LaCroix approached the sarcophagus, his pulse escalating in anticipation of his find. Mounting the steps surrounding the dais, he reached his goal and looked into the silk- lined sarcophagus.

"Oh, Gods..." LaCroix breathed as he visually devoured the shapely, wrapped form laying before him.

A fine golden chain circled one ankle. Fiery blue and green stones winked in the pale light, sparkling from a girdle of gold. A massive ring with a large emerald graced the right hand ring finger. This same hand grasped the hilt of a deadly looking sword, its blade crossing the bandaged, broad chest in defense. A pendant of the clearest honey amber hung round this very masculine figure's neck. However, the most impressive item was the finely detailed gold mask covering the head of the mummy! A very sensual, handsome face greeted the world, the precision of detail so great, LaCroix expected the eyes to open and the golden lips to speak.

With his breath accelerating in his excitement, LaCroix reached a shaky hand toward the handsome head and slowly lifted the mask. Holding the golden treasure delicately, he walked away from the sarcophagus, heading toward the wall-mounted torches he had lit soon after entering the room. "What a find! The archaeological community will not believe this," he muttered as he turned the mask over to examine it more closely.

A slight noise whispered behind the distracted man, breaking into his rumination. LaCroix slowly turned only to freeze in place. His mouth fell open, though no sound was uttered as he watched the wrapped mummy step down from his ancient resting place

. The silent figure seemed to stare at LaCroix for a long moment, then turned, and leaned his great sword carefully against the sarcophagus. Turning back to the shocked human, the tall mummy slowly paced to the middle of the burial chamber. With about ten feet separating them, he stopped, the wrapped arms hanging calmly beside his body.

The golden mask fell from LaCroix' hands as he watched, in horror, this seemingly impossible re-animation. A moment later, a sensation of warmth and security seemed to fill and surround him as the mummy raised a long, strong arm and gestured for him to approach.

LaCroix walked slowly closer, wondering whether he was dreaming. He reached towards the head of the masculine form and slowly unwrapped the bandages that had been placed there eons before. Pale flesh teased his senses, promising great visual beauty as he removed more of the thin wrappings.

His hands dropped as the silken bandages fluttered to the floor. LaCroix examined the uncovered features, noting the proud chin, the delicious lips, and the fine cheek-bones as his perusal continued upwards. He barely registered the wavy, dark blond hair framing this unknown ruler before a piercing pair of dark blue eyes locked with his own ice-blue orbs, drawing him into an abstruse intimate connection.

Feeling emotions long denied rising, LaCroix blinked, trying to break free from the intense gaze. He took a step back and almost gasped as he finally absorbed the unimaginable beauty of the handsome creature facing him.

His eyes returned to the expressive blue gaze. An unbidden thought flashed through him. Stepping forward, he reached for the remaining bandages and began to unwind them, feeling his arousal climbing as more firm, masculine flesh was uncovered.

Finally, all the bandages lay coiled amidst the glittering wealth of girdle and jewelry, revealing a form as near to perfection as LaCroix had ever witnessed. He walked slowly around the quiescent figure, devouring the sight before him. The prince was tall with a horseman's physique. Long legs rose upward to strong muscular thighs, flaring slightly to join at the hip, highlighting a toned, gorgeous ass. A long, semi-erect penis hug from the uncovered groin, hinting at an impressive size when fully stimulated.

Dragging his eyes onward, LaCroix noted the trim waist that flared gracefully into a broad, muscular chest. The handsome blond head was supported by a long, graceful neck, which flowed into wide, powerful shoulders. Strong, athletic arms fell gracefully to delicate long- fingered hands. Gods!

This had to be the true Golden Treasure of the Tomb!

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