In ancient Egypt a slave dreamed of better living, trapped within the confines of the former Pharoah's Pyramid which he helped build, the last of the slaves that survived on the blood of scorpions and rats for the last few days of his life. His mind begged for reprieve, to feel the sun again, to touch the Nile and feel the ground beneath his feet instead of the cold slabs build with his own sweat.
In those times all of this, the possessions, the slaves, the paintings on the walls, were a desperate effort by the powerful to court the gods and buy death with the hundreds they owned to replace the one they came for.
one thousand years and the gods never replied. One thousand years and no man or woman or child cheated Anubis. But one night, one man received word on the wings of a black bird. An invitation to the underworld, alive. The ground opened and blood soaked stairs engulfed the deceased, a dim light glowing soon after as a woman with the head of a cat purring as she seductively walked up the case and extended a silent hand to the thin young man.
Through a thousand tortures and paradises the young slave walked, hand in hand with the gorgeous goddess he knew had to be the beautiful Bis. When he reached the home of the god Anubis. Across a lustful sea that bent like a woman in ecstasy, writhing with fresh souls.