A collaborative effort

Very few countries can match Egypt for natural beauty and charm. A blend of ancient and modern. the old indistinguishable from the new. A continuous history in which the past, present and future blend into what can only be called Egypt. A land where time is meaningless, where ocean and desert become one. The land that is the doorway to both the world's largest desert and longest river. A land of contrasts but all forming a harmonious balance of beauty. A well known land with many hidden mysteries.

It was a very ancient looking building even for the easternmost edge of Cairo. Not quite desert, not quite city, not quite rural but definitely Egyptian as only Egyptian can be. The inn was a very solid stone structure. Looking very secure. Not very massive in size yet having the appearance of a fortress. Local tales attest that the building existed even before the Pharaohs. Some old tales circulate that it was built of a single rock by the Jinn. It was a very plain looking building that was extremely complex in it's simplicity. The rock it was built from had a reddish tinge to it which made it stand out from the numerous white limestone structures nearby. It was hard to tell if it was made from one solid stone or from blocks. Looking at it from a short distance one would say it was made of blocks. But, when one examined it closely no seams separating the blocks could be seen. A beautiful but mysterious building, with an ancient date palm standing as sentinel by the Entrance.


It was a cool, pleasant evening as Ahmed wandered into the quiet secluded Inn for a pleasant evening of conversing with a small number of friends. Perhaps to enjoy a pleasant meal together and after sharing a pot of Chai while forgetting all the trials of the day. Even for Egypt the Inn had a very quaint beauty and feeling of mystery about it. The early September evening added to the charm and made for a comfortable evening. Ahmad looked forward to once again seeing his long time friends.

Ahmed walked over to the private dining room he and his friends had reserved for their peaceful dinner and relaxed evening. Like always he was late and his 4 friends were already seated around the table. In the center of the table was a large platter of boiled Fava beans skewered on tooth picks as appetizers. "As Salaamu Alaikum" greeted Ahmed and was returned with a unanimous "wa Alaikum wa Salaam Akhi you're late again." He smiled slightly embarrassed and thought back of how afraid of Fava Beans he was as a child. An older cousin had told him that they were boiled baby crocodile kidneys and if he accidentally ate one that was not cooked fully it would come to life and eat his stomach.

Well I couldn't resist, after i read what others wrote. so here's my contribution.

It was a good thing these blackouts didn't happen when he was out, or he might get run over by a truck or something, he thought. the traffic here was terrible. He let his thoughts roam to his first time in this country, when suddenly the lights went out again and then he heard footsteps. before he could think what to do next, someone pushed his head, keeping it underwater. Ahmed wanted to scream, but he couldn't. he flared his hands about to try to get the hands off his head, but to no avail. his oxygen starved lungs burned. Not being able to keep himself from inhaling, water rushed into his lungs with a horrible pain and he sunk to the bottom to the tub, sure that he was about to die.

he didn't know how long he'd been under water or how long he was unconscious, or whether he was still alive. he heard voices in the distance, unable to decipher what was being said.

someone was pushing his chest hard, saying something, but he wasn't able to decipher what was being said. suddenly, he started caughing, and coughed out water.
"he's still alive, it is miracle," someone said.
"I hope there isn't too much damage," another said.
"we need to get him to hospital," a third voice said. "where is Ali, we need taxi. Jasem, go find Ali."

As Ahmed came to, he gazed at the worried faces around him, there were three now, and one was going out the door, fast. he couldn't recognize them, he had never known them. As he let his glance wander around the room, he realized he was in a totally different world. he had never seen this place before, not even in pictures, with it's strange walls built of large stone blocks and strange antique-looking furniture.

"Ahmed," said man who had been pressing his chest. "Are you all-right?"

"what? my name is Grigor Thomas. where am i and why are you pressing my chest?"

"someone tried to kill you by drowning you. it is good Jasem was passing by and saw a man run out of your house. worried, Jasem came in to check on you and found you underwater. if he had been late, you might have died. i am glad you recovered, Ahmed." the man wiped tears. "what great loss it would be."

"I am telling you, my name isn't Ahmed." Ahmed said, sitting up. "let me go, i don't know you or trust you. where am i?"

He was now sure he had been kidnapped by terrorists. he wished he had listened to his great-uncle and not become a journalist. this must be one of the assignments that the news service must have sent him on.

"You are in Egypt. in it's oldest city ..."
before he could continue, two men ran in.

"what have i heard?" shouted the second man. "is it true someone tried to kill Ahmed?"

"I think it must be one of his old aquantances who weren't happy he converted."


"no," said the man who had shouted. "i think it must have something to do with the will. i read Ahmed's letter. i think someone tried to get a hold of it."

"what in hell are you talking about," ahmed shouted in the rudest manner. "i am calling the police. he tried to get away from the men, but he was too weak to struggle."

"you need doctor," the man named Jasem said. "Ali, go find taxi."

"I am not going anywhere with you guys," Ahmed said. but the men didn't listen. Ali went to get a taxi. After a few minutes, he walked in with who must be the taxi driver. The five men got a hold of Ahmed and picking him up took him out side into the taxi. Ahmed tried resisting them, but he was too weak and outnumbered. he kept shouting. as they lay him in the back seat, locking the door behind him, he was sure he had just landed in some organ-selling ring.

"look, i'll give you whatever money you want, but please let me go," he tried as a last resort.

After some time, they brought him to a hospital, and the doctor started examining him. sure that this was his last moment, Ahmed's head started spinning and the next moment, everything went dark.

He came to the next day, as warm sunshine spilled into the room. looking about, he saw electronic equipment. where was he? suddenly he remembered some of the night before's events. a letter, a key, a fortune-teller telling him about an ancient building in the desert whose key he held, laughing about the nonsense of it to a friend as they walked through the marketplace, someone trying to drown him in a pool of water, four men saving his life and bringing him to this hospital. he looked about and suddenly, fear overtook him. he didn't know who those men were. could it be they had tried killing him and tried to steal his letter and key and when unable to find it, they saved him so they could get information out of him about their whereabouts? he had to get out of here before it was too late. jumping out of the hospital bed, he ran for the window just as the door opened.

i hope there aren't any medical mistakes, as i didn't research for this.

The Doctor attempted to speak with Ahmed to verify if he was lucid and coherent. "Tell me Ahmed, have you ever experienced anything like this episode before" Ahmed's face began to take on a strange appearance his neat short black beard was looking grayish and much longer. Ahmed began mumbling "I must speak with Boris and Sergei immediately"

The doctor looked at Ahmed's friends and asked "Who are Boris and Sergei? Where they with you at dinner?" One of the friends spoke up "Ahmed has never mentioned those names before. I do not know who he is talking about."

Somebody spoke out "It was the fava beans there was something wrong with them. Ahmed looked like he was afraid of something after he ate one." The doctor thought for a moment "Ergot poisoning? Could the beans somehow been contaminated with moldy wheat?"

Ahmed began getting more restless and his appearance was changing even more. His dark brown eyes were starting to look blue. His skin seemed to be wrinkling and aging before their very eyes. the young man was starting to look like a middle aged overweight fair skinned Russian.

Ahmed began mumbling in a strange language "Shto vie delayete? " One of the Nurses spoke up "I'm Russian, he is asking 'What are you doing' in Russian." Ali spoke out "Ahmed doesn't speak Russian."

But Georgi speaks Russian, it is his Native tongue.

Ahmed closed his eyes.

Grigor Georgi Thomas opened them.

He saw no doctors or nurses or machines. No strangers who claimed to be his friends. No hospital room to house them. Grit and sun stung and burned his skin. The smell of antiseptic was usurped by the stench of death. Thunder boomed under a clear sky. Tremors shook the earth beneath his back.

He rose. Sand and rock stretched to the horizon. Bodies on the ground explained the stench. Soldiers to the west thundered hail from their guns, and a tank in the distance shook the desert floor.

The air whistled and the earth belched fire. Grigor sprawled to the ground, covering his head and squeezing shut his eyes.

Ahmed opened them.

The people in the hospital room spoke a language he did not understand but recognised as English. Americans? Was this one of their bases? Had he been captured?

What of Boris and Sergei? Had they been caught? Killed by Afghans or Americans?

Had they abandoned him?

Nobody answered his questions, no matter how much he demanded in his mother tongue, no matter how much he flailed against the plastic line attached to his arm. The doctor moved towards him, face panicked. Ahmed shoved him away. The strangers who claimed to know him held him against the bed. Darkness sucked light from the world.

Grigor blinked light back into it. The desert sand grated against his cheek and someone pulled his face from the ground. Grigor looked into the man’s eyes, registering peripherally his moustache, his fine-cut suit, his curly hair crowned by a red fez.

“Grigor Thomas,” the man in the fez said, “let’s get you home.”

In Zaraysk, Russia; Boris and Sergei stood vigil at the hospital bed of their friend Georgi. His color was beginning to return. He was talking in an unknown language and occasionally asked in English why everybody was calling him Georgi, his name was Ahmed.

Back someplace in the Desert the unknown distinguished looking doctor was trying to elicit a lucid response from Ahmed. He stared in horror as Ahmed seemed to become translucent and then transparent. Before the doctor's very eyes, Ahmed vanished. It was like he had evaporated and the only sign of Ahmed was an ancient key setting on the ground where Ahmed had just been. Along side the key was what seemed to be a carved stone amulet. shaped like a large oval coin with very odd writing on both sides.

In Cairo, Egypt, Jasem gaped at the hospital bed where Ahmed lay. The rest of his friends were talking to the doctor, telling him about Ahmed's past, and muttering about 'screen saver modes'. He didn't know if they had seen him momentarily disappear just minutes ago. He didn't know if they had seen the ancient key and stone amulet which had temporarily flickered into existence while Ahmed was momentarily absent. He didn't know what this meant for his sanity.

In Zarayask, Russia, Boris gasped when Georgi opened his eyes.

In the desert of Afghanistan, Grigori looked at the man in the fez, who had half-carried him to the relative safety of a rocky outcropping. Of the thousand questions swirling in Grigori's mind, he chose to ask, "Have we met before?"

The man in the fez smiled. "Yes and no."

Grigori shook his head. In his mind's eye he saw a hospital room in Cairo. Or Zarayask. Something in his gut told him the room was his. Both of them.

Simultaneously.

"What's happening to me?"

Fez glanced past the rock, then laid a hand on Grigor's shoulder. "This won't be easy to hear."

And despite the bombs exploding in the distance and the pain searing across Grigor's back, he smiled. "Try me."

Fez crouched, rummaging through his jacket pocket. "For starters, there are more than one you."

Grigor wondered if a blast had drowned out some of Fez's words. Grigor managed a hoarse laugh. "Sounded for a minute there like you said there is more than one of me."

Fez didn't smile. "Yes. Unfortunately."

Grigor felt nothing. He did not reply. He closed his eyes. When he opened them, he did not awake into reality. This was not a dream.

Fez pulled a stone out of his jacket. "That's what I'm trying to fix." He set it on the ground. "This crime." Fez placed a hand over the stone and closed his eyes. "I'll bring to justice the evil that split your soul." He uncovered the stone, whose surface was now cracked.

Grigor couldn't believe what his eyes or ears here in the desert, or his mind's eye that showed him Egypt and Russia. "You're saying my soul has been split into three? That I've been split into three?"

"Unfortunately," Fez said, fingers either side of the cracked stone he held before him, "that's exactly what I'm saying. The you that is in Egypt identifies himself as Ahmed. The you in Russia calls himself Georgi. And the you to whom I am talking does not object to being called Grigor Thomas." Fez pulled the stone apart, which broke into three fragments. "Come." He put one in Grigor's hand. "We have a lot of work to do."

The stone fragment in Grigor's hand warmed. The whole world flashed white.

And even when he closed his eyes, Grigor saw only light.

Ahmed looked at the strange stone that was now split into 3 pieces. He knew that he had to trust the stranger in the Red Fez and somehow that was the only way to return to being a whole person. He pondered over the 3 pieces of stone what power did they hold and how could he get them back together into one piece. What is his connection to that stone? It is like he is the stone and the stone is he. But the stone is now shattered, which means he is also shattered. Ahmed being only a small part of whoever he is.

He looked at the strange stone that lay in 3 pieces on his bed side table.


Then he thought if I put the stone together, I will be put back together. Very simple 3 pieces are not much of a puzzle. should be easy enough for even a child to do.

Ahmed rearranged the pieces on the table.


Strange, very Strange. when the pieces are put together, a 4th section vanishes. Ahmed looked up to ask the Stranger what this meant. But the mysterious man in the Red Fez, also vanished when the section of the stone vanished. Who is that stranger and how and why did he mysteriously appear in Ahmed's hospital room?

Ahmed carefully hid the stone fragments in a tear in his mattress. He did not know why, but he knew he could not let anyone know he had those fragments. He wondered, was he also that stranger? How did his mind, soul and body become divided and scattered?

Ahmed's head began to swirl as he began comprehending what is taking place. a gigantic riddle that involved himself, Grigori, Georgi and a mysterious well dressed man in a Red Fez. Included in the riddle are a strange stone, an ancient key and a letter.

Suddenly it hit him. He was not a person divided into 3 parts. He is in close mental communication with 2 other people, Georgi and Gregori. Each of whom must be thinking they are either going mad or existing in 3 places at the same time. As bizarre as it is, this is slowly making sense.

Now to place things in order. It is necessary for all 3 to meet together and come to an understanding as to what is causing this communication between them.----THE STONE
It is not a stone it is some type of communication device, beyond anything previously seen on earth.

The stranger who vanished must be found and his role in this be made known to Ahmed, Georgi and Grigori.

There is something sinister about the ancient key and the letter. Is the key intended to unlock an uncontrolled terror upon the earth or is it the means of capturing and confining an evil force that has already been unleashed.

"Where do I begin?" thought Ahmed. "I can not do this on my own. Who can I trust that will not think I am a madman lost in a world of my hallucinations?" "What is the evil force I am now finding myself in battle with?"

I think this part comes before they discover he disappeared. maybe someone can rearrange.


Waking up from a strange no-doubt sedative induced dream, he looked about the hospital room he was in. It was now night time and moonlight flowed into the room through the large window. He searched his mattress for the stone but it was not there. Nor was there a tear anywhere in the mattress. It was obvious that nonsense was all a dream. Sitting up he wondered if these fools would keep him in this hospital room forever, talking nonsense about delusions and medications and drugs. Not if he could help it, he thought, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed and getting up, a bit shakily because of all the medications that had been injected into him in the past 24 hours or so.

He had to get out of here and fast or they might kill him, he thought as he strode toward the window, happy that noone entered the room unlike last time. Pushing the window open, a cold desert wind entered the room, chilling his skin, but refreshing him at the same time. Looking down, he saw that he was on the third floor of the hospital. The drop was too deep, so he couldn't jump, or he might break his neck. But a tree was nearby, and one of the branches ran right infront of the window. Reaching out, he grabbed the branch, hoping it was strong enough and didn't break with his weight. Hanging onto it, he managed to climb out of the window and move slowly toward the tree using his hands. He was grateful for his army survival training, which came handy at times such as these. Those were the only good things from his bitter past he remembered. Speaking of which, what was that they said about him being devoutly religious? He didn't remember ever going to church, not even on sundays.

Climbing down the tree as well as a cat, he let himself drop from the branch closest to the ground, and ran as fast as he could on shaky legs through the hospital grounds, toward the fence in the distance. Climbing over the fence, he jumped onto the other side. The night was still young and he could see people walking about through the streets, not too far, although this area nearest the hospital was secluded. Where to go, he asked himself silently. He walked briskly down the dark road toward where there were more people, and joined some people bustling through the streets, walking with them until he came to the crowded market area.

There seemed to be many tourists here and the place was very crowded so noone would spot him, but he didn't know who he felt the need to be hiding from as he didn't think the men in the hospital would be looking for him yet. He didn't think they kept such strict guard. Still he felt danger looming overhead and the need to get away without being seen was extremely strong. Maybe they did keep such strict watch over him that they would know he was missing only minutes after he escaped. He saw every stranger as an enemy now.

Moving quickly, he walked through the market place until he came to a large tent. "Read your Fortune Here" said a sign on the entrance. He remembered a fortune-teller telling him something about a building in the desert. Entering the tent, he saw a woman wearing a veil standing behind a table with a small chrystal ball infront of her, and wondered if she was the same person. He didn't know how she had gotten to telling him his future last time as he didn't go to fortune-tellers. Something at the back of his mind told him there was something wrong with it, but he didn't know what or why. Nor did he remember anything from his recent past except for bits here and there. A huge part of his memory seemed to be missing, past the time he was taken to the hospital by his "saviors".

Seeing him, the fortune-teller touched the chrystal ball and it glowed blue, the light shining off it. An electronic trick no doubt, he thought, as he didn't believe in magic.

"Oh, you again." she said softly as he approached her.

"Why didn't you tell me people would try to murder me?" he inquired angrily. If she could read people's future that was what she should've told him last time.

She looked down into the ball, then said, "Something's i cannot see." Staring at him deeply for a moment, she added, "it is the will, it is cursed, you must get rid of it." She was speaking nonsense again, about cursed wills and fortunes and ancient buildings, he thought bitterly. Didn't she have anything better to tell people?

"I don't have the will with me," he said. He took a quick glance around the room, as if his mind was telling him to find some place to hide. It was a strange feeling that he had grown to trust. During his time in the army, it had saved his back quite a few times, although the night someone tried to drown him, it had failed him. Why? the question loomed in his mind.

Looking back at her, he said, "And I can't get it, as there are people after me, trying to kill me. I need some place to hide, you must help me. " Why he was willing to trust her was a mystery to him.

"Go under the table." she said quickly, giving the tent's entrance a quick glance. "There is a secret door in the ground. Go in there and wait for me. Do not come out until I tell you to." she motioned him toward the table. "Hurry" she said in a hushed tone. Why was she acting this way, as if sensing danger. Did she sense the same danger as him? Was the feeling mutual? he wondered. No time to ask questions, he did as she said, going beneath the tablecloth.
Bending down, he searched the ground for the secret entrance, until he found it, the floor's coloring being slightly different there, and a crack separating the entrance from the rest of the ground. He removed the secret door to reveal a small staircase. Going down onto the top landing, he closed the door behind him.

He climbed down the staircase and entered a large dimly-lit room. On one side of the room was a small bed and on the other was a small kitchenette with a gas stove and a few dishes. Near the bed lay a small chest and a doorway was in the wall opposite, leading into a hall and bathroom. This must be the fortune-teller's residence, he assumed. Sitting on the bed, he waited for her.

After what seemed like hours, the fortune-teller came down. As she entered the room, he felt there was something wrong about this. The two of them shouldn't be in the room alone, a meek voice told him. But he didn't know why that was so. He had been alone with women before. Even had girlfriends, so why was it wrong to be alone with this woman?

Taking a deep breath, the veiled woman said, "I will tell you something about your past that you are unaware of. Your great-uncle came to this part of the world years ago. He was an explorer and during his travels, he met someone who gave him a key and map."

Ahmed stared at her as if she had lost her mind, or was this a part of her game? All he knew about his great-uncle was that he hated leaving the house. He had never told him where he had gotten the ancient key, though.

"The man told your great-uncle about an ancient building in the desert, but your great-uncle didn't pay heed. Overtime, he lost the map, but it is somewhere in his estate. The key he kept safe because he thought it would be worth money as it was very ancient."

"How do you know all this?" Ahmed inquired.

"It is my cousin, he works for your great-uncle. He told me about it." she said quickly.

Well, Ahmed thought, that part was true. His great-uncle had an Egyptian helping hand, Abu Isaih. "Go on," Ahmed said.

"My cousin met your great uncle on one of his travels and your great-uncle told him about the will and key. Many years later, during my cousin's research, he discovered that there really existed such a building, in the deserts of Oman. However it's whereabouts were forever lost and it was impossible to discover it as the place was infested with snakes. The building belonged to the Irim civilization and it was thought to contain artifacts worth many millions. The only way to find the building was with the map but the map was lost. It is my cousin's assumption that the map your great-uncle received is the same map, although we don't know for sure. In the hopes of getting the map, my cousin volunteered to work for your great-uncle in return for residence while studying Archeology in the university. In the meantime, he would try to search for the missing map while your great-uncle was away on his travels. However, soon after, your uncle developed a penchant for staying at home for weeks on end, sometimes not leaving his estate for several months. And to my cousin's greatest dismay, everytime he did, he insisted my cousin, Abu Isaih, go with him. And so it became difficult for Abu Isaih to search the estate in his presence. Therefore, for some time now, my cousin has been poisoning your uncle by adding mercury to his food so he might die. Which is what caused your uncle's mysterious illness."

Ahmed couldn't believe what he was hearing. His great-uncle's illness was due to metal poisoning. Curse the inept hospital system for not discovering this, he thought angrily. He wanted to punch someone on the face for not telling him before. But now the information was useless, as his ailing great uncle had passed away just two weeks ago. Ahmed wanted to cry. His dear old but obnoxious great uncle, who had been like a father to him for many years, murdered ruthlessly by someone he had tried to help.

"However," the woman went on, "to my cousin's further dismay, the estate wasn't left to him as he had hoped, but passed on to you, his only living relative. and now my fortune-blinded cousin wants to kill you so that he can claim the estate. This is all i can tell you, Ahmed. Knowing more will only harm you. But you must get away from this place before your enemies find you." She started to move toward the staircase. "You can stay here tonight. i will stay with friends." She added, then climbed the stairs. Before exiting the secret entrance, she turned around and said, "Oh and Ahmed, you are running away from the wrong people. The four men in the hospital are your friends. your real enemies are men on the street whom you don't even know. Farewell." then she was gone, closing the secret door behind her.

He stared up after her. how did she know so much? how did she know about the men in the hospital? did word spread this fast in this area? lying down on the bed, he closed his eyes. he needed to rest. it had been a long day.

After what seemed like an eternal sleep Ahmed woke in what appeared to be a Hospital operating room. He tried to get up and found his arms and legs were restrained with straps to the bed. He noticed he was draped with a sheet and seemed to be wearing a surgical gown. He could hear people talking just outside his view. He could partially understand them and realized they were speaking in Hebrew.

Making out the few Hebrew words he understood he realized one of the speakers was a Neuro-surgeon preparing to operate on him and the other was a Mossad agent wanting to arrest him as a spy and a possible terrorist.

Thoughts flashed through his mind. What was he doing in an Israeli Hospital and why was he going to be operated on?

Suddenly he felt something warm in his hand and feeling the shape he realized it was this:


the vanished piece of the stone.

The stone grew warm in his hand and his eyes began closing. After what seemed like a brief moment he woke up to the sound of the fortune teller's voice. "Wake up, breakfast is ready."

I already wrote the following part so i will post it anyway. what i do is that i copy what others have written to notepad (since i don't have internet at home), take it home and read it there, then write the next part. that is why my part may not fit with what the others wrote, but i guess we can try to fix it up later in the revision stage.

This part contaions some background information which will let us know more about our character.

Meanwhile, back in the secret room:

Ahmed wondered whether he had just landed in a trap? was the fortune-teller really trustible or was she one of them? she did say his great uncle's murderer was her cousin, so how did he know she wasn't working for him? he had no way to find out and there didn't seem to be anything he could do. he had clearly landed in a hotspot and he wondered what he had done to cause this to happen to him? Surely it must have to do with his terrible past and his many wrong-doings.

Closing his eyes, he recalled his bitter past. His memory seemed to have come back and he could remember the recent events as well as his more distant past from the time before he converted. There were parts he remembered very clearly, parts that haunted him and he assumed would forever haunt him, parts that he wished he could bury somewhere and they would never resurface. He recalled being abandoned by his parents at the tender age of 7 because he had left his 4 year old sister in the snow and she had died of cold. It hadn't been his fault altoghether. They had been playing in the knee-deep snow and he had left her there, assuming she would return home by herself, but she never did. When their parents went looking for her, they found her dead. and so his parents blamed him for her death and his mother hated looking at him, thus abandoning him within the next month. and so for the next three years he stayed in a foster home until finally at age 10 his great uncle had taken him to live with him. He'd lived there for the next five years, until he ran away at the age of 15. He had been a difficult child who hated discipline and wanted to do as he wished and didn't want to be obligated to anyone else. With nowhere else to go and with the hope of getting glory, he joined the army. However, after two years in the army he grew tired of it and wanted out. Opportunity came his way when he was struck on the head during practice and blacked out for several hours. The black outs continued for a few weeks and he used them as an excuse to deem himself unfit for duty. He would fake blackouts often and got his doctor to write a report that he was permanently disabled and unfit for any work. During one session, his doctor hinted that if his condition had been real, he could get a huge amount of money from the army and using that hint, he hired a lawyer and was able to receive a large lumpsum of money damages as well as a regular pension as compensation since he was regarded permanently disabled. His doctor received a share of the money for the fake reports they wrote. He was quite able to use deception to get his way in life, although he didn't consider this complete deception, since his condition was triggered by the army accident and he got the blackouts occasionally, although not as often as he faked. However, the truth was that he had had these blackouts before, his first attack having come after his sister's funeral. He had been sad and regretful, considering himself responsible for her death and the night she was buried, he had blacked out, not coming to consciousness until several hours later. He assumed it had been the cause of an unsuccessful attempt to repress the gruesome memory.

After he left the army, he received a grant to go to college based on his handicapped condition and thus became a journalist. Since he was financially well-off and received a regular monthly pension, he joined an AFP newsservice as a freelance journalist, going to various countries and trying to get stories that he might sell to the News Service.

As he recalled his past, he started to understand the meaning of some of his recent bizarre dreams. his soul being divided into many parts probably had to do with the different lifestyles he had held; his childhood, his time in the army, his life after leaving the army but before he converted, which was a life of deception and self-serving actions even though he didn't do anyone major harm, and the life after he converted. These were all very different lifestyles and seemingly different personalities. His recollections of himself in two places at the same time probably had to do with memories that were stored in his brain, which he probably remembered recurrently because of the near-drowning or because of the shock of the event or because of sedatives or maybe all of them.

He also remembered some of the names from his recent dreams, although he had yet to figure out who was the man in the red fez was. He wondered if he was his great uncle's archiac? or had his great-uncle ever worn a red fez in his youth? he didn't know as he had known his great uncle only for 5 short years, most of which he had spent at the bording school, being home only on weekends and during the summer.

Boris and Sergei had been his seniors in the army. Georgi wasn't a man but a Greek Gypsy woman he had had a short relationship with in Romania. The woman had been a bit mysterious who kept her past a secret, always thwarting attempts from him to figure out who she really was, but he assumed that was how all the Gypies were. It was one thing that drew him to her. At some point he had grown bored with her and told her he was leaving. She had begged him to marry her, saying that if he stuck by her, he would be safe otherwise, something bad might happen to him. He assumed that was just her way of trying to convince him and so didn't think much about her utterances. and so he left her, promising to see her on his return. But she had strangely said, Grigor, i am afraid you will never return this way. He wondered if she had really known that or if she simply assumed because that was the way men were, making promises they never intended to keep? At the time he had planned to return to Romania but didn't plan to see her again.

But when he came to Egypt, things changed. He was introduced to a different culture, one of celibacy and purity, of sincerity and hospitilaty, although celibacy wasn't required, it was the way until one married. Several of his friends were now married while others were engaged to be married soon, however there was no such thing as relations before marriage, at least in the muslim community. He had been drawn to this way of life, loving all the other aspects of their lifestyle. He especially loved their intense brotherliness and so within a year of coming here, he had converted. He had met several great friends, including the four who had become friends for life, Jasem, Ali, Abu Hasan, and Gamal. Jasem and Ali were studying Islamic Religion in the university and with their encouragement, Ahmed too joined the University. For 6 years he studied the course non-stop, getting his masters' degree just 6 months ago.

He had presumed this place as his home, never thinking of leaving. He planned to settle down soon with some Eygptian woman, never looking back at his old life or the women he had left behind. He never thought that anything would come his way to disturb his well-planned life.

And now he wondered which of his past wrong-doings was it that had caused such demons to be unleashed at him. He could throw away the will and disclaim RedRose manor, and hope that his greed-blinded enemies would leave him alone, but he wasn't a coward to give up something that was rightfully his. he never planned to go there or live there, but it was his heritage and he intended to make it his own, even if it meant fighting to death.

His fatigued eyes closed and he went into a dark snooze, dreaming of wild things happening. a little while later, he heard scraping sounds. Waking up, he realized that someone was opening the entrance to the secret room. He looked about the room and wondered if there was any place to hide. Jumping off the bed, he got ready to attack.

"It's me," said a female voice. The voice had a remarkable familiarity. He recognized it now as being the fortune-teller's voice, however, he felt he knew that voice from some place else, some time in his distant past. But who? he couldn't put his finger on it.

She came down after a moment. "i came to let you know that this is your chance to escape." she said. "the city is asleep and the streets are vacant, so you can go out without being spotted. Get a taxi and go out of town."

"why should i trust you," he inquired.

"look Ahmed, if i was one of the enemies, your enemies would be here and not me."
she had a point, but he wondered if they might be waiting for him outside. if maybe she didn't want to disclose her secret room.

She sighed and he wondered if she had read his mind. "Look Ahmed, please, you must trust me. you must go out of here and get away. this is your only chance. you can't hide here forever, they will find you."

he thought she was right. if she was sincere, then this might be his last chance. For allhe knew, they might not know that he had left the hospital. However tomorrow word would spread that he wasn't in the hospital and then his enemies would be looking for him, no doubt. Nodding, he started to go up the stairs. but when he got out of the tent, with her behind him, he saw that there was a taxi on the edge of the road, and four men waiting by it.

he stopped cold. had she tricked him? why hadn't she told him someone was waiting for him. Although the four were the same from the hospital, he couldn't be sure whether they were enemies or friends. she said they were his friends but he didn't recognize even one of them.

"Ahmed, it is i,Jasem." strangely, his voice was familiar. yes that was Jasem, Ahmed thought , a man who had been his friend for over 7 years now. he didn't think that this man he had known for so long would double-cross him now. walking forward, Ahmed said, "Jasem, what is going on."

"We don't know," Ali said. "but we need to get you out of here. Get in the taxi fast." Ahmed did as he was told, because he recognized the men's voices although strangely their faces weren't in his memory. he quickly entered the back of the taxi while Abu Hasan and Gamal sat on either side, he assumed to block him from view. Ali and Jasem entered the front passenger seat.

As the driver drove off, Ahmed watched the fortune teller enter the tent, and for a second in his mind he saw a different woman. but that image disappeared too soon for him to figure out who it was and what it had to do with this woman.

"please drive slowly here," Ali told the taxi driver as they drove through the silent streets of the city. "It is very early. we don't want to disturb the residents. Once we are on the highway, you can go faster."

And so the driver did as he was told. Once they left the vicinities of the city, he drove at over 160 Kilometers, the car's alarm beeping to let them know they were driving too fast. "Are you trying to kill me," Ahmed couldn't help blurting. "will you slow down a bit."

"I am only trying to get you to the airport for your flight. Jasem said you need to get there before sunrise. it is a great distance, if you don't want to miss your flight."

Ahmed wondered if Jasem had lied to the taxi driver to keep him from knowing the truth or whether they had reserved a flight for him? As they drove, Ahmed wondered about the events that had just taken place. why had the fortune-teller tried to save his life? what had she to gain by it? just then he recalled that he hadn't gotten the will. whispering to Abu Hasan his concern, Abu Hasan said, "the madame gave it to us along with the key and letter. she said you had given it to her to keep safe." Ahmed stared at Abu Hasan. What? how had the fortune teller get the will? how had she known where he had kept it? somethig mysterious was going on and he didn't think there would be any way to find out.

Throughout the way, Ahmed slept, his head resting on Gamal's shoulder. He had had some stressful time and hadn't been able to sleep peacefully, and now he was catching up on his sleep. in the back of his head, there were questions that he needed answers to. They were coming to life as he slept. when he awoke, he hoped he could get answers from his four friends. Something hadn't been done right. Why had his friends lied to the doctor? they had found him nearly dead from drowning, someone had seen a man leave his home, obviously someone had tried to murder him, but they had deliberately kept that a secret from the doctor. Did they really think his drowning was the result of his blackouts? had they been trying to save him from a psychiatric diagnosis? Or would including forensic doctors and the police have complicated things? he needed to know the answers to these questions and he hoped the others would have them.

But when he got off the taxi, he realized he was really at the airport. "Your plane leaves in 1/2 hour. you must board fast." Gamal said "Abu Hasan has a friend in the airport and he has kept your seat for you. here is your passport and ticket. Stay safe. call us when you get there."

And so, Ahmed parted with his four friends, on his way to his next destination, to try to claim his inheritance, get his great-uncle Borsilav's murderer arrested, and decide what to do about the information about the ancient building he had received from the fortune-teller. He would get answers to his questions through email, he hoped.

seems this thread is forgotten. i guess i'll revive it. writing it will be great exercise. readers can give ideas where the story should go.


after being on the plane for a while, Ahmed started to feel jittery. something wasn't right, but he didn't know what. was somethin wrong about to happen. looking at the map in front, he saw that the plane was heading the right way, but he couldn't shake off the feeling. so he took out his compass and was shocked to see that the plane was headed the in the wrong direction. it wasn't at all going in the direction being shown on the map.what was happening? why was the map lying? it took a moment for him to realize that the plane was being hijacked. obviously his enemies were on to him. if they took him where they wanted, he'd be dead. looking out the window, he saw that he was somewhere over a mountain range. a moment's thinking and he had his mind made up. getting up, he went to the back of the plane and grabbed the parachute. then opening the emergency window, he jumped of the plane. at times like these he was glad for his army training.

what happens next?

it is my hope that some talented members of this site will join in and continue this beautiful story. for now, here's my next addition. (By the way, i haven't researched police procedures at present, etc so if there are any mistakes, please forgive and correct them. thanks)


As he landed on the cold white snow, his mind travelled to another winter day - He and his sister were playing out in the snow. And with that memory, his mind blacked out.

When he awoke, he was lying on a mat in a warm room with a fire lit at the fireplace. Looking around, he saw that some people were seated at tables in one side of the room and another part of the room had a reception desk. And he realized that he was probably in an inn. Raising himself off the floor and sitting up, Ahmad tried to remember what had happened and where he was.

“He’s alive,” said a man coming into the room from a door behind the reception desk. “Hello stranger,” the man continued in a strange accent, approaching him. “what brings you to this place? We found you fainted at the bottom of the mountain. What is your story.”

“I was on a training mission.” Ahmad replied. “but I made a mistake and landed in the wrong place.”

“piloting lessons?” the man asked. Ahmad assumed the man had found the parachute which must have landed not too far from him.

“Yes,” Ahmad said, feeling that would be safer than saying that he’d been training for the air force or telling him his real story.

“You can stay here,” the man said. “we have many English visitors in this part of the country, though not at this time of year.”

Ahmad nodded, standing up. “thank you. I will need some rest and food, but I will be on my way soon as I must report to my instructor.”

The man, whom Ahmad learned was the owner of the inn, showed him a room and a restaurant in an adjoining building. “Stay as long as you want. Visitors are always welcome,” he said.

Ahmad gave him a $100 bill as payment for the room which the man took quickly. Although Ahmad knew that amount was most likely more than the cost of the room but he needed to win the man’s good side, especially since he’d landed in the country illegally without a visa. Then he headed to the restaurant to get something to eat.

After spending several days at the inn and sorting out his situation, he took a flight back to his home country. Because Abu Isaiah didn’t know when or from where he would be entering the country, Ahmad hoped he would easily be able to enter the country and take care of the matter before Abu Isaiah learned of his arrival.

Unfortunately, no sooner had he entered the airport, he was arrested, two men grabbing him and starting to place handcuffs on his hands.

“What’s happening here?” Ahmad yelled, trying to stop the cops.

“You can cooperate or we will press more charges against you which will make your case worse,” one of the officers told him.

“at least tell me what I’m being arrested for.”

“Go ahead. Play it innocent.” The other officer said, leading him outside the building and into a police car.

Ahmad realized he was in trouble now for sure and this time there was no escape. He assumed these were men working for Abu Isaiah and his end was here soon. But to his good fortune, he was taken to the police station. At least he hadn’t been taken to some underground warehouse and killed. Soon he would be able to convince the authorities that this was all a mistake and he was innocent, he thought.

At the police station he was shocked when he was informed of his crime: that he had murdered a Greek Gypsy woman in Egypt and then fled the country to some unknown destination.

“I didn’t.” Was all Ahmad could say. His mouth had gotten totally dry from the awful allegation and his mind became dizzy as he tried to sort things out. It was obvious he’d been framed. “I don’t even know anyone Greek there,” he finally said.

“She was your former girlfriend,” the officer said. “She worked at the festival at night while studying Art at the University. You struck her on the head and she’s been in a coma since. Doctors are unaware if she’ll live.”

Ahmad’s eyes widened as he realized who the mysterious fortune-teller was.

“Ring a bell?” The officer said.

“I had seen a fortune-teller there and I suppose she’s the same woman but I never saw her face in Egypt and didn’t know who she was.” Ahmad replied. “And I didn’t kill her. When I left Egypt she was alive. Someone else must have done it.”

“you were the last person she was seen with. You’d spent the night in her place. Furthermore, doctors’ reports state that she was hit on the head several hours before Egypt. It’s obvious that you struck her, and when she fainted, took a taxi to the capital and fled the country. All clues point at you and there are witnesses testifying to when you left the place, including the taxi driver who drove you to the capital.”

Ahmad wondered whether the doctors’ reports were true or had been made up. It was easy to do that sort of thing in Egypt.

“I need to make a phone call.” He said. “And I need a lawyer.”

To be continued.
What will happen next? Will Ahmad be able to prove his innocence? And what will become of the fortune-teller? Will she die or will she survive and be able to testify to the truth?

This story was such a wonderful piece. It's sad to leave it incomplete. I'll write the next part. Feel free to join in with anything, even a few lines. I'm sure someone has ideas to move this piece forward.
You don't have to add to the plot. Write something about the setting, the characters, even the law and police procedures. I'm sure each of the writers have something valuable to add.


Ahmad sat in the jail cell waiting for his trial. And tried to make sense of everything. What was happening? Would he be able to prove his innocence? So far the fortune teller was still in coma. He hoped she'd come through though he wondered whether doctors there would let that happen. Surely Abu Isaiah didn't want his cousin dead? But if it served his aims, then he might do anything. How far would he go?

He opened the last package from his great uncle and looked through the contents again. The map was strange and didn't make any sense to Ahmad. The key was a dusty but not rusted. If it was as old as the fortune-teller claimed, then it was strange that it was still in such good condition. Ahmad rubbed it with a cloth and gasped. It glistened silver where he rubbed. The key was obviously made of silver. Placing it back in the tiny box it came in, Ahmad picked up the other contents of the package and found a letter from his uncle among the papers of the will.

Reading the letter made him sad all over. His uncle spoke of his worsening condition. "I am ill," it said, "and don't think I have long to live. You are a son to me that I never had. therefore, i'm leaving the entire estate to you.
The estate's caretaker is Abu Isaiah. Be careful of him. he's strange and mysterious and is always poking around in the library. I don't know what he's doing but it seems he's looking for something. I'm afraid it is the map and key. I do not know what they are for but if he's so eager to fid them, then they must be worthy.
So don't let on that you have them. Speaking of the library, there is a black leather diary there with some information about your family, if you're interested in learning anything. But I must say, it will only make you sad as will my death i'm sure, though it has been so long that I haven't seen you."

and then the letter went on and on about various things. There were a total of 7 pages there, all handwritten in the perfect scribble of his great uncle's. By the time Ahmad was finished with it, his mind was a swamp, swarming with thoughts and questions. What secrets did the leather diary contain? What information was there about his family that he didn't know?