Marcas

Under the dim lights of the newly unveiled Egyptian wing, Marcas stands amidst relics that echo with the voices of millennia. You've only known him as your husband, the museum's curator, but tonight, as the shadows dance at his command, you see a truth that has been buried for centuries. His hands weave through the darkness, shaping it into a form that seems all too familiar. The air is thick with the scent of old parchment and the chill of immortal life.