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SUMMARY: An excert from my novel Ialtaboath that I adapted into a free-standing short story. It's the story of Exodus told from the POV of Pharaoh.

Moses, God, and the Plagues- A Pharaoh's View
William Hrdina

Ramses the Second took a stack of papyrus and a quill and ink from the scribe's desk. His dark face was droopy, his eyes sunk. The writing implements were special, designed by Haqqiz, a brilliant engineer who'd proven priceless with his innovative methods in pyramid and statue building. Haqqiz's special quills made for remarkably clean lines which allowed Ramses to write far more on a single piece of papyrus than would normally be allowed.
Ramses was a little nervous about writing for himself. Under usual circumstances he had an entire stable of people trained to write down his every word.
But not this time- not for this task.
It was the duty of Ramses to chronicle, if only briefly, the terribly bizarre events of the past several months. His entire city was on the edge of chaos, the massive unrest and slaughter having pushed the citizenry to the limits of their tolerance. Ramses knew that there was even a chance for rebellion. Events of such magnitude could not be left to the hands of mere mortals. The definitive account of events was going to be written by him and him alone.
The once proud and powerful Pharaoh looked out over what would later be known as the Giza Plateau, at the sight of his latest monument. Of them all, this one was the hardest to build. Not because of the stone or for the massive technical details, although the structure was the most difficult thing his men had ever attempted, but because he hated it. He watched with a ferocious scowl on his face as the men below swarmed over the thing like ants.
Ramses wished he could order the thing crushed down into dust. But he could not. The statue was part of his truce with the creature.
The one the people called... God.
The monument that so inspired the Pharaoh's ire?
The Sphinx.
It was a monument to evil, to the weakness of the Egyptian Gods, and to his own vulnerability and failures.
Even though the entire city worked very hard to dispose of the masses of dead, there was still a stench that hung in the air five years after the Exodus. It lingered, a terrible incense of death that soaked into the sand itself. To smell it made Ramses want to retch and cry at the same time.
The bones of Ramses own son were still drying in the sun. He would have been mummified, but the creature didn't leave the body in any shape to have anything done to it at all. Instead Ramses left the bones as an angry taunt to Ra.
He had the remains lain to rest atop the highest spire in the city so that Ra could not help but to see them every time he looked upon his kingdom.
Ramses religious faith was destroyed, which was especially difficult because his entire Gestalt was based on his being divine. Still, there could be no doubt, if he was divine, the creature called God was much more so.
The thought such a thing could be true shook the leader of the largest civilization on earth to the core.
After a bit of wandering around, Ramses found a place in the sun where he could write his account of what happened.