The Cursed Urn

The antique dealer reluctantly agreed to sell the urn for fifty dollars but warned, "I think I should tell you about the curse." He said it seriously and gravely, but the young schoolteacher was unimpressed. She figured that the old man was just trying to keep it for himself.
"What curse would that be?" Elizabeth asked, using the same skeptical tone of voice she used on her students when she was sure they were making things up.
The old antique dealer sighed, "Scoff if you like, missy, but this urn is indestructible. It'll outlast you by a thousand years." He continued to explain how, back in the early days of the pharaohs, the Egyptian priests knew the secret of true magic. The urn had been found in a pyramid that was completely intact. A curse was placed on everything inside and woe would befall anyone who did not take its magic seriously or who had failed to treat it with respect.
"Is that all?" Elizabeth asked. "I think I can handle that." The old man was obviously crazy if he expected her to believe his story. She'd heard more convincing tales out of her fourth graders.
"If you're sure," said the old man hesitantly.
"I am," she reassured him. Elizabeth handed him the money and, with great respect towards it, the old man placed the urn in a small box for her to take home. She thanked him and left the shop. The bell over the door jingled softly, signaling her departure.

That night, Elizabeth studied the urn at her desk. It was small, perhaps nine inches high, and golden, with black enamel. Engraved upon it was a scene of a human sacrifice being made to the jackal-headed Anubis, the ancient Egyptian god of the dead. It was in remarkably good condition for something supposedly thousands and thousands of years old. Oh, Elizabeth had no doubt it was very old, but it looked to her more like a replica perhaps created in the Victorian age to imitate an ancient Egyptian artifact than the actual thing.
She wasn't sure why she'd picked it up in the dusty old shop. Something about it intrigued her. She didn't know why she'd simply had to have it, either. Yes, Elizabeth had taught sixth grade social studies for a time and adored studying ancient civilizations, but to spend fifty dollars on something that was purely ornamental wasn't like her. Still, something about the urn had called to her, pulled her toward it.
Elizabeth picked up the urn to study it in greater detail. It was very well made, the scene of the sacrifice depicted in such detail. She turned it around carefully in her hands then stopped, suddenly. The figure being offered to Anubis looked... looked remarkably like... her! Elizabeth stared at the urn in shock. It had to be a coincidence, she rationalized, but she didn't believe that. She stared and stared at the figure on the urn. Her whole world seemed to consist of her and the urn.
Suddenly the phone on the desk rang, loudly. Elizabeth screamed, startled out of her wits and dropped the urn. The urn hit the edge of the desk and smashed. Elizabeth pushed her chair out of the way, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. "So much for 'indestructible,'" she said once she'd calmed down.
She got up to get the box the old man had put the urn in. Tomorrow, she'd see if she could get her money back. She started to walk out of the room but stopped after a few steps. There was a strange ringing sound filling the room. Elizabeth turned around and backed away a little. The pieces of the urn were glowing slightly and shaking and slowly coming together again. The closer they came to each other, the brighter they glowed. Elizabeth stared as the golden light filled the room. When the light finally faded, Elizabeth had disappeared, and the urn was sitting on the desk in perfect condition.

The body of Elizabeth McCarthy was never found. The only person who knew what had happened to her was the old man from the antique shop. He'd found the only clue he needed the next morning when he opened the shop. There on the back shelf was the urn, looking newer than ever. The old man sighed tiredly. "They never listen, do they?" he said to himself, "I warn them, but they never listen."