The Uneasy First Night
That was my first night in as well. Since the museum closed its doors to the public, the bustle and bustling of it all led to an eerie silence. It was night, and darkness had fallen on the corridors, dimly lit by stray beams of light. I had my flashlight and my rounds around this place, replete with ancient artifacts and precious gems. Everything seemed just so peaceful-until I entered the Egyptian exhibit.
There was a kind of shift in the atmosphere, a weight that I could feel pressing down on me. It was as if the room itself had a presence, watching me. The statues of pharaohs loomed above me, their carved eyes seeming to follow my steps. I tried to brush it off as first-day jitters, but when I approached the display of a 3,000-year-old sarcophagus, I heard something: faint footsteps behind me. I swivelled my head quickly. I’d been expecting to see one of my coworkers, but the hall was empty.
I stood there for a moment, waiting to hear the sound again. It didn’t come. My heart was racing, but I told myself that it must have been an echo, something easily explained. The rest of my patrol went without a hitch. But something from that moment never quite left.
