"One Night in the Museum" Written Version. Read Version is above.
A story that was once read by Stephen King and got an Honorable Mention.
One Night in the Museum
A short story by Richard Senate & Kyle Christenson
It was dark at the city museum that night. The darkness did not hamper Joe; in fact he was glad it was dark because the darkness concealed his after hours entry. He had with him the tools of his trade, the pry bar, the electronics to jam the alarms, and a powerful flashlight.
In no time at all he had used all of the skills to pry open the window. Joe, laughed to himself as he examined the ancient alarm system. It was a simple thing to disable the wires and swing himself though the window. He knew the aged watchman was in his office watching TV. He would not be a problem and if he was, there was the 32 caliber pistol in his pocket.
Joe made his way down the long corridor; his beam of light flashing on statues and portraits of other eras. Soon he found what he was seeking and the flashlight played on an ancient papyrus scroll marked with painted designs and intricate hieroglyphics. The scroll was a holy document of the Ancient Egyptians, worth fifty thousand dollars to a certain wealth private collector.
Joe broke the glass case and snatched up the scroll. It felt funny in his hand, like sandpaper still warm from the sun. He started to leave the Egyptian Room and returned to the window he had opened. He then stopped suddenly.
Joe heard voices at the window. It must be the police, he thought. He listened and from what he heard it was two police officers. They were called in when the watchman found the open window.
"We better check the place," one said as he drew his revolver. "Who ever did this might still be inside." Joe listened as the old watchman let them in. The overhead lights went on, as the policemen patrolled from room to room.
Somehow Joe always kept one room ahead of them. His heart pounded fast as he found himself trapped in the last room—The Egyptian Room with the broken case. Joe hid behind a large stone idol next to a tall mummy case.
Just as he found his place of concealment, the door opened. The two blue uniformed men glanced around the room. Joe was certain they would see the broken glass, they didn’t notice it.
"This is the last room," one officer said.
"I guess we scared him off. I don’t think anything is missing," answered the second.
"Let’s go make our report."
They left the room and in a few moments the lights went out and the museum was plunged into near darkness.
Joe smiled to himself as the dim moonlight filtered in the small windows of the room. He was safe, those dumb cops had passed right by him. He let out a small laugh and held his stolen scroll close. He came out of his place of hiding and stood up. He stretched and was about to move when he felt a powerful hand grasp the back of his neck.
The mighty hand pulled Joe around and, in the dim light the burglar’s eyes fell horror stricken on the face of an ancient, wrinkled and bandaged long dead mummy.
The face of royal guard Rahotep, dead these five thousand years, was the last image Joe saw in life.
A single scream echoed though the museum, then there was silence. It was the silence of the tomb.
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