Chapter 1: A disturbance.
The silence of the museum was broken only by the light tapping of
a shoe as a man paced around, the beam of his torch light
glancing off dinosaur bones, army replicas and stuffed animals
leering at him. The man's name glinted on the silver badge pinned
to his chest, showing he was called 'Frank Beech'. He was a night
watchman for a museum in a lonely little town. He had recently
been released from prison and had taken this job just to get
enough money to buy his food.
As he turned the corner his torchlight briefly illuminated his
dark shoulder-length matted hair and sharp face. Then the
torchlight was back to shining at the various exhibits, jumping
slightly as Frank moved. He completed a lap around the museum
when his torch suddenly went out. There was nothing strange about
that, torch batteries ran down all the time, he pulled a spare
out of his pocket and quickly switched batteries. It was as he
was fumbling with the batteries that he happened to glance
upwards. He noticed that at the end of the long corridor he was
in, with old army gear covering the sides, that there seemed to
be a faint white light. However when his torch came back on,
there was nothing at the end of the corridor.
He made his way cautiously towards the end of the corridor, his
hand moving towards the walkie-talkie strapped to his belt. He
reached the corridor and shined his torch around. There was
nothing here apart from a bathroom and a fire extinguisher stuck
to the wall. He was turning around when he heard a dripping
sound. Turning back to the bathroom he saw that one of taps at
the opposite end of the bathroom was on and water was dripping
into the basin below it. He walked forwards on impulse grabbed
the tap and quickly turned it off. He looked up into the mirror
above it slowly, not quite knowing why. Behind him was a faint
white light growing bigger. He spun round quickly. There was
nobody else in the room apart from him. He shone his torch around
the rest of the bathroom but everything seemed normal.
It was as he was just about to leave the bathroom when he heard
it. The dripping had started again. He froze in the doorway and
very slowly turned to shine his torch back towards the tap at the
opposite end of the bathroom. It wasn't dripping yet the sound
continued. He hurried back into the bathroom and shone his torch
around at the other taps, the light dancing off the marbled
tiles. None of them were on. It was at that point that he
realised the dripping sounds weren't coming from one place in the
bathroom, if was coming from everywhere. Even the walls seemed to
be making the sound. He ran out of the bathroom. It was then when
he heard another sound, one that rooted him to the floor.
Footsteps. He turned very slowly to look down a corridor to his
right, which lead to a large storeroom and fire exit. There was a
white light at the end of the corridor gradually getting larger.
The footsteps were eminating from the light and he thought he
could hear something whispering his name, just on the edge of his
Frank ran forwards down the corridor facing him. He tore round
several corners, smashing into a suit of armor in his haste.
Parts of the medival armor rained down on him as he ran towards
the main doors. He grabbed the handle and tried opening it, but
it was locked. He pounded on the door trying to open it but it
wouldn't budge. Usually the nightwatch man would have a key with
him, but Frank usually left by a side door, so he only kept that
key with him. He froze as he heard footsteps behind him again.
The hand holding the torch shaking, he turned around and shone
his torch up at the light shining from the stairs.
In the middle of the light there was a figure. Clothed in rags,
it was soaked in water. It was running off the figures hair and
clothes and dripping onto the floor. There was a cut on the
figures head, the red of the blood the only thing adding colour
to the whole body. The figure's eyes were open but they were
milky white. Whoever the figure was, they were clearly dead. Its
face was pale and it's hair lank and dishevled. Frank backed up
to the door.
"Frank…" Whispered the figure. The voice had eminated from the
figure's direction but its mouth hadn't moved. "No!" screamed
Frank, the terror plain in his voice. The figure began to descend
the steps, eerily sliding from one step to another. "Why Frank…?"
Came the voice. Frank turned, pounding the door until his fists
were cut, leaving a blood stain on the reinforced glass of the
door. All the time the figure was getting closer. "You're dead,
you crazy bitch! You're dead!" Screamed Frank, blood flowing from
his cut knuckles. The figure was now close to Frank. "Frank…" It
whispered again. He dropped the torch, it's glass shattered as it
hit the floor, it's light going out instantly. Frank Beech's
petrified scream was suddenly cut short.