1 Last Night at the Museum

Same old story, retired military working as a security guard in a museum. I was no Spec ops Ranger, wasn't a Navy Seal, no Special Forces on my resume.

Got shot a few times but my vest protected me so no lasting traumas, obviously I saw some action but nothing special compared to the guys that came back missing limbs or the ones that didn't make it back at all.

I decided to get out when my enlistment was up because I didn't want to take the chance the next bullet didn't hit my vest.

Three tours of 'React to Contact' AKA 'Walk around tell you get shot at and then shoot back' was more than enough for me.

Didn't start a family because I didn't want to put them through the military life having gone through it myself.

Having to move and change schools every two to three years when your dad gets his newest transfer kinda puts a damper on making friends, joining clubs or playing sports.

But now that I'm a civilian, I think I should start looking to make or join a family. My stepfather was amazing to me, and I didn't want to let him down by automatically deciding to avoid a girl with kids.

It was just a normal night doing my normal rounds, occasionally stopping to look at an interesting piece in a case or a new exhibit, you know the usual security guard walking around to help stay awake.

Of course, the idea that they need a security guard here put me on edge when I first started but I was mostly relaxed now.

I was naturally disappointed that no exhibit came to life to keep me company or the Dino bones never begged for me to throw toys for them. Never really thought this Museum had anything anyone would want to steal, well until tonight that is.

For just a moment, when I saw the shadowy figure sneaking through the room, I hoped it was Black Cat or Cat-woman that was visiting my museum tonight.

You can thank my comic book phase for this unrealistic thought. Unfortunately, there was no spandex, tight leather or cleavage in sight.

Just a figure in loose black clothes with a ski mask covering his head, oddly he had no tools in hand.

Looking around to make sure what exhibit I was in, I thought the only thing of interest in this room was some African masks, pottery and a strange Spear I noticed before because of the etchings of some heart shaped flower or fruit on it.

I heard the curators continuously argued over this specific piece.

Slowly backing out of the room so I could use my radio to let my fellow security guard know we had company without alerting the burglars with the chatter I knew would follow my revelation.

Bart at the front desk would mean well, but there was no way he could keep himself from asking for clarification with his loud voice alerting everyone within earshot of the radio.

In hindsight, I should probably just have turned the volume on my radio down, instead of losing sight of the thief.

Because after alerting the other guards, I returned to the room only to see three figures dressed in identical black outfits and one of them was staring directly at me having caught my movement back into the exhibit room.

"Stupid Gar" I cursed to myself.

Museums don't allow you to be armed unless there is something extremely valuable on display and even then, those types of exhibits come with special guards.

Slowly standing up I show both my hands. "I'm not armed guys, just doing my version of the 9 to 5."

As all three tensed up and the one closest to the case with the spear cursed. "Great a fucking rent a cop."

In a strained tone of voice, I replied "Hey, they don't rent me, my boss owns me for 32,000$ a year. At least that's what he tells me."

The one that spotted me first chuckles and says "I got him" then he starts walking towards me with an even pace.

I shuffled to my side, away from the wall to give myself room to move.

Still cursing myself for falling back into my military mindset when the Rent A- I mean the security handbook clearly states to report and vacate the area in a safe manor.

Hoping to end this guy quickly and then respond in a way that would make my handbook proud, I stood waiting for him to get in range not wanting to dash too far away from the door.

Seeing my movement, he nodded his head as if approving of my actions.

His height was around 5ft 7in and I guessed his weight to be about 150 pounds. Me being 6ft 1in and a solid 180 pounds after a pizza made me feel good, like I had the edge over him in strength and size.

As he entered arms reach, I moved my right leg back making it look like I wanted to keep my distance but planting it for quick movement I waited for his next step to start.

Without making it obvious I waited for his foot to almost hit the ground knowing his center of gravity was set on his back foot at that moment reducing his movement options.

I rushed forward with my left fist held low for a body shot, as soon as he saw this, he reacted by placing both hands on an intercept course slightly off balance.

His eyes looked surprised when, noticing his hands being at his waist, I shifted my body placing all my momentum to my right side in the form of an elbow that crashed across his chin with a loud crack.

Success, I think as the impact registers across my skeleton and brain.

Now I'm no Bruce Lee or even Jet Li but I took joy in my later life learning some martial arts and though I missed my golden years for training I still know enough to not feel like I need to avoid anyone while walking down the street.

So, you can imagine my surprise when this thin figure in a black mask just turns his head back in my direction with barely a shift in his torso.

Blinking at him in surprise I half smile and say "Oops!".

Quickly grabbing my left hand that was just dangling there still in his range I saw his eyes crinkle like he was smiling under his mask and heard him say "Oops indeed!".

Spinning and dragging my left arm over his shoulder, the rest of my body quickly followed, and I was suddenly staring at the ceiling as my body bounced off the cold hard museum floor.

Dazed for a moment my mind wondered why museums never had carpeted floors.

Hearing the thief with a potty mouth yell "I got it, let's go." the guy that tossed me started walking away.

On reflex I grabbed his leg as he moved past and tried standing up while sliding my grip to his heal in the hopes of giving the floor another body count for the day, but this guy didn't cooperate yet again.

He just shifted his weight and looked into my eyes as if to ask, "What now?"

Keeping his leg high enough to ensure his knee was locked, I was trying to also decide what to do now when I saw him bounce on his free leg and turning his waist towards me.

Knowing he was trying to kick me I shoved his leg away from me and leaned my head back to insure I was out of range of his foot.

Landing from his attempted jump kick I heard this guy say "I wanna bring this one with us, he has been trained sloppy, but he shows grit and imagination."

Before I could react, the guy was standing in front of me grabbing my uniform in his fist lifting me off the ground.

With strength that should have not been possible he tossed me towards his companions.

As I landed on my feet between the two thieves, I felt a slight pressure in my back and chest looking down my eyes widened when I saw the spear that started this whole mess was sticking out of my chest right where my heart would be.

Hearing the potty mouth thief say "Fuck, this is bad!"

All I could respond with was "Ya Think!!!" as blood spilled out of my mouth.

As my conscience was fading out, I heard a new voice say "The spear doesn't have an owner and it doesn't belong to this verse. There is no way to know where his soul will be sent for reincarnation or if it will even go through normal procedures."

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Got to say, I'm a bit nervous of how this will be received. Also hope its publishes right. Time will tell. And it told me I was dumb, posted in Novel instead of FanFic. Take 2