Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Don't sue please.
Author's note: This is a Henry and Maggie story; proceed at your own risk. This story takes place approximately two years from the current time line so it would be the beginning of their senior year.
The Curse of the Golden Jaguar
By
Rogue Amazon Boo
The museum was quiet at night in the way of old tombs and cemeteries. Not a normal quiet, but a stillness that was eerie and chilly. Old ghosts roamed, revenants carried across oceans in artifacts that were all too often exhumed from graves. The night suited the figure in black.
Silent as a whisper, the cloaked figure glided across the museum floor, avoiding the electronic security devices. The apparition was a ghost, a shade from the underworld both solid and ethereal. It had a destination in mind.
The velvet draped display case it sought was in the center of the room surrounded by pressurized alarm pads and infrared beams. The case itself had a pressure pad that would instantly incase the artifact in steel and drop it into a vault below. It was one of the most sophisticated security systems in the world.
The wraith seemed to ghost through it all and vanish into mist. When it was gone the display case was empty. The artifact was gone. The silence of the night became choked with the inaudible moans of the dead lamenting the beginning of the end of the world.