"Iterum incipit."
The Master
"Don't forget the dinner, tonight!" A voice rung out in the often-lauded Egyptian themed portion of the museum, filled with replicas of pyramids, hieroglyphics, mummies, sarcophaguses, everything needed to bring ancient Egypt alive in the Bembridge Museum of History.
Her heels clanking against the polished floors, Jessica Clarke attempted to locate the curious curator that often likes hiding from her duties at the museum, typically when it came to dinners with associates, donors, the like.
Her hazel eyes reflected the lights beaming off the glass cases filled with excavated treasures as she attempted to locate the curator.
Last time she hid among the Huns, the time before, she hid in the storage, every time, the curator hid herself away at the mere mention of a dinner party.
While most bear the uncomfortable standing around and attempting to find topics for small talks, holding out for the food, the curious curator couldn't be bothered for the social aspects, having spent tedious amounts of time speaking with every known scholar, professor, name it, she wanted nothing to do with it, but of course, it was part of her duties as the curator.
Didn't stop her from trying to get out of them, her excuses have ranged from "simply forgetting the time" and "I overslept."
For Jessica, it's a miracle how she can come up with an excuse seemingly at the drop of a hat.
More, how she managed to keep her job if she had, one of the youngest curators on staff, shockingly brighter than some of the people who dedicated their entire lives to the job, and she's cleverer than a cat!
"Taylor, we have a donor that wants a word with you, if you could just— "Jessica sighed as she tried looking for Grace Taylor, always went by her surname, not too fond of using her first name unless there's a specific reason.
Standing in the middle of the exhibit, her arms crossed, Jessica attempted to think like the curator, and her mind instantly went to the only thing that made sense.
Sarcophaguses.
What better way of hiding than the last resting place for likes such as pharaohs?
"Taylor!" Jessica grew irritated as she started checking the closed replicas, opening them, looking for the curator, but she wasn't hiding among the replicated mummies.
Expectedly, the curator proved craftier than Jessica anticipated, and she ended up going by the newest addition to the exhibit, separated by glass and warning signs posted, inside, an unknown pharaoh that was found somewhere in a tomb outside Cairo recently.
In a bid to attract more visitors, Bembridge Museum did everything to ensure that the mummy was shown in its exhibit first, before it'll be released to the other museums.
It did more than enough to draw a crowd, it's been steadily enduring ten times the crowd it normally handles on a given day, all curious about the unknown pharaoh that not even historians could decipher his history.
The hieroglyphics on his elaborately large sarcophagus proved difficult for them to translate, leading some to broach the idea that this pharaoh's older than any mummy they've encountered before, a rare sight indeed.
Caused a bit of a stir among the community wanting to tear every bit of the hieroglyphics apart trying to figure out who this pharaoh was, it must've been someone of great importance, the sarcophagus lined with gold, precious jewels, the tomb filled with jars of fermented fruits and meats.
Surprisingly, they never found the canopic jars among them, curious considering this was an important pharaoh, that it drove them to investigate the mummy more.
Carbon dated roughly 2500 BCE, it's a sight to behold.
The discrepancies caused enough stir there's a bidding war between museums wanting the pharaoh for their exhibit so they may attempt studying it themselves, the highest bid thus far's nearly €4,200,000 and still rising!
Certainly, going for a record, but for Jessica, she couldn't wait for the unknown pharaoh to leave the museum.
Never liked the look of it when they were studying it, something about it gave her the creeps, and the seemingly preserved skin that they were able to see visibly by gently unreeling a piece of the wrap from the pharaoh didn't help.
Looked leathery, too preserved for an over four-thousand-year-old mummy for her taste, that she hoped that it was a faked mummy or even a later incarnation, but to her displeasure, it wasn't so.
During the preliminary scanning, there was something unusual about the mummy's body, too narrow to be humanly possible, signs of suffering from polymelia, but somehow, they dated the mummy as someone in his fifties when he died.
It led to people getting the impression that the mummy's a fake, a hoax, and it wasn't helping them trying to solve the mystery, as they couldn't get into contact with the teams that found the tomb.
Thankfully, Taylor wouldn't go that far trying to hide from the dinners, so Jessica hurried away from the exhibit, continuing her search until she finally concluded that the curator wasn't in the Egyptian area as she thought.
Having checked everywhere else, Jessica made a deduction, before going to the most unlikely place the curator could've hid: her office, the one place Jessica didn't think to check because she hid in it before.
As she moved through the museum, Jessica passed the other exhibits towards the administration area of the museum, going through the marked two-doors with warnings against patrons from going through them in various languages.
The motion lights came on in the hallway as Jessica walked through, her heels muffled against the carpeted hallway, as she came to a stop in front of the closed door with Taylor's name on it.
The blinds in the window were drawn and closed, so it's a good chance that Jessica's right in her deductions that the elusive curator reused a hiding spot.
Not like she'd be that desperate to fall out of her office window to escape a dinner.
Rapping at the door, Jessica called out to Taylor, trying to gain her attention.
Sighing, Jessica knew that Taylor wouldn't outright answer her, so she dug into her skirt pocket, bringing out a set of keys, using one, she gained access to Taylor's office.
It's dark and when she flipped the switch, Jessica's hazel eyes fell to something sitting at the desk the bottom of the soles poking out from under a stitched coat covering majority of the body.
Faintly, there's a smell of bourbon, Taylor had been drinking, wanting nothing more to hide from the dinner, as Jessica walked around the desk, her arms crossed.
"And here I thought you'd be desperate enough to hide in the new exhibit!" Jessica chided Taylor, whom pretended to not hear her from under her stitched coat.
Leaning forward, Jessica didn't hear any snores coming from Taylor, so she wasn't asleep, and wasn't pretending to be sleeping, either.
She finally heard a muffled, "There's a difference between hiding among fake mummies and real mummies, Ms. Clarke."
Pulling off her coat, revealing her flush face to Jessica, her emerald eyes glistening underneath the light in her office, Taylor looks up at Jessica who raised her fine brow at the elusive curator.
"What does it matter if I don't go?" Taylor shifts in her spot, pulling off her coat completely, holding it in her lap as her long ruby hair flowed over her uniform as she protests the need for her going out of her way to visit expensive restaurants and meeting every person under the sun, any time there's a substantial donation.
Shaking her head, Jessica reminds her, "We have a donor insistent meeting you; you know how Herbert gets when you're not communicating with our donors."
Emphasizing that Taylor needed to come to dinner, Jessica sees the exasperated look on Taylor's face as she reached into her desk, bringing out a bottle of aged bourbon.
"Why does he want to talk to me?" Taylor inquired why this donor wanted her, not Herbert, as she poured herself a glass of bourbon, she offered to pour a glass for Jessica, but she declined.
Shrugging her stout shoulders, Jessica responds that she doesn't know, only that the donor wanted to speak with Taylor, and there's no way for Jessica to talk him out of it.
And they don't want Herbert getting wind of it, either.
Taking a swig of bourbon, Taylor sighs as her internal thoughts went at it, discussing the dinner.
The head of the museum's insistent on his curators going to these dinners, trying to buy goodwill to keep the museum going, and Taylor promised good o' mum she wouldn't cause anymore problems.
Sighing, Taylor asks, "What's it called?"
Jessica couldn't recall it exactly, summing it as, "The French restaurant without the prices."
Herbert always liked putting his best foot out, going for expensive restaurants in hopes of improving their chances in receiving donations, grants, anything to keep the museum going.
"You'd think the exhibit's enough to cover the costs, if he waits long enough, he can get more when we send it out," Taylor pointed out as she looked down to her half-drunk glass of bourbon.
If Herbert's concerned about the museum's finances, all he needed was patience, the newest discovery's already gotten London Museum and others ready to sell their firstborns at the chance showing the exhibit next.
A miracle Bembridge Museum got the chance first, honestly.
They'd just managed to sellout the tickets, hundreds of people in line for a full week, with the rest of the museum's exhibit open to the public until they found someone who had the funds for a full exhibit with all the items that it took them months to catalogue, and that included the mummy.
Taylor finished off her bourbon as she put the empty glass on her desk. Leaning back in her chair, she rubs her forehead as she mutters, "I should be thankful Herbert even let me take a short break during work."
Jessica nods in agreement, agreeing with Taylor as they both knew that Herbert was relentless when it came to keeping the museum running, though they couldn't deny that his dedication is admirable, especially when it comes to business matters.
"He really likes making his name known, huh?" Taylor said with a wry smile as she stood from her seat.
Shrugging once more, Jessica replies, "Yep, now, are you going to the dinner?"
Throwing the coat over herself, her arms snaked through the armholes, Taylor sighs, "If I must. Why would a donor want to talk to me, anyway?"
Usually, donors talk to Herbert, not a curator, even then, if they did, it'd be asking where Herbert was among the guests.
"That I don't know, come on, it starts in thirty minutes," Jessica motioned with her hand as she encouraged Taylor to follow her.
Tugging on her stitched coat, pulling her ruby hair out from under it, allowing it to flow over her back, strands of blond shimmered in the lights as they turned on.
Herbert didn't want them spending so much money if they can help it and enforced sensors placed all over the museum, only turning on if there's movement the moment it's sundown, not wanting to waste electricity.
The only areas that stayed lit in the night's the lobby and bathrooms per regulatory restrictions, otherwise every exhibit's in the dark until morning when the natural light did its job.
After passing through several corridors, Jessica leads Taylor to the entrance of the Egyptian exhibition hall, as they enter, they were faced with an array of sculptures representing different types of Egyptology.
Most of the sculptures were from ancient civilizations; some represented Egyptian kings, or the royal families, while a few contained Egyptian deities, including a statue of Seti I and the Great Pyramids of Giza.
Walking through, Jessica and Taylor passed the new exhibit, which something caught their eyes, causing them to stop.
Turning their heads, they noticed the lid on the sarcophagus ajar, halfway off the sarcophagus.
It shocked the women, because the lid weighed enough it took a team to even unseal it.
There's no way some idiot could've gone through the glass door, mucked about with the sarcophagus with even a crowbar.
"That's impossible!" Jessica shook her head, "everything was where it should be when I came through, moments ago!"
Sure, it wasn't the trick of their eyes, Jessica
"He should've been patrolling; didn't you see him?" Taylor turns towards Jessica, asking if she saw Owen, the security guard posted tonight, and admittedly, Jessica said she didn't, but she thought she missed him while looking for her.
Confused, the women weighed their choices before Jessica says she's leaving to find Owen, while Taylor stayed near the sarcophagus in case Owen turned up.
Watching Jessica hurry away, Taylor stared at the sarcophagus with its lid ajar, finding it impossible that anyone could've moved it on their own, and without tripping the alarms in the exhibit.
No one played tricks like this at their museum, Herbert would burst a blood vessel in his eye if he heard any of them doing something like this, and there'd been concerns someone might've wanted the mummy for themselves.
It's too outrageous that someone would conceive such an idea to steal a mummy from under their noses.
Even London Museum wouldn't go that far!
Though it seemed ludicrous, a mysterious mummy that historians and researchers couldn't make heads or tails of's an interesting quarry for someone with insidious intentions.
Looking up at the wall, done up to replicate the tomb the mummy was found in, Taylor sees the hieroglyphics that bedeviled scores of historians.
She once made a guess what one line of symbols meant.
"He who walks on six."
Never knew what it meant, didn't get to translate anything else, and even then, the historians she partially worked with weren't even sure if that's what the hieroglyphics meant.
The illustrations showed unusual characteristics such as what appeared to be the pharaoh with four arms, given that they believe the mummy suffered from polymelia, it further led credence that this was an unusual pharaoh who led his people for sometime until his untimely death, and well, it's going to become an arms race the moment the next museum gets their hands on the mummy.
Looking around, seeing the exhibits, Taylor's curious emerald eyes glimpsed at statues of the Egyptian gods, the children loved going to them, having been enchanted by the mythology they learnt in school.
As she waited for Jessica and Owen, Taylor began hearing unusual noises, chittering noises.
She jumped when she sees the next area suddenly lighting up, but no one there.
Slowly, Taylor attempts to move back towards the administration area, attempting to keep the sensors from turning off the lights as she moves.
Ahead, her emerald eyes see the sensors turning off in the next area after a few minutes of non-movement.
She jumped when the sensors triggered, again, no one in the area, but they suddenly turned off instantly, failing to follow the timers placed on them.
Clattering as they dropped to the ground, breaking apart as they contacted the hard ground, it's become permanently dark in the area ahead.
Instinctively, Taylor fled, going through an adjacent area that led her through the history of the world.
Her heels clanking against the ground, Taylor fled, the lights above turning on as she triggers the sensors on the ceiling, but as she briefly looked back, the areas she just ran through turned dark, someone or something tearing out the sensors from their screwed in mounts.
In her attempts, Taylor slipped on the ground, missing the caution sign placed out, warning of the slippery ground.
Falling on the ground, a groan, Taylor forced herself up, but as she corrected herself, she sharply turned around to see the area behind her's completely dark.
There's a chittering noise, something crawling, it couldn't come through the hallway because of the sensors, and Taylor kept them on as she crawled backwards, her frightened emerald eyes focused on the darkness.
A thud, Taylor hears something large drop to the ground, moving towards her, multiple footsteps.
Briefly, she saw eyes looking at her, tiny, black, but that wasn't all, sharp black teeth and a gaping mouth, a thin black tongue dripping with ruby red.
Adrenaline pumping through her, Taylor wanted nothing more than getting away from it as she tried to moved away from it while keeping her eyes focused on it as it slowly crept towards her.
Something's blocking her movement from behind, even though nothing should've been left in the hallway, but Taylor's unable to look away from the unknown creature targeting her.
Sliding up against it, with her hand Taylor felt it, there's a door handle, whatever door she's leaning against's unlocked.
Unable to look back, reeking of desperation, Taylor twisted the door handle, feeling the door opening behind her, but it opened too quickly, and she fell backwards inside a room.
Looking up, it looked like she was in a cathedral, without the paintings, the statues, and as she's stunned, she heard other footsteps coming towards her, a man standing over her.
About her age, maybe a little older than twenty-five, chestnut hair that curled at the ends, stopped above his shoulders, a curious look in those chestnut eyes as he helped her up from the ground.
Seeing it clearly, Taylor sees an unusual object in the middle of the room, filled with knobs, keypads, elegant monitors above.
This was not any part of the Bembridge Museum, when she turned her head, she sees the man looking back at her, wearing an outfit that wouldn't look out of place from a theatre.
"Wha—who are you?" Taylor asks him as she attempted to understand her situation.
She heard back, "I'm the Doctor."