Hello readers, Pug here.

Some may recognize this story from the Novel site, but there are differences. I have recently hit a writing wall and decided to revisit my first attempt at writing to help me overcome that wall. Well, I posted the first 12 chapters of it and when I read it again, I decided to fix a few things. First off, at the beginning of my writing, I struggled between first-person and third-person POV and was just plain bad in other areas. So instead of a simple copy and paste approach, I decided to rewrite the whole thing and improve where I could.

If there is a Ch 14 then you don't have to worry about going back because everything has been reworked so enjoy.

Here is the original summary of the story.

A 36 year old Garfield Logan is a military veteran working a Museum security job. A robbery goes wrong and our story begins.

He finds himself in a different body and wouldn't you know it he doesn't just have to worry about a big purple nut chinned simp that wants to kill 50% of all living things to impress his crush, Death (Balance my A&&). But he also has to worry about an Anti Lifer whose look really can kill. Seriously Darkseid, take up a hobby, learn to paint with more than the blood of the innocent. Set up an adoption agency for abused space animals and retired Paradeamon's. Something, just leave my Earth alone.

I do hope you enjoy and I look forward to your comments. Pug out.

Last Night at the Museum

His name was Garfield Logan. He had the same old story, a retired Army sergeant, working as a security guard in a museum. He wasn't a Spec ops Ranger, wasn't a Navy Seal, no Special Forces on his resume, just a plain old ex-grunt.

He had scars from getting shot a few times but his vest protected him so no lasting traumas, obviously, he saw some action but nothing special compared to the guys that came back missing limbs or the ones who didn't make it back at all.

Garfield, or Gar to his friends, decided to get out when his enlistment was up because he didn't want to take the chance the next bullet didn't hit his vest.

Three tours of 'React to Contact' AKA 'Walk around until you get shot at, and then shoot back' was more than enough in his opinion.

He didn't start a family because he didn't want to put them through the military life having gone through it himself.

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

But now that he was a civilian, he decided he 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.] He often thought to himself.

The night started out like any other night. Occasionally stopping to look at an interesting piece in a case or new exhibit, you know, the normal security guard walking around to help him stay awake.

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

Gar was naturally disappointed that no exhibit came to life to keep him company or that no Dinosaur Bones ever begged for him to throw toys for them. He never really thought this Museum had anything anyone would want to steal, well until tonight that is.

For just a moment, when Gar saw the shadowy figure sneaking through the room, he hoped it was Black Cat or Cat-Woman that was visiting his museum tonight.

You can thank his 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 his hands.

Looking around to make sure what exhibit he was in, Gar thought the only thing of interest in this room was some African masks, pottery,and a strange spear he noticed before, because of the etchings of some heart-shaped fruit on its shaft.

Gar heard the curators continuously arguing over this specific piece. No one could place it with any definitive proof, so they took up the argument when they were bored.

Slowly backing out of the room so he could use his radio to let his fellow security guards know they had company, without alerting the burglars with the chatter Gar knew would follow his 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, Gar admitted he should probably just have turned the volume on his radio down, instead of losing sight of the thief.

Because after alerting the other guards, he returned to the room only to see three figures dressed in identical black outfits, and damn it all if one of them was staring directly at him, having caught his movement back into the exhibit room.

"Stupid Gar!" He cursed out loud

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

Slowly, Gar showed both his empty hands, having clipped his radio back to his belt. "I'm not armed guys, just doing my version of the 9 to 5."

The two that had not seen me yet tensed up and the one closest to the case with the spear cursed. "Great, a fucking rent-a-cop."

In an outraged tone of voice, Gar 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 Gar at an even pace.

Gar shuffled to his side, away from the wall to give himself room to move, but kept his eyes on the one approaching him.

[Damn stupid, overconfident, idiot, Gar! You know damn well the Rent-A-... I mean the security handbook clearly states to report, and then vacate the area in a safe manner.] Gar cursed to himself mentally.

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

Seeing Gar's movement, the masked figure nodded his head as if approving of his actions.

Gar guessed this guy's height was around 5ft 7in and his weight to be about 150 pounds. Being 6ft 1in and a solid 180 pounds after a pizza made him feel good like he had the edge over this guy in strength and size.

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

Without making it obvious Gar waited for the masked figure's foot to almost hit the ground, knowing his center of gravity was set on his back foot at that moment reducing his movement options for his lower body.

Gar dashed forward with his left fist held low for a body shot, as soon as the masked man saw this, he reacted by placing both hands on an intercept course, slightly off balance.

The burglar's eyes showed surprise when, Gar, noticing the burglar's hands went to waist level in order to block the incoming body shot. Knowing he fell for the feint, Gar then shifted his body, placing all his forward momentum to his right side, in the form of an elbow that crashed down and across the man's chin with a loud crack.

[Success!] Gar congratulated himself as the impact registers across his skeleton and brain. [Perfict connection!]

Now, Gar was no Bruce Lee or even Jet Li but he took joy in his later life learning some martial arts, and though he knew he missed his golden years for training, he still knew enough to not feel like he needed to avoid anyone while walking down the street.

So, you can imagine his surprise when this thin figure in a black mask just turned his head at the solid impact, and then slowly turned his head back in Gar's direction with barely a shift in his torso.

Blinking at him in surprise Gar half smiled and said "Oops!".

The burglar quickly grabbed Gar's left hand which was just dangling there, still in his range, Gar saw his eyes crinkle like he was smiling under his mask and heard him say "Oops indeed!".

The thief spun his body and drug Gar's arm over his shoulder, and then the rest of Gar's body soon followed. Gar was suddenly staring at the ceiling as his body bounced off the cold hard museum floor.

Dazed for a moment, Gar's mind wondered [Why do museums never have carpeted floors?]

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

On reflex, Gar grabbed the thief's leg as he moved past. Quickly, Gar stood up while sliding his grip to the figure's heel 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, looked at Gar who was still holding his right foot waste high, and looked into his eyes as if to ask, "What now?"

Gar, not thinking much past keeping the guy's leg high enough to ensure his knee was locked, was trying to also decide what to do now. Then he saw the thief start to bounce on his free leg and twist his waist towards Gar's direction.

Knowing he was trying to jump kick with his free leg, Gar shoved the leg he held away from himself and then leaned his head back to ensure he was out of range of the thief's kick.

The masked figure with both feet free now, landed from his attempted jump kick and looked intently at Gar. He then addressed the two men who had taken the spear from its case, "I wanna bring this one with us, he has been trained sloppy, but he shows grit and imagination."

Before Gar could react, the masked man was standing in front of him, moving unnaturally fast. He grabbed Garfield's uniform in his fist, lifting him off the ground, showing more unnatural abilities.

With strength that should have not been possible, he tossed Gar toward his two companions.

As Gar landed on his feet between the other two thieves, he felt a slight pressure at his back, and then his chest. Looking down, Gar's eyes widened when he saw the spear that started this whole mess sticking out of his chest right where his heart would be.

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

All Gar could think to respond with was "Ya Think!" as blood spilled out of his mouth.

As Gar's conscience was fading out, he heard a new voice (the third thief) 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." Then Gar saw nothing but darkness and felt nothing but silence.