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Anaya never expected to work a night shift, let alone as a museum guard. Usually, she was the one being protected— escorted, chauffeured, covered from danger. As her father said it…
“You will be taking over the company soon, you need to keep your appearance pleasant. And your image polished.”
And to be honest, it wasn’t like she hated being escorted around. But sometimes, she just wants to experience things herself, y’know?
That being said, this was a great opportunity! With her insomnia, she wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon. She consulted her father about this too, and he suggests that if she ended up boring herself to the death in one of those sleepless nights— she might as well just do something about it, rather than taking sleeping pills.
So yeah, being a night guard isn’t so hard, no?
She’d trained thoroughly: studied museum protocol, learned how to deal with robbers, and even picked up some martial arts. Her bag carried only the essentials— a flashlight, her beloved phone, and a few safety tools just in case. This would be easy. Just patrolling around in an empty museum.
A museum with… Dead guys, and dolls.
At least, that’s what she thought.
Her private driver took the scenic route as they coasted through the city. She had two hours before her shift began, and she passed the time watching the lights blur past the window. When they arrived, she stepped out with quiet confidence and walked inside.
The museum director, a lanky, cheerful man named Dr. Hearst, greeted her at the door.
“Oh my, what a wonderful night!” he beamed. “I’m thrilled to have you volunteering here. My daughter’s a loyal customer of your brand!”
“I’m flattered,” Anaya said with a proud grin. “Thanks for having me. Anything I should know before I start?”
Dr. Hearst waved his hand. “Not really, just your average night shift. Although…”
She nodded in a sign for him to continue.
“A lot of night guards tend to quit after three days. No idea why! The museum must be too big for them to handle,” he laughed a little too brightly.
Her brow arched. “How long has this been happening?”
“Oh, for about two years now. Very often at that, too. Truth to be told, I don’t understand it either!”
“Right,” she nodded. “Well, best I get started then.”
He handed her a set of keys with a wave. “Best of luck!”
...
After grabbing her uniform, she darted down the long underground stairwell to the changing room. One question though— why are the elevators not working? She spent like a good 5 minutes going down those stairs. She ran too! Still took 5 minutes. She changed quickly, then raced back up.
Ten minutes early. Perfect.
She paced the main hall until the clock struck the hour. Her heart thrummed with anticipation. She looked around. Took her first steps. Went left.
Something moved.
She stopped. A statue— life-sized, imposing— had shifted. She was sure it shifted. It wasn’t in that position when she walked past it. The crown (was that even a crown) on its head is a bit tilted. Her brow furrowed. Probably the air conditioning, she told herself.
She kept moving.
Then she heard a creak, and when she checked again, the statue was gone.
So it hadn’t just shifted, the thing hadn’t just wobbled. It had walked off.
Statues don’t do that. Do they?
She backtracked. No fingerprints on the glass. No marks on the rail. Nothing.
The glass and the railing were supposed to keep them in, right? How the fuck did it walk off then?
What is going on?
“How the fuck…” she muttered, forcing a breath.
Still, she was trained for weird. She pushed forward, searching. Hoping to find the missing statue, somewhere. That’s when she spotted a group of sharply dressed men, one in a black suit with a grayish face. Creepy. And they were carrying guns.
‘Just ask. Maybe they know something.’
“Excuse me!” she called, walking toward them. “Have you seen a statue? Long silver coat, some kind of silver headdress on his head?”
The men exchanged glances… then burst into laughter.
Goodness sake, it’s not even funny. She stared at them with a frown. She’ll definitely get fired with this, oh, her pride!
They stopped laughing. The man on front, who seems to be their leader, turns his head up.
He finally responded, cleared his throat, raising his chin. “Ya mean Ivan?”
Actually… yeah. That did look like Ivan the Terrible from the Russian history exhibit.
She nodded, “I believe so.”
“Yeah, he went that way,” he said, pointing down a corridor.
“Thanks. Can I get your name?” she asked, genuinely appreciative. The man had helped her after all, she’d like to give him something for his kindness. She reached to grab something— maybe some good amount of money from her wallet, when the guy said—
“Alphonse Capone, or just Al is fine, missy,” he tipped his hat.
She paused. “Oh! Sure it is,” She gave a polite laugh, assuming he was joking.
“Is my name funny?” he asked with a giggle, amused.
“Wh— that’s actually your name?”
“Yep. Tell ya what, it ain’t just me who’s walking around here. Everything comes alive at night. Welcome to the museum, new guard,” He clapped her on the shoulder.
Her blood ran cold.
“Oh… Oh, well, that’s— great? I mean, I don’t know, but—“
“Relax, boss. Me and the boys won’t hurt ya. Don’t know ‘bout Kahmunrah, though.”
That name caught her attention. “Who?”
“Kahmunrah,” he repeated.
“He’s the mummy. Turns human after sunset. Bad temper. Might kill ya if he feels like it.”
Anaya did prepare for things. But she’s certainly not prepared for this. Oh how she wished she had listened back in history class.
Anaya blinked. “Dude…” she mutters under her breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, I just… I’d love to meet him. Sounds like a great guy.”
Poor choice of words, she cursed herself. Way to say you want to meet the homicidal undead.
Al Capone grinned. “Sounds good! I’ll take ya to him.”
Great. She was definitely going to die tonight.
...
As they walked, Al Capone introduced her to the other exhibits. Some were surprisingly chill— like Amelia Earhart and Alexander the Great. Boy, she actually met Alexander the Great. Holy shit.
Others however, like Hitler and Stalin, just stared her down and walked away. Alright.
But her stride stayed confident. Even Al Capone remarked, “You’re one of the taller dames I’ve met.”
That fueled her ego. Damn right she was tall.
“I am, huh? Guessing I gotta thank my father’s genes.”
Anaya heard stories from Al Capone all the way to their destination. Dude’s a fun guy if he wasn’t being the infamous mob boss charade.
Finally, they reached the Egyptian exhibit.
“He’s in there,” Capone said. “Lemme get him.”
Anaya waited. When he returned, another man followed him— and holy hell. He was beautiful. Sculpted features, gorgeous eyes, gold-adorned robes. The kind of man you’d expect to emerge from myth.
“Anaya, meet— Kahmunrah. Boss, this here’s Anaya, the new guard.”
Without missing a beat, Anaya took Kahmunrah’s hand and kissed it, bowing her head. “Pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty. Allow me, I’m Anaya— the new night guard here.”
Kahmunrah blinked. Surprised. To be fair, back in his era, people would just bow or kneel to the Pharaoh, not kissing their hand. It was a disrespectful act to touch the Pharaoh without their permission. You could have your life get cut short for that. But as he read the books, it seemed like it is an act of respect now. Strange times.
“I am Kahmunrah. Great King of the great kings. Fifth Pharaoh of Egypt. It is… pleasing to meet you as well,” he said, the last part almost mumbled.
They stared at each other in silence, no one stopped them.
She smiled.
He didn’t.
The tension dragged until Al Capone awkwardly waved a hand. “Right! Uh, now that y’all met, I’ll take her to meet the rest. See ya, boss.”
Kahmunrah just nodded.
As they left the exhibit, Anaya raised a brow. “Why’d you interrupt? We were talking.”
“You weren’t talkin’. You were just starin’. It was gettin’ weird.”
She shrugged, “Well, lead the way to the exhibits then.”
“You’ve met all of ‘em.”
“Excuse me?”
Capone threw his hands in the air, “I ain’t stayin’ another goddamn minute with that tension! Gotta break it out.”
She rolled her eyes. “So… does Kahmunrah have a consort or something?”
The mobster blinked. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”
“No reason,” she grinned. “He’s a pretty thing, though.”
“Oh – ho! Well, good luck. Boss doesn’t fall for anyone easily. Don’t think he ever had, now come to think of it,” he grins. “Well, an advice from little ol’ me, gotta build some trust first. Real emotional connection. Takes time.”
“Relax,” she said, brushing him off. “I didn’t say I liked him. I just said he’s pretty.”
“My bad,” Capone muttered, still with a sly smirk.
The hours flew by. By 7 a.m., she’d toured all seven museum wings and met every exhibit. The fatigue hit hard, but her adrenaline kept her upright. She returned each figure to their place and gathered her things.
Outside, Dr. Hearst waved. “So? Keeping the job, or are you running for the hills like the others?”
She was this close to saying, Absolutely not, but then… Kahmunrah's face flashed through her mind.
She smiled.
“Yeah. I think I’ll stay.”
Dr. Hearst nearly collapsed from joy. “Oh, thank Christ. Finally.”
...
The next night, she arrived early— more prepared than ever. No more surprises. She headed straight to the Egyptian exhibit, where Kahmunrah was already awake. They exchanged words, tentative and brief. She wasn’t sure what they were building yet, but it felt like something worth returning for.
As he walked away to attend to his loyal crew, she watched him go.
She thinks, huh. I wouldn’t mind doing this every night.