The museum was silent Just the ever present cat statues gazing down. I never liked them. Three giants 14 feet high. Ancient temple guardians of smooth black basalt. Carved millennia ago.
I didn't like them at all. Their smug butter wouldn't melt faces were hiding something. I was sure of that.
A museum at midnight is a lonely creepy place. Only the eyes of dead things can see you. The living world is out there behind glass windows. You are the exhibit.
I had a job to do. It wasn't pleasant. Two security guards and a curator had gone missing I was investigating. On my midnight prowl through the cases.
I stared up at the chiselled cat eyes. Sneaky beggars cats. They never finish off their pray cleanly. Those furry serial killers. They like a game first.
It took me a minute to notice. There were only two cats tonight. Not three.
There was a swish like a huge tail had just brushed the floor. A soft voice from the darkness whispered. Run!