Curse of the Phoenix

Chapter 1 - An Unfortunate Encounter

Matthew Myers's night started off pretty normal before his head almost split open.

The boy stepped out of a bookstore as snow brushed his short curly hair. His boots crunched the snow under him, and he zipped up his snowflake-tainted jacket. In his hands was a long-awaited crime fiction novel. With a grin, he made a little dance to celebrate his accomplishment.

After that, he walked away from the front of the bookstore, humming a song. A few cars passed by as dim lampposts lit the empty sidewalk. He covered the book with his hands to protect it from the snowfall.

Above him, the stars glimmered in the black sky. There weren't many. Matt only counted four. "I wonder how you're doing," he said to the stars.

Some time later, he came across a giant museum known for its collection of ancient artifacts. In the day, the museum would be crowded with people. But now, its lights were off and its porch was empty. "I wonder what the Collapse was like back then. Must've been rough." 

He was about to continue walking when-

At that moment a piercing sound spread throughout the air from the museum. It was subtle, very subtle, maybe even too subtle. Was it glass breaking? Most people wouldn't hear it over their boots on snow. But Matt hadn't started walking yet. 

His head snapped back to the museum. The door was closed and probably locked, the front windows were fine and the porch was empty. It couldn't be a break-in, could it? The museum only housed ancient artifacts, not priceless treasures.

Matt moved closer while carefully trying to lessen the sound of his boots. He crouched behind a lamppost, even though he knew it was probably conspicuous. His breathing slowed down while his heartbeat quickened. Nothing on the front windows, must be somewhere in the back.

He was about to check when he scolded himself. What is he doing? Is he really going to do this? Shouldn't he call the police? He put his hand in his pocket and rummaged through its insides. Ah, of course. His phone wasn't there.

He sighed. No one was behind him, or anywhere near him. He wasn't even sure if it was a break-in. It could be a raccoon or something. Yeah, it was probably a raccoon. 

He slapped his forehead. "Raccoon? Really? Is that the best excuse you've got?" he said to himself.

Matt steeled his resolve and placed his book on the ground, but he turned back to his novel repeatedly before sighing and heading to the museum. 

"There it is." In the back, was a shattered window. Glass shards were inside and whatever broke it didn't completely shatter the window. "Why'd I have to leave my phone behind?!"

The protagonists in his crime fiction novels wouldn't think twice when seeing a break-in like this. But he's not a detective, and he's not even sure if he could beat a burglar. What if they were a bodybuilder? The person would no doubt pummel him.

The room was empty. It trickled with snow from the snowfall, and the hallway outside it was also empty. But there were small traces of snow on the floor leading into the museum. He wiped the snow off his boots and climbed inside.

The room he climbed in was dark. But the moonlight illuminated some mops, brooms, and other cleaning supplies. If only he could make a concoction that would make people fall asleep. His spy novels never told him how to do it, though.

The leftover snow muffled his steps on the marble floor as he entered the dark hallway. He slowly passed the ancient statues displayed on his sides, while feeling as if they were watching him and judging his actions. "I know, I know. This has to be my worst idea yet."

He exited the hallway into a large, rectangular room. It was dim, but moonlight shone from the roof window, providing little light. There were also four giant, Greek-style pillars on each corner, artifacts on each side of the room, and... Suddenly he froze. In the center was an empty, shattered glass display.