Songs of the Wicked

Chapter Three

     The steps unfurled in front of me, appearing in the darkness like a never ending climb. My feet fell in a perfect line, one in front of the other in the one place that the sensors didn't reach. Dead center on the stairs. It was the place I'd spent hours watching the security guards climb the steps carefully, making sure that they didn't set the alarms off with their steps. I took my time making it to the second floor. There was no security at the landing, leaving it dark and deserted. I took a giant step over the sensor on the last step into the entryway, my foot tapping softly on the tile. There was nowhere for me to go other than to the left, so I shifted my bag slightly and picked my steps through the hallway carefully. I'd seen enough security guards walking through the halls to know where exactly I needed to step to be clear of any alarms. Drawings and prints spilled out on the walls around me. I'd spent hours pouring over every drawing in the hallway until I knew the hall by memory, both during visiting hours and after. It didn't take long to exit out of that room and into the next short hallway between galleries. 

     Photographs filled the walls around me in the next gallery. The ceiling was lower here than the last gallery, the white walls bouncing the little light that made it through to this room back at me. There was nothing in this room that ever caught my attention, even when I came to visit during the day. I skirted around the center display and out of the gallery without a second thought. There was only a short hallway to cross until I reached the gallery that I was looking for. I paused at the mouth of the photo gallery, glancing up and down the hallway. At the far end of the hallway the darkness seemed to stir slightly. I froze, squinting my eyes against the darkness, trying to make out what the movement could be coming from. It took a few moments for the figure to materialize out of the darkness and into a form that I could actually make out and recognize. The figure of a man appeared. Out of the darkness, a single shaft of light illuminated the ground in front of him. The guard couldn't se me and as long as I stayed out of his line of light, I would remain invisible. I stood there, still as possible, barely breathing to stay hidden. His feet shuffled against the tile as he walked down the center of the hallway. I waited, trying not to tap my foot with impatience. My fingers fidgeted with the strap on the duffle, puffing out my cheeks. It felt like forever for the guard to pass by me and I waited for him to turn into the another gallery. The only thing reminding me of his presence was the distance gangling of the keys. Other keys could be heard wondering around the museum in the distance as an ever-present reminder of the guards walking around the museum. I glanced up and down the hallway once more before scurrying across the hallway into one of the biggest galleries on this floor. 

     My boots whispered against the tile. One foot in front of the other carefully, making sure my feet were placed in just the right place to avoid the invisible grid laid out on the floor. The sensors were more complex along the floor in here, making it harder to avoid. I pulled my gloves on slowly, making sure the last bit of skin was covered. Skirting around the small pools of lights cast on the ground from security signs and lights, I made my way further into the gallery. I had to be careful to stay cloaked in complete darkness. My body floated on whips of shadows, lighter than air; but I could still run into things or trip alarms, so I needed to take extra care. The duffle rested against my lower back, waiting to be filled. Art spilled out on the walls next to me. I admired the art I'd seen many times, both during the day and a night. It was pretty risky running this heist durning the morning, but it was a Sunday and the museum wouldn't be open for a few more hours. 

     I walked further into the gallery, looking at the walls to find something I could take that wasn't too big but also valuable. Every three steps, I had to lift my leg slightly higher to avoid the invisible sensor hovering parallel to the ground. My mind was clear as I wandered down the hallway, not landing on any one thought for very long. The art spilled out around me and I allowed my eyes to slide over the art easily. My fingers wrapped around the twine in the front pocket of my duffle and wound it around my hand. On the end of the twine were small weights that would act as counterweights to trick the sensors. I found a wall where all the art seemed small enough to fit into my bag. Shimming the twine between the clips that held the art to the wall took longer than I'd have hoped. Once the twine was under the pins, I held the weight in one hand and the frame in the other. I lowered the weight carefully, lining up the time when I released the pins on the painting to when I dropped the weight. The frame dropped into my hand, holding my breathe to see if any alarm would go off. A few seconds of silence passed before I slid the painting into my bag carefully. I looked around quickly over my shoulders before side-stepping to the next painting and starting the process again. 

     Time seemed to stand still as I made my way down one end of the wall. There was no light from outside to show what time it was outside. After about four paintings, I paused, flipping my wrist over and looking my watch. I had just enough time to get one other painting before I needed to get out of the building. Twine wrapped around my fingers as I held the frame in my free hand. I was about to start the process of switching the painting wire with the twine when there was a dull thud that made its way through the walls and up the stairs to me. The paintings on wires shifted slightly from whatever it was that made the sound. I paused, glancing over my shoulder. What could have possibly made that noise? And be powerful enough to shake the museum. The silence stretched around me for a long moment, long enough for me to assume that I'd been hearing things. I was just about to turn back around when another boom echoed around the museum, closer this time and much louder. The building seemed to lurch slightly, almost knocking me off my feet. I shoved the twine back into bag, turning from the painting completely. The heels of my shoes thunked against the tile as I ran from the gallery and back out into the hallway, the sound covered by the new, continuous booms from outside. I took the stairs down two at a time, skirting around the landing and down to the first floor. My back pressed against the wall, shifting carefully to the mouth of the hall. Dozens of guards were descending on the Great Hall, surrounding the doors. 

     Glass exploded in, the doors and walls shattered in like confetti. A huge explosion tore through the front of the museum, rocking the entire foundation and sending debris in every direction. I hid behind the wall to shield myself from the stone rocketing in my direction. I had no idea what could possibly be happening but I needed to get as far away from the MET as I could. Panic rose in my throat and I closed my eyes against the world. The palms of my hands pressed into the wall. I tried to think of a location but my mind couldn't decide on a location. Explosions seemed to be happening every few seconds. I swallowed hard, trying to force the darkness to close in around me. Locations around the city flashed through my mind as the vibrations started at my feet and worked its way up. 

     Hard cement collided with the bottoms of my feet and I stumbled back trying to catch myself. I opened my eyes but there was nothing for me to see in the darkness of the room that I had landed in. My fingers collided with wooden handles and knocked them to the floor with a loud clatter. Walls met my back and stopped my movement. I blinked a few times, bracing myself against the wall and looked around. Brooms and mops lay overturned on the floor around me where I'd knocked them over. It looked like I had landed in a broom closet but where? There had to be thousands of those around the city. I pushed myself off the wall and toward the door on the other side. I hesitated for a moment before decided that I needed to figure out where I was. The door popped open easily and I peered through the thin crack. It took a second for the location to click in my mind. The gold walls and the blue ceiling. 

     Grand Central Station. This wasn't much closer to my house but at least it was away from the museum. I shifted the bag over my shoulder and stepped out of the closet. I looked around me to see if anyone else had seen me come out of the closet. Shockingly, there was no one else around me. At this time, Grand Central should be nearly impenetrable with people. I walked toward the grand doors at the front of the station, finding more people gathered in the center of the station. Everyone was looking up, but I wasn't sure what it was that they were looking at. I blended into the crowd easily and looked up, trying to figure out what everyone was looking at. Massive explosion where cascading around the station. It seems that whatever was happening near the museum was happening here too. My fingers wrapped around the strap of my bag, the panic raising in the back of my throat again. Before I could decide what I should do next, the ceiling above us cracked and fell in. A dark figure followed the ceiling, sending everyone scrambling out of the way. I scurried back, mostly being pushed from the movement of the crowd. The thing that landed in the center of the station didn't look human. It didn't even look like any animal I'd ever seen. The air turned deafening as screams filled the station as the crowd broke out into a terrified riot. My eyes widened and the scream stuck in my throat. I didn't have anytime to make any sound of move out of the station before I was being pushed around from the crowd. I was jostled from one side to the other, slamming into terrified people as they tried to flee the dead creature. My feet got caught under me and the next jostle send me tumbling to the ground as the stampede made their way toward every exit.