The Terror in the Museum

Part 1

[Author's note: this is a story about Doctor Who. It concerns a futuristic Doctor, one that isn't determined exactly, two museum guards named Keltie and Ozzy, and a load of nasty creatures that will give the Doctor and his temporary companions a hard time for the night. I hope you enjoy!]

[Oh: one more side note. This takes place somewhere in the fairly near future: somewhere in the late 2020's or early 2030's, I'm thinking, and in London. Sorry if some language is a bit off: I'm American and don't know all the British saying and such. Okay, anyway, hope you likee!]

Keltie Samantha Breylin was a twenty-two-year-old from London, England; fierce with feminine features and a mischievous glint to her green eyes. She’d lived a normal life, and never expected much to ever happen: she made it through school, then continued on to get a temporary job as a museum tour guide at the Natural History Museum in London. A flat on the outskirts of the city was her home, a lively yet small living space, quaint in its belongings. It was composed of a little kitchen, a sitting-room, and her bedroom. It was not fancy, it was not rich, but it was home.

She was average. She appreciated the little things in life, and lived for the moment. She loved her job, though at the same time she wanted to be doing bigger and better things. She was simple in her doings; underneath her plainness there was an independent and fiery girl who wanted the best for herself, contained and treated slightly with her casual and friendly outer-self. This other being inside of her was not even known by her: never had she felt the need to have a temper. So she was average and plain, showing no note of change.

And her story starts on an average note, as well. It was a cold December evening in London, nearly Christmas, and the ground was frozen and snow-covered. Light grey clouds obscured the entire blueness of sky, giving way only to a bit of white light streaming down from the sun. The streets were full of people bustling about as usual, finishing last Christmas shopping errands, and she was one of the many people on the streets as she made her way to work.

Keltie’s day went as planned: she did tours until twelve, and then had her break for lunch. She came back at one and then worked at the front desk, handing out fliers and giving information to the tourists and visitors. Afterwards, she went and got a little dinner and tea, and came back to the museum, because Mondays were her late-shift days- she had to stay in the museum until around 2 or 3 in the morning and check for anyone still in there, then make sure nobody stole anything basically, until the other night-staff arrived and relieved her until morning. She hated her night shift, especially so close to Christmas: but she had off starting on Wednesday, the day before Christmas Eve.

Just outside the doors of the museum, she paused, her hands on the glass. There was someone in the reflection on the door: someone standing behind her, and they were looking quite intently at her, if a reflection could show so much. She spun around, tea in hand, and her eyes darted around, searching for whatever had watched her. Nobody was to be seen watching her anymore: a few people passed on bikes and more walked, but nobody was watching her. She sighed. “You’re superstitious tonight,” she muttered to herself as she pushed open the door.

“There you are,” said Kendra, the worker who was locking up. “I thought you weren’t going to show up.”

“I’m only two minutes late,” retorted Keltie as she tossed her bag down onto the the ground. It skidded across the marble and slid to a stop near the wall. She sighed and then sat down on the great staircase in the middle.

"You got the keys and everything?”

“Yeah, Kendra. You can go.”

"‘Kay. Martha’s here tonight, just so you know- she’s cleaning some dirty glass in the Wildlife Photographer section.”