#FridayFlash – Friday the Thirteenth

Thanks for letting me know you don’t want emails about the impending launch of Black Dog & Other Gothic Tales! You won’t hear any more about it. So expect another email from me, containing book recommendations and free stories, in January!

Speaking of free stories, enjoy this one!

Friday the Thirteenth

The full moon threw pale light through the windows of the museum, giant panels of silver stretching across the polished wood floors. Somewhere in the depths of the building, a door banged in the late night breeze. Jackie Tyson, night watchman at the museum for thirty four years, settled in his chair and turned on the TV. Management had offered to upgrade his battered old set for a new flatscreen model but Jackie was a man of habit. That’s why he ignored the breeze and the banging door – nothing but an ill wind would do that on tonight of all nights.

The Egyptian Rooms lay down the corridor, just beyond Ancient Rome and before the Assyrian Empire. A growl rolled around the main gallery, setting the glass of the exhibition cases rattling. The lid of the sarcophagus nearest the door slid open, landing with a crash on the floor. Fingers appeared, followed by a hand, and an arm – a bandaged appendage turned dark brown with time. The inhabitant of the stone coffin hauled itself upright, and clambered free. She tottered on uncertain legs, shaking free 95 years of stasis.

Another growl erupted in the gallery, this time near the fire exit. The mummy wobbled across the floor, her bandaged feet sliding on the wooden boards. Seeing the full moon through the window, she gingerly moved her head backward on her stiff neck to unleash a howl from the depths of her dessicated chest.

In his security office, Jackie glanced at the door, his fingers wrapped around the arms of his chair.

Back in the Egyptian Rooms, ancient fingers worked at the primitive locks that kept the cases secure, and hands reached inside to help their occupants. Rattling coughs sounded in the room, as lungs were emptied of dust. Dried up joints snapped and popped, and feet shuffled towards the door.

The door to the security office swung open. Jackie peered into the gloom, seeing seven figures in the corridor. He beckoned them into the room, and they jostled for position in the folding chairs he’d laid out for them. Padiamenet made sure she was at the front, as Jackie had known she would. His grandfather had told him all about the high priestess, the ringleader of the Egyptian Room Rabble, as he liked to call them. They’d been very active on the last full moon that fell on a Friday 13th, struggling at the window to watch the crowds gather for a showing of Alexander Butler’s The Beetle at the picturehouse across the street.

A male mummy whose name Jackie could never remember, let alone pronounce, gestured at the TV.

“It’s The Mummy. From 1932,” he replied. Padiamenet growled her approval.

Jackie dimmed the lights and made his way back to his seat, just in time to see Im-ho-tep unveiled in all his glory. He smiled in the darkness. This would be a good Friday 13th.

* * *

The last Friday 13th to fall on a full moon was apparently in June 1919! The Beetle was actually released in November 1919, telling the tale of an ancient Egyptian princess who transformed herself into a beetle in order to seek revenge, but I figured a little artistic license would be alright!