The Thumping

The museum's intercom crackled on with train station static. 

  "HELLO NORVIL MUSEUM!" I ducked at the sound, trying to escape it, cracking my ear drums. He spoke fast, like a sports announcer, at the most critical part of the game. "Welcome to your nightly broadcast from your FAVORITE night guard! As always, we must get the boring things out of the way before we have! Some! Fun!" His voice trailed up and down with the meter of a radio host. It was well practiced.

"If there is ANY other human in this fine establishment other than your Steve and Linda, remember you are stuffed! If there is anyone else here, you will be arrested, and you could be charged with robbery as you are on the premises thirty minutes after closing!" He sounded way too excited for his long night shift.

  "So, if there are any other living souls in this building, we get to start my favorite game! Hide and go, speak! I'll count to 30, and then the game starts. Have fun!" 

  I could hear the big generators for each light system shutting off, their cranks getting closer each time until the painting in front of me darkened. 

  As my eyes adjusted to the dim light of the exit sign, his words started to set in my head: 'You will be arrested.' I couldn't be arrested—not again, and especially not with robbery charges. Over the still air, a whistle was carried from deep within the museum. It tickled my ears with its swinging tune.

  With the lightest footsteps I could make, I reached the exit sign. Touching the cold metal made my hair stand on end as I gently pressed on the long bar until a loud click crashed through the room like a cymbal. 

  The whistling stopped, and the silence became much louder. I looked around franticly, removing some of my precious light as my hair whipped around my face. 

If I was caught, I would have to look into my mother's eyes as she said, 'I wouldn't be surprised if she did this judge.' I couldn't hear that again. 

  My eyes caught a big pot in the middle of the room. It was decorated with strips and little dancing people moving across the two-dimensional plane. As carefully as possible, I opened the lid and slipped my first leg into it. My footstep sounded like a gong as I put my second in and slipped my body past the hole into the pot. Once the lid was over my head, I was in total darkness. Not even putting my hand in front of my face would give my eyes information. 

  My breathing sounded like it was through a megaphone as it rose up and down, breathing in the clay, which was probably hundreds of years old. I tried to close my eyes, even though it changed nothing, and think about something other than where I was. The more I thought, the more my breathing sounded like it was coming from a tornado. My wind created gale-force winds faster as I felt water drip onto my folded knees. My mind raced almost as fast. 

  A thumping started to grow louder. At first, I thought it was from outside that he had found me. It kept getting faster like he was running in place right outside my pot, teasing me with the promise of captivity. Playing with me just like his stupid voice played up and down like a carousel. I put a hand over my mouth to quiet my breath.

Thump, Thump, Thump, Thump, Thump, Thump.

  Over and over, like an incessant heartbeat, his feet went up and down and up and down. For minutes, his feet went on, just right outside my pot. The drips on my knees were getting bigger and more frequent, adding another sound to my existence. At any moment, he could just open the lid and get this all over with, but he was choosing to mess with me. 

  Thump drip, Thump drip. 

Over and over, faster and faster. I couldn't control my breath, and what did it matter if he was going to torment me. He knew I was there. All he had to do was open the lid and let the red light in. Let it flood in and wash over my face like a river, rinse away the guilt for just a brief moment. Instead, he chose to mess with me! He chose to step and step just outside my reach. I could barely control myself. I started to rock back and forth, and with me, the pot.

Thump drip clang, Thump drip clang

  I couldn't do it again; I didn't want to do it again, but when if he opened that lid, I would have to. He deserved it for stepping over and over. His never-ending

Thump Thump Thump 

  My legs started to tingle with anticipation. I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. My breath got faster as I stared at where I guessed the lid was. My pot rocked back and forth with me. Getting ready for his fly-like hands to lift the lid. That's all he was, just a disgusting fly, but all he did was

Thump Thump Thump.

  I felt even more adrenaline burst through me as the rocking got faster, my breath got faster, and his shoes got faster! I have, too. He'll get me if I don't; I have to. Rung through my head as the 

Thump Thump drip, Thump Thump clang,

Rang on.

   A new sound sounded as a voice called out from the other side of the pot's walls. 

  "Hey!"

  Another shot of adrenaline cracked open like lightning, and I could feel my legs practically vibrating from the sound. The thumping from his shoes meeting the hardwood floor, my breath at record-breaking speeds, the rocking only being contained by my leans, and drip dripping that reminded my legs to be ready. 

  I want to do it again.

I leaped out of the pot before his hand touched it. My head was buzzing with sounds. Screams, Thumps, tears, and then more screaming. Sounds of teeth on flesh and nails on muscle rang out throughout the silent museum like the most beautiful symphony. Thumps of bodies slamming on the ground, drips of ruby blood, and winds cut from hands, swatting me away. I had done it again. And yet it did not go.

Thump Thump Thump.