The Museum

e stopped there, because we had a spare hour before my train, and it was beginning to rain. I had been having lunch with a friend and his wife while I was in the city on business. The museum was a small shop front with the words "Olde London Museume." painted above it. We decided that it must be for the tourists, but it did seem rather run down and out of the way.

The original shop space had been turned into a foyer with a ticket booth, some old cane backed chairs, and an imposing iron bound wooden door to the rear. The floor and the ticket booth were of dark polished wood, and the floor was well worn with the passage of people. It was lit with oil lanterns hanging from the walls. The room already contained several people when we arrived.

The most obvious of these was the ticket seller. An old man with white balding hair, wearing a black silk waistcoat over his white cotton shirt. His complexion was rather palid too, giving him a distinctly two tone effect overall.

The others were three fairly non-descript business men. They were all rather young, and dishevelled. One of them glanced around furtively, but the other two were whispering amongst themselves, apparently commencing as we entered.

As my friend had paid for lunch, it was my treat to buy the tickets. The ticket seller offered us the quick tour to see all the best exhibits as we were in a hurry.

It was as the, now guide, was unlocking the wooden door that the first reference to the three men was made.

"Come along, you three.", requested the guide. "I've got something of interest to show you."

The guide's tone was friendly enough, but it seemed over familiar, and the wording implied there was no real choice. This feeling was further heightened by the replies.

"Firnalbecker's anti-gravity device I presume, or is it Shcuberg's self sharpening razor?" exclaimed the first hysterically.

"No. Its got to be Fitzpatric's perpetual motion machine or Baker's universal reading automaton.", contradicted the second in an equally agitated voice.

The third man continued to glance around.

This all seemed very odd to me. I had never heard of any of these people or inventions, and I doubted that either of my companions had done so either. The whole attitude of these men was that of unwilling children who would obey the commands of their parents, but not without complaint.

We passed through a series of small interconnecting rooms containing exhibits. None of these rooms were at the same level, having steps up and down at the doorways, and none of them seemed to possess a window. Our guide pointed out exhibits to us, although not the ones mentioned in the foyer. Despite this, the other men seemed very bored, and kept looking distractedly around.

After what seemed like about ten minutes, we found ourselves in a small attic like room at the top of an enclosed spiral staircase. Unlike the other rooms we had been in, this one had a small window, although nothing could be seen through it because of the driving rain.

Suddenly, the third man jumped the guide, and attempted to strangle him with a bullwhip which had been hanging on the wall only the moment before. Within a second or so, the other two caught on, and began to help in this attack. The first laid in with a brass candlestick, while the second attempted to force the window.

We were horrified, not knowing which way to turn, nor why these men should attack the guide. It didn't take long however to realise that their ferocity was that born of sheer desperation.

The guide quickly dispatched the strangler with his own whip, before tossing him sprawling towards the window, leaving his neck at a most unhealthy angle. The candlestick wielder had little better luck. Despite the grievous wounds he was inflicting, the guide did not falter under the blows, but seemed even to gain in stature and mutate. Its arms turning into monstrous tentacle like appendages with which It attempted to throttle the man. As we watched two more of these tentacles burst forth through Its ribcage, as though Its internal organs were too large or too numerous to be contained within. They lashed out at us and the man at the window, upsetting the lanterns on the wall.

By now the window was open and the surviving man was already climbing out into the torrential rain. We could see that he was going for the fire escape, but that was a good fifteen foot jump from the ledge. As we dashed for the window, my friend tossed the now discarded bullwhip to him, and the man managed to loop it around the rail of the fire escape.

I helped my friends out of the window, and then hung from the ledge waiting to grab the whip myself. For those few seconds I stared into that room and saw the full horror of that which lay within. Where the guide had been was now a monstrous tentacled horror. All human likeness had long since past. Flames flickered around Its shambling form, for by now the upset lantern had caught fire to the drapes and furniture. Of the other two men, little but scraps of torn flesh and clothing could be seen. As I watched, the floor groaned and fell in under the weight of Its bloated mass, and I could hear Its slow destructive progress from floor to floor. I made my escape to the rail just as the roof was caving in.

I eventually joined my companions at the safety of the street level, intact but shocked. The other man had already made his escape into the maze of back alleys before I had completed my decent, and within a few minutes the police and fire brigade had arrived. The fire spread very rapidly, despite their best efforts, and by the time they had got it under control there was little left of the whole row but burning debris.

There was an inquiry, of course, at which we had to attend as witnesses. We choose, in the interests of our reputations not to reveal the full nature of those afternoon's events. Eventually verdicts of accidental death were passed on those who perished, but significantly only the remains of two victims were ever recovered from the rubble.