Haunted Museum In Las Vegas นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I paused as my nerves started to overwhelm me. "The only room in the museum that was vandalized was the exhibit I worked on," "Femme de Sexe? I read somewhere that there was just a grand opening for it last night. There's pictures of you and that guy you were talking about," He responded, sparking more of my confusion. Opening up my laptop, I quickly searched up the museum where I then looked through all of the articles. Scrolling down, I noticed one that had been posted a few days ago. Clicking on it, I came face to face with a picture

I watched her for a moment, the way her hands shook, the way she was willing to walk back. But, with an assurance. It was that same loyalty that had made me fall for her so damn badly and the same loyalty that was currently destroying us. “Fine, try to stay out of trouble.” I murmured, swerving the car into a sharp turn toward the outskirts of the city. The Petunia Mansion, the place of blood and gore. Also rumored to be haunted by the endless people who died in it. Surrounded by acres of black iron fencing and guards who were definitely soldiers, trained ruthless to be the part of Viper’s strongest Unit.

The horizon was a jagged smear of charcoal gray and bruised violet. For three years, I had walked toward it, guided by nothing but the rumors whispered in the hushed, terrified voices of dying scavengers. They spoke of a place that held the line, a fortress of humanity amidst the rotting sprawl of the walking dead. They called it "Haven."

Date = 21 January A really really long fucking day. Place = San Francisco (Haunted house) POV - Damion They brought me here. To the haunted house. To Mel. Brick gives me the smallest wink before slamming the van door shut — a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it flash of alliance. Then the van pulls away. And I’m standing between the two new escorts I’ve been handed over to. They look like someone tried to clone Homer Simpson but ran out of intelligence halfway through. Same doughy faces. Same vacant eyes. Just with more tattoos and worse hygiene.

But, being forced to abandon by some other people was not fair. “There are things I have not yet told you about the resort.” “Yeah, I suspected so. Let me guess, they’re not good things.” Hannah shook her head. “That’s right, but I need this. This is the only thing that connects us to our father.” I sighed. “What’s wrong with that resort? Why was it closed all those years ago? Were people killed in it? Those bones, were they human?” “I will tell you,” she said, standing up. “I will narrate everything to you and Emmett at the same time. Let me first shower. I’m hungry.”

"Well, for now we have to go and come up with another plan." We get back in the car and drive, I don't know for how long. Until I realize we're on the artsy side of town. That part that houses the museums and zoos, all the tourism in the place. We drive past the central museum, where I came with Habbab to see the Van Gogh exhibit. "Stop." I ask Esat, I want to go inside to see. "What, what do you mean stop?" "Do it, Esat, stop, now, please." He hits the brakes doing my bidding, I ask him to go to the museum and he agrees. Luckily Esat pays for the tickets, this time it is not closed only for us.

Instead, she silently followed him and the rest of the tour group. Inside, the museum was huge and for some unknown purpose, full of mirrors at almost every point. Rose shuddered. She always hated mirrors. For reasons that she could not fully explain, it always made her feel like someone was following her, watching her every move. And at that moment, her fears were materialized.

"Not shrewd enough. Take me to the museum. I think the exhibit will have to be cut short." "I would, but there's just one problem." Dread filled me. "What?" "It's been stolen."

Andrew parked his gold Aston Martin in the parking lot of the Moonlit Homeless Shelter. Over the past three days, he had taken Princess Aurora to all of his favorite monuments and landmarks within the city: the One World, One Species Tower (a monument to werewolf/human coexistence), Bloodsuckers Rock (a memorial to the victims of the first vampiric insurgence), Lycanthrope Galleria, the Werewolf Heritage and Art Museum, to name a few. Now, he wanted to show her a grimmer side of the werewolf world and what he was doing to clean it up.

I shouldn’t be here. Part of me wants to act like a child and demand to stay in the car, but I know Carden won’t allow it and I don’t want to look like a whiny idiot in front of Rafe. “There’s a mausoleum a little bit ahead, it’s in connection with some unwanted activity.” That’s it? I nearly laugh in his face. “What? A couple of teenagers messing around? Put up security cameras if it’s that important.” Are these people oblivious to how damaged the world is? Vandalism and murder are just as causual as Sunday brunch.