Haunted Museum Las Vegas Novels & Stories

My eyes widened as I began scanning my environment. They were lot of dead bodies of random people, policemen, security guards all killed and some of their head busted. I listened with my hearing, the voice of the man barking orders had increased. “Go check, everyone! And every single room. You, take the treasure into the van, now!!” he yelled at his men. They didn’t seem like forces. They are here for the artefact also. Bandits… I was trapped in a museum with deadly armed bandits. I began panicking. Bandits. I fucking detested them. They were the ones who murdered my parents right in front of me heartlessly.

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 meant to go straight home, but my anxiety dragged me back to the restoration archives. I needed to calm down. I needed a plan. Walking down the dim museum corridors, a few vampires glided silently past me like shadows. Their pale, flawless faces looked eerie in the candlelight. Thank God I never sent Morpheus a face pic. Otherwise, any of these ancient beings could instantly spot the stupid human flirting with their kind online. Stripping them wasn't an option. But I had another lead.

“Then we burn it all down with us inside.” Isolde stared at him. No pretense. No poetry. Just the truth raw, razor-edged, and laced with the scent of danger. Outside, the night swallowed the skyline. Inside, they dressed in silence. In masks. On purpose. And in armor not even the Host could see through. The elevator opened into a dim, mirrored vestibule beneath the Museum of Modern Art, a place that shouldn’t exist. This was no exhibit. This was a stage. The walls were lacquered black. The ceiling glass, with silhouettes moving behind it like phantoms above them. As if the audience watched already, unseen.

Lucian rolled his eyes at the phone, then looked to Pebbles. “Yes, that is what we said, but Ahnu’shanti did some scouting when he got back. He said that he is rather sure that the Demon is under the museum.” Ryan filled Lucian in on where they thought the Demon was hiding out. “Wonderful.” Lucian rolled his eyes, signing off on the phone, letting Ryan know they were on their way in. Pebbles sat at the table with him to hear what he had been told. Lucian explained everything to her and saw the worry in her eyes.

Even printing documents meant running hundreds of yards to a copy shop outside the building. The torment from both lives gnawed at my nerves until I felt I was about to be driven mad by this absurd, malicious hostility. At last, the workday ended. The new fingerprint scanner had been installed. The moment it was time to clock out, I rushed over. This felt like my only hope. If I could escape the curse of the fingerprint machine, maybe I could finally find a breakthrough or some explanation for all these bizarre events. I took a deep breath and placed my hand on the new scanner.

“How are you getting this knowledge Lona Jones?” “I don’t know where it’s coming from. Maybe this is why the Oracle insisted Dreamer, Oracles, and Seers were interconnected. Some sort of connection like what a Seer has. I haven’t a clue what is happening or how.” They came to the haunted house and Raven walked around it. Stepping over things that seemed to litter between the haunted house and the fun house with its mirror maze. They could see the carts stopping and starting as they entered and exited the haunted house. The soundtrack of screams and horrific moans came from inside the building.

“Guilty.” “Oh man, when I saw they were fixing up the place last year, I thought someone might have decided to turn it into a museum like the Juliette Gordon Low House, but you’re actually going to live there?” Brad laughed. “That’s the plan. Why?” “You know about the house’s reputation, right?” “You mean stories of spooks and ghoulies?” “Yeah, it’s one of the most haunted sites in all of Savannah and that’s a verified fact.” Brad’s tilted his head and looked skeptically at Bias. “You don’t really believe in that stuff, do you?”

That makes Owen a nice chunk of change on the side. Walking towards his work shop out behind the motel, he passes the newest guests that checked in last night. Three teenage boys and two girls. They are making a documentary of locations across the country that had been the scene of a grizzly crime. They were telling him that they had already filmed nearly one hundred places, the most famous being the Lizzie Borden house, the Amityville Horror House, Ed Gein's house, Jeffery Dahmer's house, and the Vallisca Ax Murder House. They told him they were on there way to California to see the Manson Mansion. Owen feigned interest before politely slipping away before they could ask him to 'say a few w

End of story. We drove on in silence and a few minutes later, we turned left onto NV-172. Soon, we pulled up in front of the Hoover Dam. Although it was dark, it was still beautiful and mountains were silhouetted majestically in the distance. I just hoped that he didn't plan to throw me off. Between the mafia and vampires, people disappeared in the desert all the time. If they wanted you dead, you were, but if he was going to kill me, I could think of better ways to die than being thrown off the Hoover Dam.