It has been three years. Three years that he had working as a night guardian in the history museum of Dublin, the Dublinia. Who is “he”, you ask? Patrick McCarthy, a tall, blond twenty six year old man, with a long, oval-shaped face, and strong arms. He has been living here, in Dublin, since 2012. Until then, Patrick had lived with his parents in Galway. But because he didn't have a job, they left him on his own. Well, not totally on his own. They also left the dog, Robert. So they left Patrick and Robert the dog, to go live in Dublin. They didn't say where. So Patrick took Robert with him, and together, they went to Dublin too, hoping they could find them in the big city.
He did not find them.
Instead, he found a job.
But Patrick became weirder and weirder as time passed, and people started calling him “crazy”, “weirdo”, and other names like that. Which he didn't like.
Still, at first, it wasn't that weird. He just told people that statues talked to him, he said they where complaining about their “living conditions”. He also said they were moving and singing with him. No one believed him. Why? Because it could be true, you know. The statues could really move, because there is an electrical system that turns them on, so they talk and move. But at night-time, it isn't possible. Are you still asking why?! Well it's obvious! You really don't know?! Well then, because the electrical system is turned OFF every night! It is useless because no one is here to visit the museum at NIGHT!
You people agree with everyone, don't you? Is this weird? Yes it is! But keep on reading. You'll never guess what's coming next.
So, as I was saying earlier, he wasn't really weird. At first. A few days later, people realized he was drawing and writing on the floor. What did he write? Nobody knows. A historian came and said he could understand most of it, but it was written in a very old language. He wasn't sure about it, and he didn't know if what he read were the exact words, but the one thing he was sure of, Patrick was clearly trying to communicate with someone. Or something…
But it seemed like Patrick was getting better. How is it possible? Well there are many things that we did not know about Patrick. His recovering is part of those things we don't know. He had a dark past, and it looked like he was subject to amnesia.
Unfortunately, this all ended, when he was fired, for Frederic O’Connor arrived. He was the new night guardian now, and nobody needed Patrick anymore. But he wouldn't take that. He couldn't accept it. He had been living a happy life with a happy job in a happy city. And now it was going to disappear?! NO! None of it would change. HE was the night guardian, and this was the Museum that HE guarded.
In other words, the Dublinia was HIS museum.
So, a week after being fired, Patrick could finally go back to the Dublinia, because his revenge plan was finally devised, thanks to what he called the “Master”.
A few hours after installing the traps, O'Connor arrived. He looked steady, like nothing could ever happen to him, because no one would ever come into a museum to steal anything.
But that's because he clearly had no idea what was coming next!
Patrick was hiding in the surveillance room, looking at O'Connor every movement, at his every step. Then, when O'Connor was finally in the room Patrick wanted him to be, Patrick turned the lights on there. The said room was the one about Black Death, also known as the “Bubonic Plague Room”.
As Patrick expected, O'Connor jumped, taken by surprise. That's when he saw the fake rats, sold at boutique at the end of the Museum. But there was something wrong about them, O'Connor could feel it at the tip of his toes, and he swore the rats were different…
Then it hit him, right into his face, he knew how different they were from before. The rats were ALIVE, they were BREATHING!!!
His torch fell and hit the floor hard, as O'Connor started running towards a door. He opened it, but realized it was a dead end. The rats jumped on him, but they disappeared all in a cloud of smoke as they touched him.
The door closed by itself, making O’Connor jump once again. He turned his back to the door to see that a candle had appeared just behind him. Then, without a warning, his nose started bleeding.
'Plick, plock, plick, plock,...'
As the drops of blood fell, new body parts appeared on his left. One drop of blood, and a hand appeared another drop of blood, and there now was a full arm. When the last drop of blood fell from his nose, O'Connor could see a full body shape in front of him. And what he thought was the demon Himself, was actually no one other than Patrick himself.
O'Connor was scared. He tried to hide it, but his constant shivering would only make Patrick angrier.
Patrick thought they waited long enough and that he could now explain to O'Connor why he did all this. And to O'Connor's relief, Patrick finally talked.
“You shouldn't have come,” he said.
But his relief wasn't long, since what Patrick said was not very friendly. I mean, it's not the type of thing you would like to hear when you are as scared as O'Connor was right now, right?
His voice was deep and his face was murky, with dark circles under his eyes, which made him look scarier in the gloomy atmosphere of the room.
Patrick took a few steps forward, and, since he was in front of O'Connor, Patrick's nose was nearly touching his. And, as he took out a knife, Patrick said, “You really shouldn't have come. But you surely don't know why. Then I'm going to tell you why. It's as simple as that; this is MY museum!”
And as he stabbed O'Connor, he burst out into deep, cruel laughter.
The next morning, when the director of the Dublinia Museum came to open it, he looked down on the entry floor and what he could see was this; O'Connor's dead body was lying in a giant, red, bloody pool, next to a small message, clearly written with this one's blood.
It said, 'Consider this message with great care. This museum is now property of Hell...'