Potts vs. the Museum of Doom

By Hannah Carter

“Coppelia, the next time a cursed mummy comes to life and you think it’s a great chance to pretend to be Indiana Jones, leave me out of it!” Wolfgang Potts puffed as the two siblings darted down a dark museum hallway, lit by their flashlights and red emergency lights.

Coppelia shoved the sign that read “Old West Exhibit This Way” behind her as an obstacle for their pursuer… an undead pharaoh.

The sign didn’t faze him; neither did the other hazards that she’d strewn about.

“I can’t help it! You know what those movies do to—” Coppelia shrieked as one of the mummy’s wrappings slithered around her leg. It tripped her, and her flashlight skittered out of reach. The ancient strips tore easily as she ripped them off, but two more still pursued her and Wolfy.

Coppelia jumped to her feet and ran at a slapdash pace toward her lost beam of light, careful to hold onto the brim of her fedora. No self-respecting Indiana Jones enthusiast would lose it, no matter the peril.

Meanwhile, the mummy moaned and held his hands out as he shambled a few feet behind them. He wasn’t fast, but his bits of linen kept dragging the Potts children back to the pharaoh.

Wolfy unsheathed a knife from his belt—an unusual item for an eleven-year-old to haul around, but when one comes from a long line of Nightmare Hunters, one learns quickly what to pack on family expeditions.

“Duck!” Wolfy yelled.

Coppelia dropped and grabbed her flashlight as her brother leapt over her head and sliced at the next wave of whip-like bandages.

“Come on, just run!” Coppelia dragged Wolfgang away by the collar of his shirt.  “According to the Nightmare Hunter Guidebook, he’s just got to lose all his wrappings and the curse will be broken. He must be running low; he’s been chasing us since we found him in the Medieval exhibit.”

They careened around a corner and into a room that boasted Old West memorabilia. Coppelia tugged Wolfy behind a hokey “Most Wanted” photo stand-in and flicked off her flashlight.

For a few seconds, the only sounds were their breathing and the shuffles and groans of the mummy as he ambled after them.

“When you said that we had a case that involved sneaking into a museum after hours,” Wolfy whispered, “I thought it would be more like From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler instead of Night at the Museum.”

Coppelia licked her lips. “Yeah? Well, all I wanted was a whip and to be a professor of archaeology, but we don’t all get what we want.”

Wolfy peeked his head around the edge and jerked back. He pressed one finger to his lips.

Coppelia leaned against the wall and sucked in a breath. She could see the mummy’s bandages as they twisted around like snakes and curled over the protective glass cases. Could those things see, or was the mummy solely dependent on his own five senses? The Guidebook was unclear on that point.

Green, decayed flesh peeked through wrappings, and yellow eyes scanned the room as the mummy hunted his prey. His mouth hung open to reveal a grotesque row of rotten teeth.

Wolfy shoved his shoulder against Coppelia’s as his fingers tightened on her shirt sleeve.

Coppelia held her breath as the wrappings writhed and slid over the top of the cutout.

A second.

Thirty seconds.

Coppelia dared to take another breath.

Then the deceased pharaoh’s head poked through one of the holes, and he roared.

“Run!” Wolfy shoved Coppelia in the back. She tumbled out of her hiding place and darted out of the room, past the Italian Renaissance exhibit and into the Ancient Egyptian wing.

A thump sounded from behind her, and Wolfy screeched.

She whirled around, her shout so loud it hurt her throat. “Wolfy!”

Wolfy hacked at the bonds, but the mummy was on top of him. All the bandages uncoiled from the Egyptian and curled around Wolfy’s body. “Go!”

Coppelia raced toward him. “No way, Wolfy—I’m your gosh-darn sister!”

In terms of weapons… she had no weapons. She wished she had Indiana’s whip—but she was smart as a whip, which had to count for something.

The mummy was almost freed.

Wolfy’s hands began to wither as he struggled against his attacker, while the pharaoh’s flesh began to regenerate.

“Wolfy!” Coppelia screamed.

He only groaned, just like a mummy.

Coppelia grabbed a golden cat statue from a pedestal. “Get off my brother!”

She lunged at the mummy and swung her weapon straight for its face.

Clang!

Its head twisted around as it stumbled backward. Coppelia relished in the sound as she delivered an uppercut with the aureate kitty.

“Don’t—mess—with—us!” She grunted with exertion as she delivered each blow through clenched teeth.

The mummy called his wrappings back. They slowly unwound from Wolfy and made their way up Coppelia’s legs, but she thrashed the mummy’s abdomen in retaliation.

“And you—” She advanced farther, her end goal in sight. “Belong—” Another impact. “In—” The bandages were at her waist now, and she could feel her vitality draining away. “A museum!”

With that, she clobbered her foe with the statue. The full force of the artifact sent him into the sarcophagus behind him, and Coppelia swung the lid shut and locked it.

“And don’t you even think about escaping again!” Coppelia shouted as the lid rattled furiously. She grabbed the vestiges of wrappings and jerked them out. With one loud rip, the mummy fell silent, his curse broken at last.

Coppelia scurried over to Wolfy, the wrappings still clutched in her hand.

She kissed his cheek… and placed her fedora on his head. “I believe the museum is safe from curses once more.”

“Case closed?” he wheezed.

Coppelia smiled. “Case closed.”

“Great.” Wolfy closed his eyes; his skin had already regained its normal shade. “Ugh. Mummies. Why did it have to be mummies?”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Hannah Carter is just a girl who loves to dream and write, and still wakes up every day hoping this will be the day she figures out she’s secretly a mermaid. She currently has two published novellas, Amir and the Moon and Seashells. She has had over a dozen devotionals published in various magazines. She also won a competition with her short story “Lara.”

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