Ghosts at the Museum 🏛️

She was normal—absolutely normal. Well, that was until she thought she was going to die... but we'll get to that later...

Let's start with who is... she?

Well, she is Laura Javier, an ordinary art management graduate from a small university in Ilora City, who had long dreamed of working at a museum.

After months of juggling smaller gallery jobs—and even customer service and call center work just to get by—she finally got her chance. Thanks to a connection with a friend, she applied to the city’s largest and most prestigious art institution: the Ilora City Art Museum…

Laura adjusted the sleeve of her neatly ironed black blazer as she stepped into the museum for the first time. Her jet-black hair was tied into a clean high bun, revealing the graceful line of her neck. A teal blouse added a gentle splash of color beneath the dark layers, while her fitted pencil skirt and black ivory heels completed the look of someone trying very hard to appear composed. Yet, the moment her heels echoed across the marble halls, that composure nearly vanished.

The museum opened before her like a dream made real—grand, elegant, alive with art and stories. Her breath caught in her throat. It felt unreal. She stood there quietly, overwhelmed and overjoyed all at once, blinking back tears.

“I can’t believe I’m actually here. Finally…” Laura murmured to herself, excitement and nerves fogging up her oval-shaped glasses, her chestnut-brown eyes barely visible behind them.

As Laura looked around, mesmerized by the interior, someone suddenly called out to her, calling her name.

"Ms. Javier?" She spoke. It was a kind and gentle face.

With her long, straight black hair and brown almond eyes, the stranger appeared sweet and even inviting. She was the operations associate of the museum, named Layla Mendoza, a hardworking woman with a morena complexion.

Laura almost felt her fears wash away the moment she saw Layla smile. She was relieved that the first person she would see wasn’t, actually, too intimidating.

Based on what some of Laura’s friends had said—people who worked in prestigious institutions such as the Ilora City Art Museum—the work environment was known to be cold, rigid, and tedious. But that really depended on how one handled the workload—and even the office drama.

“You must be Laura Javier, correct? The new admin assistant from Augustus Community College?” Layla smiled as she took in Laura's appearance. It was as if she were studying her, checking her against the résumé she held in her hand.

“Y-Yes, ma’am! That’s me. Nice to meet you!” Laura blurted out, a little too enthusiastically, holding up her freshly issued museum ID from Human Resources. She was pretty happy about it.

“I see, good.” Layla smiled again at Laura's enthusiasm and offered a hand for a handshake. "Shall we begin then?" She gestured for Laura to follow as they began a quick tour of the museum.

“Welcome to the Ilora City Art Museum." Layla started proudly, "I am Layla Mendoza. I’ve been the museum operations associate here for five years now.”

The two women, Laura and Layla, began the tour, entering the great hall, which was filled with sculptures and dangling installations that made the ceiling look absolutely stunning. Layla generally introduced the different museum spaces—the galleries, facilities, and more.

“So, the museum has been here for five decades and has housed the biggest collection of historical to contemporary artworks in Ilora City.”

Layla gestured to each room and structure.

“We have four wings—the north, the south, the east, and the west.

The north wing is where you’ll find most of the historical and cultural pieces; in the south, you’ll find those from the modern period. As for the east and west wings, you’ll find more contemporary art pieces.

These wings also contain other offices and facilities for our staff under art management, art maintenance and conservation, and archives.

We’ve been working on expanding further due to the growing size of the collection.”

Laura listened intently. She was overwhelmed—no, ecstatic by the beauty and extravagance of the place; and the fact that she had the opportunity to see all of this every day was exciting.

“Here, on the top-most floor, you will find our admin office,” Layla said as she guided her.

It wasn’t much different from an ordinary office, but it was filled with paintings and sculptures, making it feel almost like a gallery of its own.

“This will be your desk. You’ll be sitting beside me.” Layla gestured to the space prepared for Laura as she placed the folder down.

Laura felt excitement bubbling up again. Her own table, her own files, her own office chair. She could have screamed, but she held it in and tried to compose herself.

“And,” Layla added, pointing across the room, “the offices over there are for our main admin staff.”

Across the room, beyond the next wall, stood a row of offices with frosted glass, revealing only the silhouettes of four figures at their desks. Each door bore an old golden-plated sign: Museum Manager, Museum Officer, and, at the far end, Museum Director.

For some reason, the atmosphere felt different as Laura stared at them. It was quiet—too quiet. Only the faint sound of typing and muffled whispers drifted from inside, as if the people there existed in another world entirely.

And like that... a slight tension crept into Laura’s shoulders. But she was snapped out of her thoughts the moment Layla spoke again.

“Our head admins seldom come out due to constant meetings and events they have to handle, but they do mingle. Sometimes. From time to time.” Layla explained.

“I see...” Laura just nodded with understanding.

“Don’t worry, though,” Layla said as she settled at her desk. Her voice was reassuring. “You’ll meet them soon enough. They’re just very tied up with work right now. That's why they asked me to show you around. So, if you’ve got questions, don’t hesitate to ask, okay?”

With a nod, Laura finally sat at her chair, her breath deepening as if she had been holding it for too long.

The place felt overwhelming, but deep in her heart, she knew she would make it… Or so she thought...