I woke up with a start and was astonished to find the gallery so quite and almost dark. From the wall in front of me the portrait of an old man looked down at me. It came to me where I was. I had been shut up in the museum. I tried to stay calm and thought about my situation. I remembered. I, an archaeological student, had come to the museum and by sheer misfortune was somehow locked up.
It was twenty minutes to midnight by my wrist watch. I walked down the dim lighted passageway. The walls flanking me were neatly covered with large, lively portraits and as I walked past them, their eyes seemed to be fixed on me-noting all of my movements. I left the art gallery and was heading towards the exit, when I heard faint whispers coming from the antique gallery which was just a door ahead from my current position. I tried to ignore the but something in me held me back. I tiptoed to the Antique Gallery and surveyed the entire area-searching for anything disorderly or suspicious. Everything from the century old pottery, basic weapons to the ivory statues embedded with jewels were in order. Then something caught my eyes-rather didn’t. Where was the crudely carved yet appealing granite statue once belonging to a now lost civilization? It depicted a Good Magician named Subla blessing an Evil Emperor who was praying on his knees? The myth behind it had captivated me; the statue sang the glory of Subla who used to punish all evil doers. I also loved its name, which when translated to English meant -“The Praying Devil”. But where was it? It was supposed to be positioned between a four feet sandstone cauldron and a rusted spear- all from the same civilization which had existed on a small island in the Pacific Ocean. The place where the statue stood in the morning was vacant.
I checked and rechecked the whole gallery but couldn’t find it. Was it just a figment of my imagination-perhaps the kind of hallucinations people are known to have when scared and alone? Or was it-
Crash! It sounded as if something had shattered into a hundred pieces. The noise seemed to have come from the Antique Gallery’s exit. I rushed to the spot to discover two men bending over what looked like a shattered crystal something. The men were swearing, cursing and blaming each other for breaking the object but stopped doing so as soon as they realized me stationed behind them. Exchanging bemused glances with his partner one of the men stood up and fished out a threatening pistol. Then aiming it point blank at me he asked his companion, “Leeve, shall I kill this pest?”
Leeve answered, “Chor, not yet, we can’t waste our time on her. Come help me carry the stolen statue. We need to put it in the car and return for more things.” Chor obeyed Leeve and let go of me.
I noticed an outsized sack lying on the floor and from it was probing out none other than the unmistakable statue of “The Praying Devil”! Robbers! I had to stop them somehow.
“You stole the statue,” I bravely squeaked out, “Put it back.”
“Don’t waste our time,”Chor barked out and hauling the sack, the two headed towards another gallery.
“Burglars-help!!” I screamed at the top of my voice and this time Leeve took out his revolver and got ready to shoot me. As if to answer to my desperate call the statue rose up in the air. I was too stunned to wonder this. At that moment something even stranger happened-something that none of us could ever imagine; not even in our wildest of dreams.
It was all too fast for me to understand. All I saw was an intense flash of crimson light followed by several others and Subla was in motion. He bore a raged expression and a dazzling white light emitted from him and hit the two burglars. I shut my eyes. I heard ear spitting screams and then…
* * *
“Hey kid, wake up. What on Saturn are you doing here in the middle of the museum floor? Did we lock the place with you inside yesterday?”
I woke with a start to find a man in uniform bending down close to me. I looked around, startled and wondering why my head ached. Then I remembered what had taken place the last night. It puzzled me beyond measure. I sat up; prepared to tell the man everything when another guard came hastening to the spot.
He was panting and with a bewildered look whispered, “Ben, strange things are happening here. You won’t believe what I just saw in the Antique Gallery. Remember “The Praying Devil” statue? Now oddly enough there are two men kneeling down to Subla besides the Evil Emperor…” Ben swore loudly but I calmed down. I could presume what had happened and I silently thanked Subla.
