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Motivation With DerrickHudsonVlogs WorldWide
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CREATIVITY IS IN MY BLOOD
CREATIVITY IS IN MY BLOOD

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CHAPTER TWO
SIGNS AND WONDERS

Meanwhile, in another part of town, Security Guard Jeffrey Peters and his partner, Gorden Curhan was in the middle of their regular routine, which consisted of patroling the grounds at Silverbourne Museum. As usual things were quiet and uneventful at the museum. Whereas, Gorden whose employment had spanned for more than two dozen or so years there, Jeffrey was practically new there, having obtain the gig a couple of months ago in order to help pay for his college tuition.
The well-known museum was home to a large collection of the strangest and rarest artifacts Jeffrey had ever seen. Never in his wildest dreams could he imagine the things he was seeing. It was as if he had died and gone to heaven.
According to Gorden the place had never once been broken into, which to a certain extent, suited the younger guard just fine. Ideally, Jeffrey fancied the quietness of the graveyard shift, more so than the noise and chatter that accompany the daytime. What’s more he was in his element; the darkness was his true love, and he would not surrender its intimate embrace.
To Jeffrey, the museum was essentially a gold mind; furnished with exquisite paintings, elegant carved statues, extravagant ornaments and other rare items from around the world. Jeffrey guessed the precious collection had to be worth millions in the black market. So how come no one attempted to rob the place? After all, the valuable items had to be enticing for even the common street junkie.
If truth be told, he too, on more than one occasion had thoughts of swiping one of the priceless pieces on display. One particular item had caught Jeffrey’s attention for a while now: a magnificent stone sarcophagus with several small, cobalt blue gems embedded into the surface of the superbly crafted stone. Intricate and unfamiliar symbols were scribe on the side of the sarcophagus.
On second thought, Jeffrey was against the idea of stealing it, given that he needed the job, and he wasn't going to tempt fate by trying to swindle the expensive box even though it would help him not only to pay off his tuition but also buy him a nice beach house in some remote island somewhere in the Caribbean.
What’s more, he couldn’t give in to temptation; after all, he had more than a few charges pin against him. He didn’t need one more charge to add to the list of unsightly crimes he’d committed prior to his employed at the museum. Chances are he would surely spend a considerable amount of time in prison if caught.
Rumor has it that the reason no one was foolish enough to rob the museum was due to the fact the museum was owned by Aldus Silverbourne, a wealthy businessman and an alleged wizard. By all accounts, Silverbourne was protecting the site with an array of protection spells, booby traps and other forms of magical enchantments. Jeffrey didn't put much stock in the rumors, seeing as he didn't believe in such nonsense. “There's no such thing as magic,” he told Gorden, recalling his first day on the job when the older man had informed him about the incredulous tale.
On the other hand, Jeffrey wished for a night of excitement. He would give anything for a chance to see someone break in the place and try to steal one of the many artifacts there just so he could find out whether or not the stories were true. Be careful with what you wish for, Jeffrey thought. It may well come back to bite me in the ass.
True to Jeffrey’s prediction, the sound of tires squealing was heard in the distance, growing louder until finally a set of headlights came into view. A black hearse raced through the empty street toward the Silverbourne Museum. It screeched to a stop in front of building’s entrance where three individuals, a woman and two men quickly emerged from the vehicle with a fourth person whose face was hidden behind a pillowcase and its hands bound together in front of it.
“Celeste, are you certain this is the place?” the man said. “I don’t need any screw ups.”
Tall and willowy, Celeste Blackthorn had stunning green eyes, a dark complexion, and curly, uncut platinum blond hair. She was dress in a black mid-length corset vest and matching short skirt. Pair of black vintage shoes completed the vampiress’ alluring wardrobe while pair of silver earrings hung from her ears.
“Yeah, Zachariah, this is the place.” Celeste said. “The sarcophagus was shipped here yesterday.”
“Well then,” Zachariah said. “Let’s get this over with, shall we. The sooner this is finish, the better it is for all of us.”
“I Agree.” Celeste said. “But first we still have that problem with the protective charm, thanks to Aldus here.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Zachariah said, revealing a mouthful of razor-sharp teeth so that they gleamed menacingly in the moonlight. “If he values his life he will gladly help us, won’t you Aldus.”
Aldus made a muffled sound.
The third figure who was named Salvatore Nicholas, cast aside the bag from the wizard’s head. The owner of the museum was gagged with a piece of black cloth in his mouth.
Aldus muttered incoherently from underneath the gag.
“What’s that, you old geezer?” Zachariah said. “Are you trying to tell us something?”
Straight away, Celeste snatched the rag out of the wizard’s mouth. The museum owner gasped for air, struggling to breathe. Aldus felt like he was going to hack up a lung.
“Y…y…you don’t know what you’re doing,” Aldus said. “If she’s set free there’s no telling the damage she’ll cause to this world. You can’t do this.”
“Save it, old man,” Salvatore said. His hazel eyes glisten brightly beneath the moonlit sky. “We had enough of your yapping. It’s time to get our money’s worth. So less talk, more work.”
“This is insane,” Aldus said. “We’re all going to die. I won’t help you…I won’t be a responsible for countless deaths.”
“I was afraid you’d say that,” Zachariah said. “Thanks to our employer I brought along a compelling potion just for this kind of situation. You’ll be singing the blues and loads more once you had a taste of it.”
The color drained from the wizard’s face. “No! You don’t have to do this. Please…please let me go.”
Zachariah reached in his pocket, retrieving a small thin tube which contained a clear, watery liquid that was pink in color. Aldus stared at the cylindrical glass and its elixir with panic in his eyes; he struggled to get free, but his captors held a firm, unyielding grip on him.
“Bottoms up,” Zachariah said, laughing menacingly, and like that he poured the liquid in the wizard’s mouth who tried to no avail of spitting out the potent concoction which tasted like something that came out of the toilet. He felt sick to the stomach.
Aldus screamed, squirmed and kicked, trying with all he could muster to free himself. His efforts were of no use; he was far too weak from the disarming spell his abductors had place him under to mount any kind of resistance. To make matters worse, they were clever enough to take his wand in advance, leaving him with no other choice but to drink the highly effective potion.
At once, the potion was taking effect, faster than even Aldus could ever imagine. The wizard sensed himself being drawn away from his body. His vision was blurry, and he felt his mind was spinning, tumbling towards a dark, inescapable abyss that may well be his last. And then, with the last of his strength spent, he surrendered to the unrelenting darkness that awaited him.
Whatever was left of Aldus was a nothing more than mindless empty shell of his former self. Unblinkingly, the museum owner stared endlessly at his captors, not knowing where he was or what would happen next.
“Atta boy,” Zachariah said, shoved the wizard’s wand into his chest. “Now won’t you do us a favor and cast off your protection spell.”
Under the control of the potion in which he had swallowed mere moments ago, Aldus did exactly what he was told.
Without hesitation, Aldus extended the wand away from his body, pointing it at the museum, and with the outstretched magical rod the wizard executed three circular patterns in the air. Tiny specks of bright green energy ignited from the wand, at the same time as this, he spoke in a foreign tongue.
But before he could finish his incantation, a voice arose from the museum. “Everyone freeze! Put your hands over your head.”
The owner of the voice was Jeffrey who, along with Gorden, had their guns drawn. The trio slowly raised their hands over their heads, except for Aldus who under the potion looked strangely callous and indifferent.
“Everything’s in order, officers,” Celeste said, flashing an enticing smile. “Our friend Aldus here, was just helping us out, is all.”
“Kill him,” Zachariah said, addressing Gorden. “We already wasted too much time here. Do it now!”
Gorden paused, looking rather unsure of what he should do as though he was hesitating to accept his orders. The older man’s gun quivered in his hands; his eyes greeted Zachariah with a whisper of doubt.
“Kill him,” Zachariah repeated. “Kill him, now!”
Slowly, Gorden turned his weapon on Jeffrey.
“Gorden…?” Jeffrey said. “What’s going on? What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry, Jeff,” Gorden said. “I have no other choice.”
Gorden fired his gun three times as the bullets slammed into Jeffrey’s chest, knocking the shocked younger officer off his feet. Jeffrey collapsed to the ground, blood gushed from his perforated wounds.
Gulping for air, Jeffrey knew this was it, knew he was a goner. His fellow worker, a friend to him during his brief time at the museum, and now he was going to die; betrayed by that same friend in the end.
Jeffrey looked up to see Gorden standing over him. A hint of compassion showed on Gorden’s face as the older man knelt down beside the fallen officer; his firearm pointed directly at Jeffrey’s skull.
Jeffrey never got a chance to ask why his colleague was taking his life, never got a chance learn the reason he aligned himself with these people, and he never got to hear the sound of the bullet that shot all the through all the way through his skull.
“Well then,” Zachariah said. “With that little task out of the way let’s finish what we started, shall we.”
As Zachariah said that, Aldus raised his wand once more and chanted in words of a foreign tongue. At that moment, the enchanted shield that was supposed to protect the museum from outsiders was now crumbling to pieces thanks to the one person who conjurer it so long ago.
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Five days ago.???

-35 below zero😨

Now????

😬(in my neck of the woods)😬
~so to speak~



It's ~~~(drum roll please)~~~~

😎
53 degrees!!!
(Real Feel 40°)


SUMMER HAS COME!!!!


(Limited showing)
Seasonal Tickets Non-Refundable
😕






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Laurel and Hardy with their wives ,on holiday in Ireland 1950.
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