Congratulations! You’ve been chosen as the night curator of Hollowvale Museum — a position that promises solitude, silence, and a steady paycheck.Located on the edge of Blackridge Town, the museum stands as a relic of history, home to centuries-old artifacts and priceless exhibits. But behind every locked glass case and dusty corridor, there’s something waiting. The job isn’t just about guarding history — it’s about surviving it. A Dream Job Turns into a Nightmare When you first applied for the night curator job, you imagined an easy role — checking cameras, maintaining reports, and enjoying peaceful nights surrounded by art. The HR manager smiled during the interview.“You’ll love it,” she said. “Just follow the rules. Every curator before you has.” Later that night, your first shift begins. On your desk lies a yellowed piece of paper titled: “Rules for the Night Curator.” Scrawled in red ink at the bottom are the words: “Follow them… or become part of the collection.” You laugh it off. But as the clock ticks toward 9:30 PM, the air grows heavier — and the museum begins to breathe. Rule 1: Cover the Egyptian Mask “At 9:30 PM, cover the Egyptian mask in Exhibit Room 2. It tends to ‘watch’ new employees.” Room 2 feels colder than the rest. In the center stands a golden mask — eyes carved with eerie precision, glinting under dim security lights. The tag reads: “Recovered from the Tomb of Nesem-Ra, 1849. Donor: Unknown.” As you stare, the shadows shift. You’re certain the mask’s gaze moves with you.Heart racing, you grab the black cloth and gently cover it. Instantly, the pressure in the room fades. You turn to leave — and hear a faint whisper from beneath the cloth: “Thank you…” You freeze. Then, forcing a smile, you note it in your logbook: “Mask covered — 9:30 PM. Room silent.” Rule 2: Ignore the Laughter “If you hear children laughing, it’s coming from the wax figures. Ignore it.” By 10:30 PM, the corridors feel alive. The wax figure gallery, your least favorite section, is filled with smiling mannequins dressed in old-fashioned clothes — a wax family frozen in time. Then, faintly, you hear it.Children laughing. It echoes through the hall, bouncing off the marble floors. One of the wax boys seems to have tilted his head slightly since last round. You grip your flashlight tighter and keep walking.The laughter turns into a whisper. “Don’t leave us alone…” You walk faster.When you glance back, the figures haven’t moved — but their painted smiles now seem a little wider. Rule 3: The Knock at 11:45 PM At 11:45 PM, just when you’re convincing yourself this is all nerves, a sharp knock breaks the silence. Three knocks.Coming from the Closed Exhibit Room, sealed with rusted chains and a plaque that reads: “Exhibit under restoration. Do not enter.” You recall the rule: “When you hear a knock from the Closed Exhibit door, say: ‘Not tonight, please,’ and continue your logbook.” Your throat tightens. Still, you whisper, “Not tonight, please.” The knocking stops — immediately.You exhale in relief, until the CCTV feed flickers.Camera 7 — which points at that hallway — goes black. A few seconds later, the camera clicks back on. The chained door is now slightly open. You don’t investigate. You just keep writing. Rule 4: Between Midnight and 12:15 AM “Do not enter the sculpture hall. The statues walk during that time.” You laugh nervously reading that one. But when the museum clock chimes 12:00 AM, you feel the temperature drop. The motion sensors in the sculpture hall start flashing on your monitor — one by one.Something’s moving. You switch to live feed. The marble archer in the center of the room has shifted slightly. The next camera angle shows the statue now aiming its bow directly at the exit. Your chest tightens. The feed glitches, then goes blank. You stare at the blank screen until 12:16 AM, when the sensors finally stop flashing.When the feed returns, every statue stands still again — except the archer.Its bow now points directly at the camera. Rule 5: When Locking Up “If any artifact faces a different direction than before, leave immediately. You’re not supposed to see that.” It’s almost 2:00 AM. You begin your last walkthrough.The wax figures are still. The lights flicker softly. Everything seems normal. Until you reach Room 3, where the wax figure of the former curator stands.You remember him facing the glass display earlier.Now, he’s turned toward the door — facing you. You take a cautious step back. His wax lips seem slightly parted, and his glass eyes catch the faint glow of the security lights. Your radio hisses with static. A voice whispers through it: “Stay… you’re one of us now…” You run.Every light in the museum bursts on at once, illuminating hundreds of figures — all turned toward you. You don’t stop until you’re outside, gasping for air in the fog-covered parking lot. The Job That Never Ends You quit that same morning, handing your resignation to a confused manager who insists the position has been vacant for years.“There hasn’t been a night curator here since 2009,” she says softly.“But… we still find log entries every week.” That night, when you check your phone, you receive an email: Subject: Hollowvale Museum — Employment ConfirmationMessage: Shift starts at 9:30 PM. Don’t forget the mask. Your hands shake. You delete it.But another message appears instantly. “Not tonight, please.” SEO Insight: Why the Hollowvale Museum Story Works This story fits perfectly under job-related horror fiction, blending professional routine with paranormal danger — a subgenre that’s gaining rapid traction in search trends. The combination of job-related keywords and fear-driven storytelling helps attract both horror fans and job-seekers browsing for unique content. Using keywords like night curator job, museum horror story, night shift experience, and compiteter horror blog gives this piece strong SEO structure and broad reach. It follows the same format as your previous Rosewood Nursing Home article — making it ideal for building a “Night Shift Horror” series across your blog or YouTube channel. Why Readers Love Job-Based Horror Job horror stories strike a nerve because they twist normality into terror. The sense of responsibility, the loneliness of night work, and the slow buildup of dread resonate deeply with anyone who’s worked a quiet shift alone. Hollowvale Museum represents more than a haunted workplace — it symbolizes what happens when a job consumes your sanity. Readers stay hooked because they see themselves in the protagonist — someone just trying to do their job right… until the job starts working back. Final Thoughts: Some Rules Shouldn’t Be Broken Every workplace has rules — but not all of them are meant for safety. Some are written to keep something in. So if you ever find yourself working the night shift in a silent museum or hospital, remember this:Check your surroundings.Follow the rules.And if something knocks from a locked door… Night Shift at Rosewood Nursing Home: Don’t Break Rule Six The Haunting Night Shift at Blackridge Tunnel Station