Neanderthal Museum

On the third floor of an unnamed concrete storage space, there’s the Neanderthal Museum. There are no walls in the museum splitting off the attractions. The different spaces are instead split off by red curtains and small paper signs. Some of the rooms would have spinal cords suspended from the ceiling, others would have photos of partially assembled skulls, and others would have reconstructions of towering severely mutated prehistoric primates. Three disembodied skulls float through the hallways of the museum, always staying in the boundaries of the curtains. They’re chasing after a boy who woke up there. Something about the skeletons around him set off a primal fear, and he’s trying to find a safe place to hide from the morbid displays. He doesn’t think to look behind any of the curtains until he reaches one of the farthest walls, finding a fire escape door. Running out of it carelessly, he falls from the metal staircase outside to the concrete parking lot below. It was daytime outside. His bones were carried back in to be made a part of the museum.