Short Story- Skeletal Fingers

My footsteps echoed off the walls. Thirty years on the job and never getting tired of the silent hallways. The exhibits stared out of their dusty cases and time ticked on. Just like any other night.
I double checked all of the locks on the display cases and then made my way upstairs. I reached the window and stared out at London’s skyline. The busy city was a complete contrast to the atmosphere in the museum. With a sigh I opened the window and braced myself as the cold air hit me. I noticed a figure below darting across the street and I gasped as the wind rushed through the museum and whistled through the walls. The earth seemed to shake beneath me and the wind got stronger and pushed against my body. The strength of it surprised me and I was forced to close the window again. I turned and made my way to my office. I needed to relax and get some coffee. I was shaking as I turned around and jumped as I seemed to hear quick footsteps from below me. I forced myself not to panic as I rushed to my office.
I stepped inside and threw myself down on the chair. I swung my feet onto the desk and tried to relax. Big Ben chimed in the distance. Twelve strokes- midnight. I gave up fighting my fatigue and closed my eyes, allowing myself to drift slowly into unconsciousness. I can’t remember what time I woke up but when I did so, I wasn’t alone.
The blood coursed through my veins as the skeletal hand clasped around my wrist. I gasped as the cool, metallic-like bones made contact with my warm flesh. My desperate breath escaped my mouth in a ravaged gasp. As the grip tightened, my vision burred and swam in front of me. I forced myself to stay focussed and strained to stay conscious as I tried fruitlessly to free myself. I felt for anything that I could use to defend myself but there was nothing. The skeleton’s grin seemed to widen as its other hand reached for my throat. I closed my eyes.
Suddenly, the door flew open and a girl, no older than fourteen, ran in with a knife. She threw herself at the skeleton and sliced his head clean off his shoulders. In the same move she kicked the head at my window and the glass seemed to shatter in slow motion as the skull landed on the pavement with a sickening crack. Finally I looked up at the girl with wide eyes.
She met my gaze and her expression twisted into a glare, “What the hell did you do that for?!” She yelled.
I flinched involuntarily, “W-what are y-you talking about?” I stammered and her expression turned acidic.
“You just brought back the whole museum from the dead and you’re telling me you didn’t know?” She sneered.
I shook my head, “I’m sorry...I really have no idea what-“
“Spare me”, she spat, “You’ve just put a death sentence over the nation’s heads; because of you, there’s going to be a war”.
“Between who?” I breathed.
Her expression set, “The living and the dead”.
That’s when the world stopped.