Night at the kriegsmuseum part 2

>I stand still, unsure of what to do. The best place to start would be the security office, though I don’t have any keys. It’d be best to check anyway.
>The office is just next to the entryway, with a mirrored window facing the foyer. Some master class detective work on my part reveals that the keys are in the door, with a little tag that says “for comrade Anon”.
>I gently open the door.
>Within the office is a cluttered L shaped desk with one side on the window wall and the other on the far wall, a wall full of monitors and a few bottles of vodka. I take a seat in the worn swivel chair, looking at the screens’ CCTV feeds.
>Easily a hundred of them. I can see the whole museum, the tanks, the aircraft, the medieval section, the hundreds of glass cases containing every weapon imaginable. Am I supposed to just keep watch though these? It seems so.
>After an hour of monitoring the monitors and much chair spinning I decide to go on a patrol. I grab the Maglite and the office keys and begin my rounds in the massive, dark building.
>The allied tanks stand in perfect rank and line, as usual. Though at night the scene seems to feel more like a graveyard. I work through the section in a zigzag pattern, going down one line and coming back up the next line. It certainly does feel like a graveyard, with tanks in place if headstones.
>I walk around a Churchill and enter the Russian section, eventually passing the T-34. A thought crosses my mind as I pass it.
 “Hold on” I say to the tank “didn’t Ivan say something about an instruction book with you?”
>I climb onto the right side of the vehicle, entering through the commander’s hatch. I duck under the gun breech and take a look around. A small notebook with the words ‘BOOK OF INSTRUCTION FOR GUARDING, BY IVAN’ rests on the opposite wall of the tight space.
>After grabbing the book, looking through all the periscopes and gunner’s sight and pretending to be a commander at the battle of Kursk, I exit the vehicle and continue walking. I’ll give the book a read once I get back to the office.
>I finish my zigzag through the allies and move on through the large roller door to the next room, Axis tanks.
I perform the same patrol pattern as with the allies, though this time a bit slower because I hit my head on a Jagdpanther. I had barely begun my route when the muzzle brake suddenly filled my vision.
>A bout of multilingual swearing later and still checking the brokenness of my nose, I inspect the offending jagdpanther. Only to find the thing’s barrel ended half a metre to my left. It couldn’t have… no that’s just silly. Continuing my path I begin to hear what seems to be whispers, really helping the graveyard feel.
>I shine my torch around, looking for the source of the noise, maybe a bird or something. As I get deeper into the axis lines the whispers gain clarity and volume.
“Who is zis untermensch?”, “Vhere is ze Russian?”, “Hehe muzzle brake face”, “Shut up you idiots, he’ll hear!”
>Is this museum haunted by smug German women?
>The whispers, which should and would have made anyone nope out at this point, only served to annoy me. This annoyance eventually turned to mild rage after being called ‘Untermensch’ for the fiftieth time.
>I round on the nearest and most recent source of the insult, a Sturmtiger, and yell “SHUT UP YOU FAT PIECE OF SHIT” to the offending vehicle.
>I hear a collective gasp and a few “oh nien”s from the voices before they fall silent.
>The Sturmtiger’s 380mm gun swivels slowly to face me and emits the clearest voice I’ve heard so far  “Vhat did you just say?”
>I don’t know what just happened or what that is, but I know I must run.
>The Sturmtiger’s engine roars to life as I take off running.
“WHO IST EIN FAT PIECE OF SHIT YOU MOTHERFUCKER?!” the Sturmtiger screams as it unleashes a hail of 7.92mm from its machine gun.
>Wait what? The gun shouldn’t be loaded! The trail of bullets passes narrowly to my left, strangely leaving no craters on the floor.
>I look over my shoulder and see the Sturmtiger closing the distance and the machine gun zeroing in on me. Another hail of fire sends two rounds into my back.
>Jesus Christ It hurts like a bitch! But I’m not dead so that’s something, hopefully that means that the tank’s ammunition is non-lethal, though I’m not sticking around for the 380mm to take a shot at me.
>As if on cue a shockwave blasts past me, knocking me off my feet and exploding between two King Tigers, prompting angry German screeching from them both and sending my torch skittering across the floor.
>I quickly jump to my feet to find myself face to face with a massive person in strange armour. She grabs the front of my shirt and lifts me straight off my feet, I can practically see her eyes burning with rage behind the vision slit
“WHO IST PIECE OF SHIT NOW?”
>she draws back her steel clad fist and punches me with the force of a 380mm round. I fly down the past the remaining tanks in the line, landing heavily on my back.
>Everything hurts. I painfully sit up, wincing as I go. Down the line I see the giant armoured woman who, from the boxiness of her armour and massive rocket launcher, I can assume is the Sturmtiger.
>She is currently distracted by two smaller tank women whom the Sturmtiger is throwing around like toys. A hand grabs my shoulder, I turn to see a normal sized woman in thin-looking armour looking down at me through her vision slit.
“ve should get going before Big Sister Sturmtiger gets a hold of you”
“a-alright”
>she takes my hand and we begin running. Suddenly the space around me has been replaced with the interior of a tank. I look around confused, I faintly hear sound coming through the radio set and put it on.
“oh gute! You put it on by yourself, Hallo, I am panzer II und I vill be your escape vehicle tonight. Now hold onto somezing because zis is going to get rough”
I brace myself against the tight wall of the vehicle and glance down to the driver’s seat. The pedals and sticks were moving by themselves!
>While not the strangest thing to happen to me tonight, that award goes to getting screamed at and shot by the sturmtiger, but still… is that music?
>The panzer II accelerates as I spot a stereo sliding around on the floor blasting Eurobeat. I’m thrown against the wall as the machine drifts around something.
>I hear a distant boom followed by a not-so-distant boom as the Sturmtiger remembers that I exist. The turret rotates and lets loose a volley of 20mm at the screeching assault gun.
>Finally we get to the door back to the allied section.
>Much to the tracks’ displeasure, the panzer II drifts through the doors too.
>As we pass along the allies I hear a few surprised yells of “it’s the bloody krauts!” “what in tarnation?” and “Germans! Run away!” coming from the accents you’d expect them to.
>The Panzer II screeches to a halt and disappears from underneath me. I fall onto my back. We have reached my office intact.
>A blonde girl wearing a Wehrmacht uniform offers me her hand. I take it and she hoists me to my feet.
“Um, Thanks for getting me out of there, I’m Anon”
“I’m ze Panzer II, you can call me Anna” she smiles enthusiastically
“Thanks for the help Miss Anna”
“Anytime, now I must go help calm down Sturmtiger before she decides to invade ze allied sector.  Ade, Anon”
“See you around”
>Anna turns and the panzer II reappears and speeds off, pumping Eurobeat as she drifts around the corner, out of sight. I barely make it to the chair before I collapse. Jesus Christ this place is something else. I stare the now-roughed up BOOK OF INSTRUCTION and flip to the first page.