The Curator opened the stood doors and made his way down the hallway. Turning his head left and right as he sees the pictures on the walls. Having a smirk on his face the whole time. When he got to a certain point of the hallway, he stopped and pulled out a compass. He looked down at it and then made his way to another set of doors. He opened those as well and he was right in his repository. He took off his jacket and hat and hung them on a hanger near the door. He adjusts the cuffs on his sleeves and looked into the fireplace. Placing his hands behind his back. He then walked over to a bookshelf where his many death logs were recorded. He pulled one from the shelf and started to flip through the pages.