Tale 03: Empty
Holly pounded on her car’s odometer, grunting a prayer that the infernal mechanism was just broken. Gas indicator arm was flushed along the bottom of the console.
Empty.
She twisted the key in the ignition again. Her car whined and sputtered until it suffocated to death. Holly cursed loudly and punched her steering wheel, her car letting out an indignant honk back at her.
Holly glanced at her watch. She had been on the road for hours, not daring to stop in hopes of bypassing the bustle of the Alloria’s Fringe Festival. Even from where she was sitting, on a road of desolation and disrepair, only a few blocks away from Alloria’s main gates, she could hear the chatter of the festival.
Holly peered at her rearview mirror nervously. No one was behind her.
She sighed before pushing her car door open and stepping onto the gravel street that was as empty as her gas tank. Dark trees with orange leaves lined the edges, fallen leaves decaying on the ground.
Down the street loomed a hotel. Vines crawled all over its brick façade, as though trying to contain it.
Holly leaned against her car. She had been pushing ninety miles per hour during remote stretches. She may have a good lead.
Holly grimaced at the hotel before going to the back of her car to retrieve a duffel bag. With the duffel bag securely clutched in her hands, she drifted toward the hotel.
#
The hotel’s wooden door creaked open from just a touch of Holly’s fingertips. She peeked inside, expecting drunk revelers from the festival who were too stingy to spring for money in Alloria’s downtown.
No one. Not even behind the dusty, wooden table with a sign "Be back in fifteen minutes" that Holly presumed was the reception desk.
Holly slipped into the room, eyeing the decor cautiously. A couch, perhaps once a brilliant red and now faded by time, sat to one corner. The wallpaper was water-stained. Non-descript clutter and mismatched furniture filled the room, as though unsure what identity to assume.
It was quiet--so quiet that Holly could hear her heart pounding, her whole body screaming for her to run.
In the corner of her eye, she saw movement. She turned to see a glass case with assorted knickknacks inside. She looked at her haggard reflection.
But something wasn’t quite right.
That wasn’t her face that peered back at her.
She stepped forward. Was it… a man’s? His mouth was open, his jaw dropping like a gaping maw.
The clock in the room rang. Holly jumped. She looked at the case. Her reflection looked back at her.
Her mind was playing tricks with her. She spent too many hours on the road and she’s growing delusional. She had to get the fuck out of here. She turned to leave before an idea sprung in her head.
The cash register.
She turned to the cash register–
“Can I help you?”
Holly jumped. An old woman now stood behind the reception desk, as though materialized from air. Her chin-length white hair was wavy. Piercing blue eyes peered at her from bifocal glasses. The woman’s mouth spread to a toothy smile, her head tilted to the side thoughtfully.
The woman chuckled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She pointed to her name tag. “My name is Tabitha. Would you like a room at our gorgeous Oasis Hotel?”
“Hello,” Holly said, eyeing the woman suspiciously. “Yes, a room would be great.”
“Our rate is $40 per night,” Tabitha said, folding her hands in front of her. “Normally I’d ask if you want the first or second floor, but our second floor is undergoing repairs and no one is allowed up there.”
Holly dug into her purse for her wallet and slid a few bills on the reception desk, gripping her duffel bag nervously as Tabitha rang the cash register. Holly darted her eyes around to avoid eye contact when the older woman flashed her another smile. Holly’s eyes also found and linger a few seconds too long on the cash register.
Tabitha’s hand crossed Holly’s vision, handing Holly change and a key with a faded keychain with the number eight scrawled on it. Tabitha smiled sweetly. “Enjoy your stay.” She gestured to a hallway. “Down this hall. Second door to the left.”
Holly murmured her thanks and slipped into the hallway, her eyes darting at the shadows that seemed to be watching her. She heard muffle voices as she passed rooms one and two. Angry voices–shouting and arguing. As Holly passed by, she heard a voice in the room whisper, “Shh, someone’s coming” before silence. Holly picked up her pace.
The door to room number five was ajar. Holly trained her eyes forward as she passed, trying to mind her own business and hoping others would do the same. But something in her peripheral vision made her body stiffen. Against her better sense, she turned her head.
A man sat at the edge of his bed. He was well-dressed, with an impeccable black suit, his hair was slicked back cleanly. A suitcase sat on the floor next to his feet.
And he just sat there. In complete darkness. He was on the edge of the bed, staring ahead of him at the TV. Not even turning to look at her as she slowed her steps when she noticed that the TV was off.
Holly craned her head, searching for what might have this man so enraptured.
But there was nothing.
Though Holly lingered at his door, the man didn’t turn, didn’t move. He continued to sit, transfixed on the blank TV screen.
Holly opened her mouth to call out, see if he was okay, before shutting her mouth and retreating. None of my business, Holly thought to herself hastily, as she sped up her pace, slipping her key into her room's doorknob and pushing the door open.
Holly flipped the light switch and the room was illuminated. The room was quaint–a bed, a TV, a bathroom. Just the essentials.
Holly dropped her duffel bag and flopped on the bed. She stared hard at the ceiling, wondering how she got here.
“I’d bury a body for her.”
Holly squeezed her eyes shut. Never did she think those words she cooed that day would come back to haunt her. Such innocent words, uttered to her best friend twenty years ago, when young Bella came into her life, beaming life and innocence.
And then the Universe cackled. How many?
Five, it turned out. Five bodies.
Holly remembered the face of the last body she buried–a man with close-cropped hair and a slight build, his face contorted and frozen in horror. She had shoveled the dirt over his face, but his face was seared into his mind. She had turned to Bella, who was also covered in grime and blood. Holly peered into Bella’s eyes, to try to understand what pushed Bella–sweet, sweet Bella–to stand over this unmarked grave in the isolated woods.
The corner of Bella’s mouth twitched to a half smile, almost apologetic. Almost. Holly’s stomach churned.
Holly held her hands to her face and turned them, searching for blood and dirt that didn’t seem to go away no matter how many times she washed her hands. She then rubbed her face and shut her eyes. She just had to make it across the country line and, with the safety of extradition, she’ll be free.
#
Holly awoke to a knock on her door. She groaned and pulled herself out of bed, goosebumps across her body as the hotel's cold air settled on her skin. She peered out the door's peep hole.
No one was there. Just an empty hallway.
Befuddled, Holly returned to her bed, pulling down the blankets so she could tuck herself in.
Another knock.
Holly walked back to the door and peered through the hole. No one again. Was some kid playing a prank on her?
She waited by her door, her hand on the door handle. When the knock came again, she twisted the handle and swung her door open.
In front of her was a man, with a slight build. And closed cropped hair.
Holly gasped. She recognized that face. His mouth was open, his eyes not focused, dirt all over his face.
How is this possible? She buried him! He was dead!
The man raised the axe over his head. As he brought it down, Holly bowed her head, resigned, and prayed it would be quick.
Holly bolted up in her bed, screaming until her throat was sore and scratchy. She brought up her hands, searching her body for cuts and finding it whole. Her skin and the bedsheets she fell asleep over were damp with sweat.
Holly took in several deep breaths, trying to calm her heart hammering inside her chest. What a shitty nightmare!
A knock on her door.
Holly froze. What the fuck?
Not to be fucked with in this reality, she shouted, “Who is it?”
A pause. “Hey, hon,” Tabitha said from behind the door. “I’m just checking to see if you’re okay. I heard an awful lot of screaming. I knocked several times and you didn’t answer.”
Holly stared at the door in disbelief. “I’m fine,” she replied breathlessly. “Thank you.”
“Okay, hon,” Tabitha said. Holly could practically hear her smiling from the other side. “Just let me know if you need anything.”
Holly listened to the muffled footsteps moving away from her door. She rubbed her face and head to the bathroom. The faucets creaked as she twisted the knobs inside the shower. Water, brown at first, sprinkled down, almost a trickle.
As Holly showered, she continued to scrub her hands until they were red and raw. There was no dirt, no filth, no evidence. Yet she still couldn't feel them clean.
Thump, thump, thump.
Holly sucked in a breath. A sound came from above her. Footsteps? Holly turned the knob to bring the shower to just droplets and paused, listening. A few seconds later, the noise came again.
Thump, thump, thump!
It sounded as though someone was running upstairs, feet pounding on the floor. Tabitha’s words from earlier came to mind. Wasn’t the second floor under construction?
Holly dismissed the thought, hastily stepping out of the shower and drying herself with the hotel’s provided off-white towel. She slipped back into the filthy clothes she wore before, as she didn’t have time to pack spare clothes.
She reentered her bedroom–and immediately screamed.
A young woman stood next to her TV. Just stood there. She stared back at Holly intensely. Her long, black hair fell limply over pale white skin. Her lips were spread with a wide smile.
“What are you doing here?” Holly asked incredulously. “This is my room!”
The woman just continued to stand there. And smile. The smile was plastered on her face.
"What do you want?" Holly pleaded, her voice raising.
But the woman wouldn’t respond. She just smiled.
I have to get the fuck out of here! But that meant passing by this woman who would not just leave!
Holly balled her fists, ready to swing them if needed. She pressed her body against the wall, giving the woman a wide berth, not letting the woman out of her sight.
The woman didn’t move. She just turned her head, tracking Holly. And still fucking smiling!
Once Holly was around the woman, she made a dash toward the hallway. Her feet pounded against the faded red carpet floor until they reached the threshold of the lobby.
Holly spun around. The woman was now outside of Holly’s room, looking down the hallway at Holly.
Still smiling.
“What do you want?” Holly cried, her voice hoarse, muffled and unable to reach the ceiling. Is this a nightmare?
The woman stood impossibly still. Dead still.
Then, suddenly, the woman ran toward her, her arms flailing, seemingly moving in impossible angles! The smile was still plastered on her face, this time with her eyebrows and eyes opened wide and contorted.
Holly screamed. She wanted to run, but her body was frozen. She tripped on her feet when backing up. She raised her arms up protectively as the woman closed the distance between them.
Then… nothing.
Holly lowered her arms and looked around her.
The woman was nowhere to be seen.
How was this possible? Did the woman disappear into another room? Where was she hiding? Is she just unwell?
Holly didn’t care to find out. She scrambled to her feet and headed toward the door until she remembered she didn’t have her car keys.
And the duffel bag.
At that moment, the front door opened and Tabitha came in, carrying a pail and a mop and muttering to herself.
Relief flooded Holly’s body as she ran to Tabitha, who looked up at her in fright. In a hurried voice, Holly said, “There’s a weird woman. She will not stop smiling at me”
“Where, hon?” Tabitha asked, her voice somewhere between concern for and wariness at Holly.
Unable to articulate in words, Holly just pointed to the hallway, her hand trembling.
Tabitha pulled off the rubber gloves that she was wearing to pull her glasses down so she can peer down the hallway. She turned back to Holly. “I don’t see anyone.”
“She must be hiding now.”
“Hon–”
“Could you please accompany me back to my room?” Holly pleaded. “I need to leave. Right now. And she might be back in my room.” When Tabitha opened her mouth, as though she was about to protest, Holly’s lips trembled as she begged, “Pleased?’
Tabitha grunted, looking down at the pail. “Can you wait here just five more minutes? I have to go upstairs to fix a leak before it turns into a waterfall.” Before Holly could protest, Tabitha headed up the staircase next to the reception desk.
Five minutes? Hell. No.
Holly sucked in her breath, gathering her courage, before stalking down the hallway, her head turning this way and that in case the smiling woman was to appear again.
Room five’s door was still open. Holly peered inside, wondering if the woman was now harassing that man inside.
No woman. But the man inside was now on the floor, his body trembling, his hands over his head, like he was cowering.
“Sir, are you okay?” Holly called out hoarsely. Was he another victim of the smiling woman?
But the man ignored her, seemingly in his own world. She could hear he was making some noises–sobbing? Guttural chanting? Holly squeezed her hands to her ears.
“Ignore him.”
Holly spun around to see another man in front of him. He walked ahead of her, toward the end of the hallway where her room was, beckoning to her to follow him. He had brown hair and pale skin, like someone who didn’t go out in the sun often. He had a huskier built and stood with a bit of a slouch.
But, more importantly, he wasn’t chanting nonsense or smiling like a devil. Holly still didn’t trust him, but he felt like the only one aware of her plight.
“What’s wrong with him?” Holly asked, her head turning toward room five.
“I have no clue,” the man said. “But you should get out of here. I don’t like this feeling I’m getting.”
Yeah, no shit! “I need something from my room first.” She turned to leave.
“Have you seen a woman named Rowan?”
“Rowan?” Holly stopped, peering curiously at the man. “No. Who is he?”
“She,” the man said, “is my fiancée.” The man’s face fell. “I thought she might show up today.”
“I’m sorry,” Holly said, her voice apologetic but her body itching to get out of this wretched hotel. “I haven’t seen a Rowan. I would stay and help you find her but I need to get the hell out of here.” She started moving back to her room. “There are some really fucked up people around here.”
The duffel bag was thankfully still in her room. She slung it around her shoulder, gave the room one last quick glance, before hurrying back down the hallway.
The fiancé was rooted at the same spot she had left him. Holly said, “I hope you find your Rowan.”
Holly reached up to rest her hand on the man’s shoulder comfortingly. But her hand met air, passing right through him. She clutched her hand to her chest and took a step back. “What is wrong with you?”
Her eyes ran up and down his body. That was when she saw it–a large hole in his stomach.
“Wait…” the man said.
But Holly was already running.
Suddenly, the man from room five stepped into her path. Holly looked at his face for the first time. She screamed.
He was the man that tried to kill her in her dreams! The man she had buried.
An axe rested on his side.
The man from room five ran toward her. She stumbled backwards, her head hitting the hallway wall with a sickening crack.
And everything went black.
#
“You okay?”
Holly stirred at the voice. She opened her eyes slowly, a blurry image becoming more focused.
The fiancé was crouched over her, concern on his face.
Holly felt too faint to run. Instead, she pulled herself into a sitting position, groaning as she did. “What happened to the man with the axe?”
“He’s gone now,” the fiancé said. He held up a hand, showing Holly a sword. The sword was black as night, its edge thin and sharp.
Holly sucked in a breath, inching away from the man.
But the fiancé placed the sword down to his side, his eyes scanned the hallway. “But not for long.” He shook his head. “I didn’t think it would attack you.”
"It?"
The fiancé stood and held an outstretched hand to Holly. Reflexively, she took his hand. It was only after fiancé helped her to her feet that she realized he was solid now. “How am I able to...?”
The fiancé only looked away. Holly looked at her hands. She felt different in a way that she couldn’t put it into words. Her body felt cold and empty. She felt part of this world, but not, like somehow adjacent.
So this was death.
“It was a demon,” the fiancé said, breaking the silence, his eyes on the floor and unable to meet hers. He fixed his jacket over his stomach, where there was still a large hole right through his being. He looked back at Holly, who was silently still processing her situation. “I was too late to stop him. There are a few that appear here, though this particular demon seemed keenly interested in you. Perhaps something from your past that manifested itself.”
Holly’s stomach sank. Five bodies.
“Shit,” the fiancé said. His eyes were locked onto something over her shoulder.
Holly turned around. The man–no, demon!-- from room five appeared again. This time, Holly could see the creature for what it really was. It towered over them, its head pressed against the roof. Its mouth hung open, saliva dripping to the floor, rows and rows of sharp teeth protruding through its maw. This being didn’t have flesh; no, whatever covered its surface was not flesh. Sulfur assailed Holly’s nose.
“What does he want?” was all Holly could utter.
“Us,” the fiancé replied, his face pale.
Holly looked at the fiancé in disbelief. “Can he even do anything to us anymore? We’re already dead!”
“He torments both living and dead.”
As if to prove the fiancé’s point, the demon launched itself onto the fiancé, covering the length of the hallway in one swift movement. The fiancé swung the black sword but his aim was wild. He toppled to the ground, the demon crushing him from above. The black sword clattered to the ground.
The fiancé struggled against the demon, managing to keep his hands on the demon’s face, as the demon snapped at his twisted face. “Help me!”
Holly stood planted at her spot, overwhelmed by the demon’s sheer mass. How could she take down this creature? She knew she was no stranger to monumental tasks–didn’t she bury bodies?
No, that was easy. The monumental task would have been to turn over Bella.
Now it was time to face her demon.
She swooped down to pick up the sword. She raised the weapon over her head and brought it down on the demon’s neck, slicing its head cleanly off its shoulders.
The demon’s body and head plopped to the ground. The fiancé heaved the body away for him and scrambled to the side. The demon’s body and head dissolved into a bubbling mass.
The fiancé staggered to his feet, breathless. “Thank you.”
Holly was at a loss for words. The black sword in her hand now dripped with demon blood on the floor. She looked at her hands, which were splattered with demon blood. “Now what?”
“There will be others,” the man said. He held out his hand. “My name is Vince by the way.”
Holly shook his hand. “Holly.”
“I try to protect the people in this hotel,” Vince explained. “A lot of bad beings seem to appear in this place.” His eyes dropped again. “I’m sorry I failed you.”
“The only person who failed me,” Holly began, “is me.” She smiled sadly before taking in a breath–a reflex, perhaps? She looked around the hotel. “Keeping creatures from the underworld at bay seems like a huge task to do alone.” She smirked. “Looks like you could use some help.”
“Is that why you’re still here?” Vince asked.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Holly confessed, though her body felt otherwise. She knew exactly what she had to do.
Five bodies.
Vince grinned. “I wouldn’t mind the company.”
Holly’s eyes strayed to Vince’s stomach, where the hole was. She could literally see right through him. “What happened to you? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“A story for another time,” Vince said with a chuckle and wry smile. “Seems like we have a lot of that now.”
Holly nodded. Wariness swept over her body, but with equal measure of resolve: she knew what she must do.
Her penance and atonement began now. For each soul she buried, she will save one in this wretched hotel.
#
Rowan held the collar of her jacket over her nose as she knelt over the black puddle on the floor and wall. The puddle was thick and bubbled, and almost resembled the shape of a person, with the rise and fall of a head, shoulders, arms, and legs. A duffel bag full of cash sat discarded next to the puddle. Further down the hall were two more puddles–a large puddle and a small puddle–different in texture and shade than the first, with what looked like scorch marks next to it.
“What do you think it is?” Tabitha asked from where she stood several feet away.
“I have no idea,” Rowan confessed, straightening up. “I put a call to forensics to get a sample.”
Tabitha led Rowan back to the lobby and into the manager’s office behind the reception desk. She urged Rowan to take a seat in front of their security camera system, which consisted of six camera angles, the hardware twenty years older and footage much grainer than the Majesty Hotel.
With some guidance from Tabitha on navigating the equally antiquated software, they rewinded the footage to last night. Rowan watched as Holly entered her room. She watched Holly run out of her room in fear. She watched Holly talk to Tabitha, and Tabitha dismissed her.
“I don’t know why such terrible things happen here,” Tabitha said, after they silently watched the footage for a few more minutes. She tutted softly to herself. Then her eyes went wide, apologetic. “I’m sorry, hon. I forgot…”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Tabitha pressed her lips. She asked softly, “It’s been a year now, hasn’t it?”
Exactly one year, Rowan thought to herself as she clutched her jacket, a single rose tucked inside her inner pocket. She simply nodded.
Tabitha gently placed her hand on Rowan’s shoulder, comforting. “I’ll be in the next room if you need anything, hon.” She drifted back into the lobby, quietly shutting the door as she did.
Rowan glanced over her shoulder. She pressed rewind. And then play.
She watched as Holly headed back to her room. After being spooked by something in room five, she appeared to be talking to someone, talking animatedly with her hands and arms articulating to someone in front of her.
But no one was there.
At some point, Holly disappeared off-screen from the camera, reappearing a minute later with her duffel bag of money slung on her shoulder. She seemed to still be in conversation with an invisible entity.
Rowan stared intently at the footage at that moment. She let it play for a few seconds, paused, and then rewind. She played it over again and again, but she could have sworn Holly said: Rowan.
Holly then raised her hand up and then seemingly let it drop. A second later, she had looked at her hand, mystified, before turning suddenly toward the lobby and then running back toward the direction of her room and off-screen again, toward the puddles.
And she never reappeared.
Rowan reviewed the footage several more times before venturing down the first floor hallway. It was quiet. Almost…calm? Rowan had cleared the handful of hotel patrons this morning. Other than Rowan and Tabitha, not a single soul was here.
Rowan slipped into the second floor, which was in a state of disarray and neglect. She walked precariously around overturned furniture and peeked behind every door and into every nook and cranny.
But her searching was to no avail. Holly was not here.
Rowan trudged back down the rickety stairs. She stopped at room six. She took the rose out of her pocket and placed it at the doorstep. To Rowan, there was no heaven nor hell. But wherever Vince was, she hoped he was happy.
A soft breeze caressed Rowan’s cheek as she headed back to the lobby. She halted in her steps, then turned slowly, expecting to see him.
But no one was there. The hallway was empty.
Author’s Note
10/31/2022
I may come back and tweak this story in the future, as I was struggling with my prose. I failed at time management, as I really wanted to get this story out by October 31st. This was the best I could muster and I was determined to meet this deadline, come hell or high water or really poor prose.
I also edited Tale 1: Murder in the Festival! to update Vince’s manner of death.
A lot of this inspiration came from when I had Buzzfeed: Unsolved Mysteries in the background. I love Ryan and Shane and their passion and irreverence. Check out their Buzzfeed series as well as their new Watcher series. Parts of this was inspired by their episode The Creepy Murder in Room 1046.
The smiling woman I got inspiration from the Smile movie trailers. So. Creepy.
Writing horror is an… “interesting” experience. I definitely don’t think it’s my cup of tea! Way too dark and fucked up, in an already dark and fucked up world! I think, if I do dabble in it again, I want to go with something more light-hearted. I’ll confess I tossed all elements and the kitchen sink into this.
Some elements I’ll preemptively say that I need to work on are better descriptions, understanding Tabitha’s personality, and prose.
Anyways, onward to more light-hearted adventures! Happy Halloween and hope you enjoyed my story