The Haunted Halls (18 page)

Chapter Two

“Hello,” Timothy said. The two girls smiled.

“Hi,” the redhead on the left said. The brunette beside her, giggled as they stopped.

“My name’s Tim. Weren’t you at the pool yesterday?” He looked at the redhead.

“Ah, I don’t think so. We just got here. Sorry.” 

“Oh, well it must have been another beautiful girl who looked like you.”

“Yeah, must have been.” She smirked to her friend. “Well, we were on our way down to the pool for a dip. Care to join us?”

“No, no. I had something else in mind.” He gazed at the brunette next to her like she was welcoming him into her bed.  He watched the shorter, dark-haired girl go from smiling to tightlipped and fidgety.

“Okay, well we’re going down, so if you change your mind–” Red began.

“No,” he interrupted. “You’re not. You’re not going anywhere.”

The redhead pulled her towel up over her chest. “Sorry, Tim, but yeah, we are.”

He stepped in their path placing his hand on the wall, blocking their route.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Red said.

“Come on, let’s go.” The brunette yanked on her friend’s arm and pulled her back the way they came.

Timothy reached out and grabbed Red’s other arm.  “Hey,” he smiled at the brunette and flashed his charcoal eyes, “let’s see who gets to get their wish.” 

“Hey,” Red screamed. Timothy punched her in the face, dropping her to the floor unconscious. The brunette took off running.

The lights in the hallway flickered like strobe lights at a rock concert as the whimpering girl stumbled down the corridor. Just before reaching the elevators, a picture of the Maine State House flew free from the wall, smashing her over the head and knocking her feet out from under her. Timothy watched her face bounce off the floor.

He dragged Red into Eric’s room and then retrieved the brunette.

The rain was still blowing into the room from the broken window he’d thrown Eric through as the brunette opened her eyes. “Good morning, Sunshine,” Timothy said. He watched from the room’s second bed as she looked around the room. Her eyes went wide. “You scream and I’ll tear pretty little Red over here’s eyes out.” Red sat slumped against the bed from her spot on the floor; the bruise next to her eye was already purple. Timothy stroked the unconscious girl’s hair.

The brunette cried as she shook her head. “What do you want?”

He rose up from the corner of the other bed, smacking Red’s cheek with the back of his hand. Red blinked her eyes, raising a hand to protect her from his. He looked over the brunette’s bikini-clad body and said, “I can think of a couple things.”

…..

Sarah stalked down the first floor hall glancing around, searching for something.  She stopped by the pool room. A couple and their two children splashed around inside. The two little blond kids played in the shallow end while the adults treaded water in the deep. Sarah placed a hand against the glass. Frost quickly formed beneath her touch. She drifted back to a memory of her own childhood.  If only she could have had such enjoyment. Her past was tarnished by an egocentric, perverted father and his filthy whore of a fiancée.

“Hey,” a voice said, bringing her back to the pool room window. “Did you still need me to come up and check that A/C unit?” It was the girl, Rhiannon, from the front desk. Sarah pulled her hand from the frosty glass, placing her back against the cool surface.

“Actually, yeah, I have some errands to run right now. Do you need me in the room to check it out?”

“Not if you don’t mind me being in there when you’re not,” Rhiannon said.

“Great, why don’t you go ahead and do that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, I’m not the type of girl who gets all freaked out about her possessions. I’ll check in with you at the desk when I get back.” Sarah wore her best normal person smile.

“Okay, I’m not promising results,” Rhiannon said, “but I’ll see if it’s something I’ve dealt with before or if we just need to switch you to another room.”

Sarah’s smile came easy as she thought of Kenneth. “Whatever you need to do to get it resolved is fine by me. I’ll see you in a bit?”

“Sure.”

Sarah glanced over her shoulder; the ice was gone. She nodded at the front desk girl and walked toward the lobby pretending she had someplace else to be. She heard the stairwell door close behind her and thought of Kenneth awaiting his prize.

Chapter Three

Kenneth stepped into the downpour, letting it wash over him. He glanced over at the broken body of his nemesis–just as he thought
she
had not cared. Quite the contrary actually, she seemed pleased with his act of revenge. His smile faded as he wondered what her plans were for him. After tonight, would he too become expendable? He shook the thought from his head and ran to clean up Eric’s crooked carcass.

After dragging the body behind the trees, following her orders not to bother with burying it, he brushed his hands on his pant legs and headed back inside–his reward for being a good boy would be waiting for him.

…..

Rhiannon reached the top of the stairs and turned down the hallway. The corridor, finally calm and peaceful–no naked people running from room to room, no crying babies, no odd complaints about voices coming from unoccupied rooms–offered Rhiannon a moment of quiet, welcomed solace. Gone, at least for the moment, were the various fears induced by the last thirty or so hours.

Approaching the door to room 209, she noticed something–the picture of the State House was gone. A cursory glance around the hall and the little area before the elevator told her what she already knew–college kid shenanigans. Happened every weekend they stayed. Two weeks ago, a group of eighteen and nineteen-year-old camp counselors stayed. The hotel had to replace the portrait of famed Maine adventurer (she still wasn’t sure what an “adventurer” was) Tom Frost that had been hanging in the hall for years–someone had drawn a semen-spewing dick in front of his mouth. They also had to throw out the plant that used to sit next to the Pepsi machine–a guest told her and Kurt that she’d seen one of the boys stumble over and urinate in it. They usually fucked with things on the second floor where there was less of a chance of being caught by one of the desk agents. Typical crap. Most of the college kids had departed this morning; the few remaining stragglers were due out tomorrow.

Tomorrow.
For some reason the thought felt empty. She was at the door to room 209 before she could ponder the depressing feeling further. The girl, Sarah, had said to go in. She couldn’t recall whether she said she was alone or not.  Rhiannon knocked. “Front desk?”

No answer. She pulled her master key and opened the door.

…..

Kenneth watched his prize walk down the hall.

Shit.

He didn’t want to fuck this up, didn’t want to end up like the big guy. He moved like a ninja, coming up on her swift and silent, ducking in the space by the elevators as she reached the room. He watched her, waited for her to crack the door and then…

…..

Cold air rushed out from within the room just as wet hands grabbed and shoved Rhiannon from behind. She spun around to find Kenneth McGowan leering at her from the doorway. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she said, holding back the fear tracing her spine like the tip of a blade. “You can’t be in here.”

“I can be in here. In fact, I was told to come here by the girl staying in this room.”

“I don’t think so. If you don’t get out of here, I’m going to call the police.”

“Oh no…” He held his hands up to his mouth feigning cowardice.  His pale skin dripped mud to the floor of the freezing room. The hungry look in his beady eyes covered her flesh with invisible maggots. She watched him turn and twist the bolt on the door. He turned back toward her and said, “Now, I want you to know that I won’t kill you if you don’t make me.”

Rhiannon backed away trying to think of a way out. She glanced at the window over her shoulder.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” he said, beginning his approach.

“Stay the fuck away from me!” She eyeballed the phone by the bed.

“Ah yes, you were going to call the police…” He nodded toward the phone. “Go on.” It was like he was reading her thoughts. A bad feeling crept over her already anxious mood–this wasn’t the same quiet guy that checked-in [however many] days ago. He was different. “You have no idea,” he said. “I want you to meet
her
. I think she’ll give you to me if I ask.”

“Who?”

“The Ice Queen. She’s been waiting for us, for this moment. You’re going to be a part of something special.”

Rhiannon needed to get out, and fast. Trying to act, not think, she rushed him.

He grabbed her as she plowed into him and they fell to the floor. He wrapped his arms around her legs. With his nose inches from her crotch, he started sniffing at her like a dog as she struggled against his clammy grasp.

“I can play rough, too,” he said.

“Fuck you.” She sat up and cracked her boney fists in a flurry of quick strikes to his face. Blood seeped from a cut beside his eye, but he continued to smile through the barrage of her tiny fists. She wailed away even harder, ignoring the pain in her knuckles, letting the urgency open fire. The sting of her knuckle splitting open as she made contact with one of his front teeth caused her to pull her hand back. Blood flowed from the wound.

He laughed, releasing her and rising to his feet.

“Why don’t you go ahead and start screaming,” he said, touching the gash she had made on his face and spitting out the tooth she had knocked loose. “I think I’d like to hear that pretty mouth of yours roar.”

She scrambled back to the door, spinning and grabbing for the knob. His foot caught her square in the back. Sliding down the door, gritting her teeth, she refused to give this fuck-hole the satisfaction of her cries–she feared what might lie ahead. He stepped closer and she launched at him again, driving her bloody fist up into his balls.

“Oomph.” He clutched his crotch and dropped to his knees.

She turned for the door again. She screamed, surprised and pissed as he yanked her hair. She spiraled back into the room as he flung her away from the exit. Hitting the corner of the bed, she bounced off the mattress and hit the floor.

“I knew you’d be feisty,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t turned on–” His speech was cut off by the lamp from the TV stand nailing him between the eyes. Stumbling backward, reaching for his face, she launched the lamp from the desk at him.

“Fuck!”

“You wanna hear me scream?” Rhiannon grabbed the microwave from the corner of the desk and charged at him. “Arrrgghhh!” She unleashed, rushing and swinging the appliance at his face.

“Not this time, bitch.” He grabbed the microwave and pulled it from her grip. Before she could react, he swung back around and nailed her between the shoulders, dropping her to the floor. She reached a hand behind her, moaning as she rolled on the ground. She knew she’d fucked up.

Kenneth threw the appliance down and kneeled next to her, grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back until they were face-to-face. His breath was a mix of rotten hamburger and shit. “I know you think I’m ugly and you would rather be dead than lie down with me, but if you give me a chance, I bet I can fuck my way into your heart.”

She spit into his face. “Eat shit, you fucking faggot.”

He let the spittle slowly crawl down his cheek then shook his head. “You shouldn’t have called me that.” Yanking her head back farther, he slammed her, face-first, into the floor. Her nose exploded on impact, her head swam to stay above the flood of stars swirling behind her eyes.

Kenneth stroked Rhiannon’s dark locks. In spite of a valiant effort put forth from the rebellious girl, he was enjoying his small victory. Gazing over the softer edges of the tough little thing, he moaned thinking of what he was about to do. Turning her over, he scooped her up, cradling her in his arms. She was his promised reward, and this time, there was no Eric, no Uncle Wes, and no son of a bitch step-father to ruin his moment. Laying her down on the bed, he pressed his lips to hers. She tasted like mint and honey. Slowly undoing her button-up work shirt, and gently spreading the fabric to expose a pink bra patterned with black roses, he kissed between what little cleavage she had. He moved to her slacks, unfastening them and pulling the dark polyester down over her thighs and slipping them over her sneakers.  He ripped his damp t-shirt off, tossing it behind him and began unbuttoning his jeans. A fever burned within him as he grew hard. The TV at his back suddenly came to life. The sound of white noise filled the room.

Chapter Four

With a hand under his jaw, fingers tapping his bristled cheeks, legs shaking like an unstable washing machine, Jeff stared out the window as Lee drove down Route 5. All the books, all the movies he’d either read or seen; nothing had prepared him for this. He felt like an idiot that would fit perfectly into a Wes Craven film. He told Lee he would help him; he was only going in to check on Meghan, and if she was all right, he would make sure he got her and Rhiannon out. This jerk could use his untouchable basket of voodoo if he was up for it, but Jeff wasn’t fucking stupid. He was more on the get in and get, and get as far away as possible plan.

“Do you see that?” Lee’s voice broke through Jeff’s thoughts. He couldn’t see much of anything past the hammering rain pounding the windshield.

“What? I don’t see–”

Lee slowed the vehicle.

“What are you doing?”

“There’s something in the road.”

Jeff saw her, but could not believe his straining eyes. Meghan Murphy stood in the middle of the road, soaked to the bone, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and panties. Lee brought the car to a full stop twenty feet from her. Jeff reached for the door.

Lee grabbed his arm. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I know her. That’s one of the girls I was telling you about that’s staying at the hotel.”

“No. Wait.”

“She could be hurt. The hotel’s only a couple miles from here.” Jeff grabbed for the door again. Lee grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt, jerking him to a halt. Rage boiled up within Jeff’s veins. He’d had just about enough of this prick’s grabbing at him and condescending attitude. “Get your fucking hands off me.”

“That’s not who you think it is.”

Jeff looked out the windshield and watched. His jaw dropped. Meghan pulled off her shirt and then slipped out of her underwear. Her eyes flashed red as she raised her panties over her head and swayed her hips in a dance that under any other circumstances would have had him salivating. Lee let go of his shirt and revved the engine. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be rummaging through the basket for something?” Jeff said, staring at the supposed shaman.

“Some things fucking die easier if you just run them down.” Lee buried the gas pedal, shooting the Shinari at Meghan.

“Wait! Wait,” was all Jeff had a chance to spit out holding on for dear life as the car smashed into the girl he’d kissed the night before. Instead of being pulled under the vehicle’s wheels or sent flying up over the car, the body splattered on contact. Blood and flesh splashed the windshield, obscuring their view of the road. Lee stamped the brakes; the car screeching to a halt. The wipers took a second to move, under the weight of the gore covering them.

“What the hell was that?” Jeff said, still clinging with one white-knuckled hand on the seat and the other gripping the door so tight he was sure the handle would pull free.

“A taste of what’s waiting for us.”

Jeff thought of Meghan. Between Kenneth McGowan’s nude stroll the other night, and his adventures with Lee, he didn’t know what the hell to make of this. “Was that her?”

“Her who?” Lee said, reaching for his pack of cigarettes.

“That girl,
that thing
…in the road. Was that Meghan?”

“I don’t think so. Here.” Lee held out a cigarette for him. A sickening feeling crawled through Jeff’s already tense stomach. “Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em is something I’ve learned to live by,” Lee said.

Jeff hadn’t smoked since he was twenty-two, giving up the habit after his Grandmother passed from emphysema. He wondered if Meghan, the real Meghan, was okay. He thought of their kiss, his promise to check on her… He had thought of her as the girl of empty promises, but now he was the one coming up short. The flash of guilt mixed with his ever growing pile of anxieties, pushed his nerves to their frayed limits. “Yeah, I think I could go for that.” He reached a trembling hand out and took the cigarette as Lee pushed the car’s lighter in.

“I’ve never smoked in this car before, never used this lighter before,” Lee said. “But I think we’re both in for a night of firsts.” The lighter popped out and Lee handed it over. Jeff sparked the cancer stick to life. Lee lit his own, cracked both windows, and hit the CD button on the car’s stereo. Jeff recognized the song as it drifted out of the speakers in perfect clarity.

Riders on the storm… riders on the storm…into this world we’re born, into this world we’re thrown…

Jeff took a long drag from the cigarette—his lungs surprisingly acting like it was old hat—and glanced up into the dark, cloud-covered sky.

God, if you’re up there, we sure could use a hand.

Thunder cracked.