I Took a Job at a Century-Old Hotel With a Strict List of Rules | Part 2
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What happens when Trevor is alerted to a strange smell and guests return to the lobby?
Davila rushed through the front doors, eyes darting around as if searching for threats. Her nostrils flared as she smelled something that didn't agree with her. What's wrong? She asked, walking toward the desk. I've been trying to call you back for the last 20 minutes. The lobby was empty, everything in its place. I smiled as Davila approached. Sorry, I dropped my phone. It broke. I called the desk phone too, she said, coming around and yanking the receiver up, holding it to her ear to check the dial tone. I shrugged. That's odd. I didn't hear it. I've been here the whole time. What's that smell? Davila asked. Smells like... Overcooked barbecue. Two people appeared from a first-floor hallway, fighting against their luggage as they walked with purpose toward the desk.
It was the nice old couple I'd checked in around ten, Mr. and Mrs. Blanche.
We're checking out, the man exclaimed.
I'm sorry to hear that, Davila said, slipping into her managerial role despite wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. Is something wrong? The bed is uncomfortable, the man grumbled, setting his bag down with a thump as the two reached the desk.
The air conditioner is noisy. The people upstairs won't shut up. The TV doesn't work. A better question to ask is, what is it wrong?
The woman said with a huff. Something about the woman bothered me. Flashes of frightening memories flared in the recesses of my mind. But not only those, something about her demeanor reminded me of someone. I'm so sorry to hear that, I said. I'll get you checked out and issue a refund. Wait a second, I'm sure we can fix this, Davila said. How about an upgrade? I think Mr. and Mrs. Blanche just want to check out, I said. No, it wasn't me. I didn't say it, although whatever was inside me was trying very hard to convince me that it and I were one in the same. I'd been a passenger in my own body without even knowing it. But now, as I realized who the woman reminded me of, it all came flooding back. Grandma?
I shrieked in my mind, realizing I'd been clinging to some part of her, some memory or maybe even a spiritual residue left after her passing. Claws sharp as scythes and made of darkness plunged into my essence and ripped me from my mind. I fought against them, thrashing, trying to regain some little control so I could warn Davila.
How do Mr. and Mrs. Blanche reveal something terrifying about the guests?
Don't let them check out!" I tried to scream, knowing that allowing anyone to check out of the hotel right now would be disastrous for our small town, even if I didn't understand why. I managed to grab onto some dim internal ledge, looking out of my eyes as if through the wrong end of a telescope. My fingers clung as the claws tried to rip me away. Faintly, I could still hear Davila trying to convince the old couple to stay. Looking down the long tunnel, I realized I could see the couple's true faces again. Bits of bloody flesh hung from the woman's shredded cheeks. The man's face was locked in a too-wide grin. Both pairs of eyes pulsed with swirling clouds of red and black. Whatever spell that was still cast on Davila no longer had any effect on me.
Why? Because it's getting weaker, my sweet, tough grandma whispered in my ear. For a moment, I was sure I could smell her, a mixture of white linen perfume and wintergreen mouthwash. I'm sorry, I said to her, my fingers losing their grip on whatever psychic irregularity I had managed to cling onto. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I should have been there for you. I should have visited more. I'm sorry." My grandmother raised me from the time I was three years old. According to my estranged mother, my dad had disappeared immediately following conception. For her part, my mom thought having a kid would help her get sober. She was an addict and an alcoholic, although she managed to stay clean throughout the pregnancy.
It took her three years of repeatedly falling off the wagon to realize she didn't like sobriety or being a mother. She handed me off to my grandmother, who was all too happy to have me. Her husband, my mom's dad, had died of a heart attack in his early 50s. Grandma never remarried.
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Chapters
4 chapters
1
What happens when Trevor is alerted to a strange smell and guests return to the lobby?
0:04–2:33
2
How do Mr. and Mrs. Blanche reveal something terrifying about the guests?
2:33–5:40
3
Why does Trevor suddenly see his grandmother and lose control of his body?
5:40–13:15
4
What clues show the possession is weakening and who notices it first?
13:15–23:59