The Haunted Halls

by Glenn Rolfe

  Chapter Five

  Timothy’s new shadow tailed him. Whether the big guy with the fucked up grin was actually following him or just had the same plans for the evening was still up in the air. Paranoia had always been a Timothy-staple.

  He made his way down the first floor hall feeling eyes upon him the whole way, but he wasn’t about to let the weaknesses of his past ruin the promise of this night. He reached the pool room, grabbed the door handle and turned–the big guy was no longer there.

  Where the hell did he go?

  He stepped into the pool area, his dress shoes slapping against the granite tile, and was reminded of a study he read about how confined spaces with high humidity were perfect breeding grounds for bacteria and disease. This thought evaporated as Timothy took in the primal scene set out before him. Beautiful young ladies jiggled about everywhere. They filled the pool, they relaxed or texted in lounge chairs. They drank, they giggled, and at least a few of them were looking in his direction.

  Two scantily clad blondes in matching red and white-striped bikinis approached him. They smiled and offered him a Bud Light. He accepted the ice cold beverage–despite the fact that he thought the stuff tasted like Alka Seltzer–and smiled back at them.

  “Cheers,” he said.

  The one on the right replied, “You’re welcome, handsome.”

  He tipped the beer bottle in response and continued forward. A few feet past the edge of the pool, a couple of steps led up to a second tier. He had never seen anything like it in another hotel. Two hot tubs bookended a row of very modern-looking pool furniture. He found a free seat, and planted himself between the two Jacuzzis.

  “Hi.”

  A cute redhead in a plaid bikini top leaned over the edge of the hot tub to his left.

  “My name’s Janey,” she said. “What’s yours?”

  “Tim.”

  “Hello, Tim.” Janey rested her chin on her folded arms. “Are you going swimming or did you just come down here to stare at all the pretty girls.”

  “A little of both, actually,” he said.

  “You should come have a seat in here with me.”

  He looked down at his pants, then back at her. “In these?”

  “I bet you have some cute boxers on under there,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

  He looked out over the crowd of wet, young bodies, “I think I need to finish my drink and get a good feel for the atmosphere before I join in on any of the activities.”

  “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes, sat up, and turned her back to him.

  He assumed they were playing “the game.” Oh well, he had already decided he wasn’t chasing anyone this weekend. There were plenty of cute little fish in this sea. If this girl was playing hard to get, she was going to be waiting a while.

  He lifted the cold bottle of crappy beer to his lips when someone in the pool caught his attention. It was her–the girl from the backseat of his car, or at least a damn near perfect look-a-like.

  …..

  The Ice Queen stared at the object of her desire. This time, she would show him all the dirty things he thought he had buried deep down where no one would find them. But first, she wanted to have a little fun.

  …..

  It had been over an hour since Rhiannon left for the hospital. Jeff was gnawing through his fingernails at an alarming rate waiting to hear about Kurt’s condition. It didn’t help his anxiety that the enigmatic and thus far elusive Meghan Murphy had called down and renewed his hope of getting to spend a few good hours in her company. She was fucking up his head. One night they hit it off, the next she acts like he’s invisible, then they kiss, and then she disappears. He could not figure her out. With the whole situation around Kurt today, he was grateful to have something to keep his mind from giving itself over to the girl of empty promises.

  Jeff decided he would just call Rhiannon’s cell. He found her number on the emergency call list by the phone at the desk, and dialed–it went straight to voicemail.

  “Hey, this is Rhiannon. Leave me a message and–” Rhiannon’s voice was interrupted by another girl’s: “You’ll be lucky if you ever see this little bitch again.” Jeff’s neck hairs were standing on end as Rhiannon’s voice came back through “–maybe I’ll get back to you.”

  Beep. Beep. Click.

  Unsure what he had just heard, he tried the number again. Nothing–not even the voicemail. He Googled the number of the Hollis Oaks General Hospital, found it, and dialed.

  “Hollis Oaks General. Marci speaking, how may I direct your call?”

  “Hi, I’m looking for a friend of mine that was brought in earlier from the Bruton Inn. His name is Kurt, Kurt Costello.”

  The sound of Marci’s keyboard clicking chattered in the receiver.

  “Are you any relation to Mr. Costello?”

  “Yes, I’m his brother.”

  “He’s in the ICU. I’m not supposed to transfer calls up there after nine pm…”

  “Please, ma’am, I just have to know that he’s okay.”

  “Okay, sir. Since you are family,” she said. “But I’m only transferring you one time. If the call comes back–”

  “Thank you, Marci,”

  “Okay, I’m putting you through.”

  The phone rang twice before someone picked up. It was the other voice from Rhiannon’s voicemail.

  “Hello, Jeffrey. Looking for your friend?”

  Jeff’s blood froze.

  “You shouldn’t worry about him. He’s going to be quite all right. You might even get to see him again.”

  “Who is this?”

  “Why don’t you go check on the girls in the pool?”

  Jeff pictured her on the other end, smiling behind the eyes of some famous serial killer–Dahmer, or Bundy. The temperature in the lobby dropped; goose bumps, like boiling water, bubbled up to the surface of his skin. Before he could respond, the line went dead.

  “What. The. Fuck?” he said a lot louder than he should have. The preppy couple at the coffee station shot him a set of matching dirty looks.

  “Sorry,” he said.

  Jeff grabbed the “Be right back” sign from under the desk, placed it up for guests to see, and started down the hall, heading toward the pool. The fucked up voice reverberating in his head, followed him down.

  Chapter Six

  Eric watched Timothy talking with the red-haired girl across the room. All around him he heard the whispered promises of one impish little girl or another. He watched them frolicking in the pool; young men and women, women and women, men and men, rubbing up against one another and not one of the so-called parents to be found.

  The short brunette, who had been taking him in with her eyes since he slipped into the room, placed a hand on his thigh. He turned to her with his dark eyes and crooked grin, grabbed hold of her wrist, rose to his feet, and led her into the changing room. She followed along.

  On the other side of the changing room door, they found a couple finishing up from their own private moment. The boy and the chubby blonde, who was working hard at stuffing her ample breasts back into the black one piece she wore, dropped their half-smiling faces to the floor, excusing themselves from the room.

  “Well, you got me in here, now what are you going to do,” the little brunette said.

  He reached past her, clicking the lock on the door. Stepping in close to her until her breasts were pressed up against stomach, he lightly rubbed her bare shoulders while looking her over.

  “Oh, I think I like where this is going.” She placed her hands on his hips.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he said, slowly raising his hands to her neck .His eyes turned from natural deep brown to pitch black. Her playful grin died upon her face.

  “Shhhh,” he whispered in her ear. “If you want to cry for help, you can whisper your useless little prayers to me.” The smile returned to his face as he stifled her screams by clenching his hands around her neck. She jerked and kicked, her spastic, terrifi
ed eyes bulging within a face that was turning blue. He could have had a little fun with her, but Kenneth–her newest follower–was outside in the night, waiting for another body to dump.

  The brunette’s flailing body gave in to the sweet kiss of death. Eric threw her over his shoulder and walked to the small rectangle-shaped window beyond the last stall. He reached up and opened the window; the sun from the day had given way to the promise of a darker pledge. The smell of ozone in the cooling breeze rolling into the otherwise warm and sweaty changing room spoke of the coming storm.

  As he lifted the body of the dead girl to the opening, Kenneth McGowan’s dirt-covered hands reached through from outside, took hold of her, and pulled the corpse into the darkness. Eric watched her bare feet disappear through the opening before returning to the pool room.

  …..

  Outside, Kenneth scurried as quick as he could, dragging the dead girl’s body across the freshly paved blacktop of the deserted rear parking lot and down the small decline in the back corner of the lot. He heaved and grunted, hauling the dead weight through the copse of trees just past the lot. The disposal was hard work, but for her, it was worth it.

  Kenneth got the body through the thickest area of forest, stopping short of the pit he spent the day digging with his bare hands. Soon this hole would match the two beside it. The bodies of two former hotel guests had already been taken care of, presumably by the big guy. Kenneth pushed the corpse into the earth and began returning the dirt to its former place of rest. Thunder boomed overhead. He barely had the body covered with a layer of soil when the first drops of rain began to tap the ground.

  …..

  Meghan sat hunched over the edge of her hotel bed, her pounding head between her knees. Since arriving at the hotel, she’d been having blackouts. One minute, she would be watching television or reading a book, the next a wave of exhaustion would sweep over her like the late Thanksgiving effects of a heavy dose of tryptophan. She was lucky if she made it to the bed before she was out cold. She had woken up on the floor twice already, clueless to how she’d wound up there.

  During these “blackouts” she had the most horrible dreams. In them, she was always acting like a complete slut, dancing up on men she had never met before, grinding against them and letting them paw at her. Then, there was the big guy. He was close to twice her height and had the darkest eyes; to look into them was to look into the epitome of death. Yet, despite his awful gaze, she found herself longing for him, needing him, knowing that she was to go to him. She would wake up from these dreams woozy and missing large chunks of time.

  Now, sitting on the plush bed, feeling the impending lethargic wave coming in from the shores of her mind, she decided to fight it, whatever it was. The last time she tried, she wound up in the dirty dream before waking up on the bathroom floor, but tonight, she felt stronger.

  Chapter Seven

  Christmas Eve, 1983

  “Holy shit, Tina, you act like we just went and saw Poltergeist,” Sarah said, behind a curious grin.

  Christina couldn’t ignore the sick feeling squirming through her stomach like maggots through a torn trash bag. She put on her best I could give a fuck mask and swam over to the pool’s edge to meet her. Sarah looked great dressed in her silver two-piece barely big enough to contain her perfect breasts. The stirring of envy bellied up within Christina again. She squashed the jealous feeling under her recently self-initiated directive to stop putting this cold bitch up on a pedestal. “I just didn’t hear you come in. Water’s warm.” She dipped back under, disappearing into the quiet waters before reemerging at the other end (farthest from Sarah) of the pool.

  “You’re ass looks nice in that suit,” Sarah said.

  “Thanks. You comin’ in, or you just gonna stand there with your tits hangin’ out?”

  “Mee-ow. Listen to you. Wherever did you learn to talk like such a bitch?” Sarah said, reaching her slim arms up behind her neck, undoing the knot that held the tight silver top in place. “How about I up the ante around here?” She brought her arms down to her hips, letting her top fall to the floor, her breasts out for the world to see. “Skinny dipping? Or as the French would say-plongement maigre?”

  Christina, in spite of her best attempts not to, blushed like a school girl going in for her first kiss. She cursed herself for not being able to stifle the natural reaction. She watched as Sarah’s bikini bottoms landed next to the silver top. Sarah stood naked as the day she was born. “Well, you gonna strip? Or are you still too shy?”

  Christina quelled the urge to spit hell-fire at the bitch and her stupid attempt to control the situation. Sarah had issues, and this time, Christina decided she wasn’t playing her dumb little games. “I think I’m good. You go ahead and play naked mermaid without me.” She watched Sarah closely, trying to gauge her response. Sarah’s nostrils flared. Her brow furrowed, and then the grin slid back into place.

  “Fine. Be a baby all your life.” Sarah said. She raised both hands over her head, placing one palm over the other in a diver’s stance, and propelled herself into the water with precision, barely the hint of a splash.

  She watched as Sarah closed the distance between them, cutting through the water like an eel. She broke the surface too close for comfort. Face to face with Sarah, her effort to respond was preempted by a kiss. Sarah placed an open mouth to her own–a tongue slithered its way past her lips. Stunned, both from the act itself and the surprising sense of arousal birthing from the lip-lock, she found herself kissing this devil back.

  She felt Sarah press her nakedness up against her. Christina, as if in a sexual trance, found herself touching her, exploring the amazing body pressed tightly to her own. She snapped out of it at the fingers pressing between her legs. “Whoa, what are you doing?” she said, breaking the embrace and swimming back toward the side of the pool.

  Sarah smiled wide following after her. “I think you mean what are we doing?” Sarah came forward again, but was met with a hard slap across the face. Christina, shocked at her own brazen move, watched as the meanness took over her pursuer’s features. Storm clouds funneled within Sarah’s brown eyes.

  Like a caged lioness unleashed, Sarah roared, grabbed Christina around the neck with both hands, and squeezed her throat, causing her sight to fill with a mix of stars and spots. Forced beneath the water, certain that she was next on Sarah Ford’s kill list, one thought passed through Christina’s clouding mind: I made a huge mistake.

  Present Day

  Timothy rubbed his eyes, hardly believing who he was seeing. The gorgeous woman in the center of the pool seemed to hover in place, her gaze locked on his own. There was a connection, more mental than tangible. He rose from his seat, unbuttoned his dress shirt, dropped his slacks to the floor, and propelled himself into the pool, splashing into its lukewarm depths. Coming up somewhere in the middle, close to the spot where he’d seen the woman, he emerged from the water, only she was nowhere to be found. He wiped the water from his eyes, spinning around, scanning the pool, then the room, for the beautiful creature.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  He twisted around, expecting to find the pool beauty, but instead, came face to face with Janey. How did she… his thought was hit by Kryptonite–she had the most wondrous emerald eyes. He could not break her gaze as she swam up closer to him; her hands suddenly appeared on his hips as she got up into his face, bit her bottom lip, and reached between his legs. “Isn’t this supposed to shrink when you’re in the water?”

  “I, uh…I was looking for someone,” he said

  “I’m someone,” Janey said, putting her hands into the front of his boxers, gripping him tight. “Do you want to go up to my room with me?” She put her lips to his ear and whispered, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  His breathing grew heavy as she began to move the hand wrapped around his penis back and forth. He turned to look around and see if anyone else in the largely populated room was paying attention. No one was. They all
appeared to be caught up in their own microbursts of seduction. He turned back to respond to her request and came eye-to-eye with the dark-haired beauty he had originally been chasing.

  “Surprise,” she said.

  His head felt like a top, spiraling aimlessly. He wasn’t sure what the hell was going on or how the two girls had switched; he was still being tugged on below the water’s surface.

  “How h-how did you–” he said, but before he could spit out the rest, his body quivered as he ejaculated.

  “Mmm,” she moaned in his ear. She pulled her hand free from his underwear and swam in a circle around him, leaving him euphoric and dazed.

  He looked up to see the blue-eyed blonde he had passed by the ice bucket of beers smiling at him. His face warmed as he turned to follow the dark-haired sex queen who had just made his night—hell—who had just made his year. But she had disappeared, again.

  Chapter Eight

  Jeff reached the inn’s pool area, and froze at the impossible sights behind the glass. There were at least twice as many people in the pool room than there should be. Some were dancing, some were laughing, but most of them were tangled like lovers at a swinger’s party. Underneath the hip hop music bumping bass-pounding beats from within, he could hear moaning. He spotted couples in the pool rocking back and forth, another couple intertwined against the far wall, and a group of three girls having their own make-out session. Jeff knew he should step in and put a stop to all of this. Standing and staring at the whole decadent scene, his mouth dry, and his heartbeat accelerating, he found his hand resting weakly on the door handle, unable to turn the knob and open the door.

  …..

  Eric had watched the man named Timothy flirt like a fool with the ginger across the room, then watched him drop his fancy clothes and plunge into the pool in pursuit of her. He had stood gritting his teeth as she had her way with the weak, baldheaded buffoon. The smirk returned to his stone face after she left the pool and returned to his side.