The Haunted Halls

by Glenn Rolfe

  The last few miles on Route 5 were quiet save for the slapping chunk of flesh and the thumping of the wipers. Jeff tried not to think about what was ahead, but Lee’s shaking left leg kept waving like a flag of nerves in his peripherals. He thought of Rhiannon, alone and ignorant of the gravity of their situation. Maybe it’s a good thing; at least she won’t have chewed her fingers down to nubs. Then again, she could be in trouble if whatever’s there wants to fuck with her. The fight or flight conflict arm-wrestled for supremacy within his heart as the Bruton Inn came into sight, standing against a darkness that had settled in for the evening. There was no turning back.

  …..

  Lee pulled the car around the front, glancing through the lobby doors; he couldn’t see whether anyone was at the front desk or not. He forced the beast of a car to a crawl, purring around the corner of the building, following the parking lot to the back of the property.

  “You see that,” he said.

  “What?” Jeff tried to find what Lee was looking at.

  “Up there, second floor,” he said, pointing with the cigarette between his index and middle fingers. “There’s a broken window.”

  “Where? Oh yeah, oh shit. And look, another one.”

  Splotch

  Whatever they had just run over made the car thump. Lee stopped the vehicle.

  “What was that?” Jeff said.

  “Hold on.” Lee stuck his half-done smoke between his lips, shifted the car in reverse, and backed up. There was a second, less-messy noise as the wheels rolled over whatever they’d squashed beneath the tires once more.

  “What the hell is that?” Jeff said.

  Lee stared hard through the windshield, and despite the fog now covering the ground, he could see the hair in the headlamp beams. “That’s what they call, a bad sign.” He put the car in drive and drove forward, being sure to steer clear of the severed (and now flattened) head in the lot. He didn’t think Jeff’s mind allowed him to see what the road kill was, and he didn’t say any more of it. He didn’t need the guy freaking out before they even had a chance to get inside.

  A great weight was pressing against Lee’s spirit. Something cold, something dark. His own spine was threatening to come undone. Two shattered windows and a decapitated head bordered on too much in his book. Clutching at the wooden figure hanging from his neck, he prayed for the spirits to guide his heart.

  Lee pulled the car to the far end of the property, killing the engine. “Open the glove compartment.” Jeff struggled with the latch.

  “You have to press the button and pull at the same time.”

  The guy fumbled a second longer before the compartment fell open.

  “Grab a pack out of that carton.”

  “Hope you’re this prepared with your voodoo, too,” Jeff said, handing Lee the cigarettes.

  Little shit.

  “Yeah, this is sort of what I do. You just try not to piss your pants when we get in there.” Jeff’s lips tightened and his nostrils flaired.

  Good, get mad. I’m going to need someone with balls, Lee thought. “It’s in there,” he said.

  “You can feel it?”

  “Yes, and so can you.” Lee opened the pack and drew out two more cancer sticks.

  “So,” Jeff started, taking the offered cigarette. “What do we do now?”

  “First, we need to get in the proper headspace. Get our spirits right” Lee reached over the seat, pulled out the smudge stick and a piece of white chalk from his basket. “Light this,” he said, handing the green bundle to Jeff.

  Jeff did as he was told, then went to blow out the flame.

  “Not yet!” Lee said. “Let it burn a minute.”

  “What’s the chalk for?”

  “We all have spirit animals. Power animals–mine’s the wolf. We need to find yours.”

  “How do we do that?” Jeff said, waving the burning smudge back and forth, watching the smoke drift up.

  Lee pulled a CD from the basket in the back and slipped it into the stereo. The familiar, comforting sounds of Zamfir and his flute filled the air within the car, joining the smoke of the smudge stick. “Blow it out.” Jeff did. Lee took the stick from him and squeezed it into the space between his cup holder and leather seat. “Sit back and do as I tell you.”

  “What the hell are we doing?” Jeff said.

  “Trust me. Lean back and try to relax.”

  Lee closed his eyes and lay back, letting his muscles rest. He peeked to make sure Jeff was following his lead–he was. With the guy’s wavering attitude, Lee knew he had to stay on top of him.

  “Now, I want you to take some deep breaths. Try not to think of anything.” He knew it was a hell of a lot easier said than done under normal circumstances. As Jeff’s breathing began to slow–a good sign–Lee pushed on. “Now, steady your breathing, and try to think of the moon. See it in your mind, bright, full, and sitting high in the sky.” He waited giving his apprentice a chance to form the vision. “Do you see it?”

  “Yes.” Jeff sounded neither surprised, nor condescending.

  “Now, feel the cold...”

  “I, I feel it.”

  “Now, lower your vision from the moon. There’s a mountain…”

  “Yes,” Jeff said.

  “Now gaze upon the mountain, there, on the cliff…”

  “I see it.”

  “What do you see?”

  “It, it looks like a ….like a fox.”

  “Okay, you’re on the cliff. The fox is now in front of you. There’s a clearing…”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me what you see beyond the clearing.”

  “Woods… a forest.”

  “Go into the forest.”

  “No… no… I’m not going in there.” Fear bled through Jeff’s voice.

  “You must.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Follow your spirit animal. It will protect you.”

  “No. There’s, there’s something in there…I see it…I see…her…a girl…with red eyes…”

  “Go on,” Lee said.

  “She’s…she’s…”

  “Yes?”

  “She’s going to peel your flesh and drag your skin over your fraud of a Grandfather’s grave.”

  Lee sat up, gooseflesh covering him. Jeff was lying perfectly still, in the trance, in the vision. “Who are you? What is your name?”

  “S-s-s….uhhhh.”

  Lee slammed backward against his door as Jeff, eyes closed, vomited down the front of himself. The smell of curdled milk trumped the earthy smudge for superiority.

  Jeff coughed, hacking up more puke. His eyes shot open as he threw his hands out, grabbing at the door, and the middle console, trying to get his bearings.

  “It’s okay,” Lee said, trying to sound calmer than he felt, placing a hand on Jeff’s shoulder. “You’re okay. Can you hear me?”

  “Yeah, yeah…what the hell just happened? Uh… gross…” Jeff turned away at the sight of the bile. He grabbed the door handle and pushed.

  Lee considered stopping him. The preparation ceremony wasn’t complete yet, but he couldn’t blame the guy for wanting to get out and get some fresh air. The first journey into the spirit world can be a real mind-fuck, especially when something evil finds its way in. He wasn’t sure what Jeff had seen or if he would even remember, but he knew they couldn’t wait any longer. They had to get inside.

  “Suck it up,” Lee said, holding out another smoke.

  Jeff took it, letting Lee light it for him.

  “Do you remember what you saw?”

  Jeff shook his head. “Yeah, it was…do you see that?”

  Lee turned around not sure he wanted to be enlightened. The lights on the second floor were flickering on and off. Lee searched the two windows on the end of the building, there was nothing–“There,” he blurted out. The face in the window of the door disappeared.

  Lee looked at Jeff–the man looked white as a ghost–and said, “It’s time.”

&nb
sp; Chapter Nine

  Standing in the hallway, Timothy raised his arms out to his sides and struck his best Jesus Christ pose. He’d never felt so powerful, so perfect, so right. There were more warm bodies to ruin and release to her salvation, but the one he desired most had vanished down the stairwell. Flexing his powers, the lights flickering at his command, he moved forward, admiring his trick and feeling an immense gratitude for his true love. Before Sarah, he lived a lie. Denying his urges, constantly thinking those near him could see the truth, could see Shannon and Beth–dead, broken, and buried. All the years of trying to fit in, conforming to the drones walking blindly through painfully hopeless lives, hiding his razor-sharp longing to become more, his desire to live uninhibited, free to feed his darker urges, but fearing the status quo and their condemnation of things they did not understand. Those days led to this–liberation from all the trappings of the dying world outside. Sarah had opened the door to his cellar of crimson dreams. It was time to realize his potential.

  The eyes of men and women in the black and white photographs hanging like silent sentries along the pulsing lights of the hall began to fill with blood. Walking down the corridor, Timothy’s thoughts were of blood too–the blood of numerous victims of his Ice Queen. She showed him all the death she had produced. Through her, he knew the blood reigning down now and where it came from; the blood of her father and his bimbo; of Gordon McDonough; of Jason Perry; the blood of the last two days…so much life, gone. Timothy inhaled the intoxicating scent of so many fallen, his eyes rolling back, a wave of black ecstasy trickling through his veins.

  Placing one leather dress shoe before the other, he followed the path of the pretty young thing who had danced to the death with Kenneth. He stopped before room 209, glancing in at the boy’s dead body. He wasn’t sure how she was able to kill Kenneth; the obedient servant’s death was unfortunate, but at least this little girl was proving to be fun. He sensed her strength, and could feel a mild sympathy that such an undaunted soul should be snuffed out.

  She will run, but she will not get far. Her swan song, like all great curtain calls, will be one of legend.

  He would make certain of it.

  Chapter Ten

  Rhiannon stood at the bottom of the stairs, her heart hammering, thoughts glazing over, body swinging into shock. She collapsed in a heap into the corner of the stairwell, afraid, ashamed even, to step into the lobby. She tried to urge her body to get up and move, to get the fuck out of this madhouse. She trembled. Her cousin Jack had told her about the time he hydroplaned completely horizontal on the interstate in a heavy rain storm. She remembered him saying that after the car straightened out, he pulled over and cried while his body shivered uncontrollably for fifteen minutes. The aftermath of her encounter with Kenneth McGowan had slipped deep under skin. Something had inhabited his body. She knew with her heart of hearts that he was not the same shoelace-staring, frail, and awkward guy that had been living here for the past month. His eyes…she saw the black orbs that flashed with sinister glee before she smashed his skull in.

  “Hello? Is anyone here?”

  The male voice from around the corner called out, bringing her back from the ledge of sanity. She grabbed the railing above her head and pulled herself back to her feet. The lights in the staircase died. The fine hairs covering her body stood at attention, her stomach dropping.

  “Hello?” the man in the lobby said again.

  Rhiannon ran into the lit area.

  “Oh, hi, I was wondering if anyone–” the man said.

  “Get out,” she said.

  “Excuse me?” The man in the green t-shirt and Bermuda hat looked her over. She was still half-naked. “Ma’am, are you in some kind of trouble?”

  Before she could answer, his pale blue eyes looked behind her. The sliver of dread worming its way inside her like a parasite told her all she needed to know.

  Rhiannon ran toward the guest in the Bermuda hat, shoved him, and said, “Go! We need to get out of here!”

  The guy attempted to grab her by the arms. She swatted him off, moving past him. She turned to find the man with long blond hair, dressed all in black, standing by the lobby doors with his hands behind his back. He was leering at her. She suddenly felt faint, like her thoughts were being stirred.

  Bermuda Hat stepped forward, putting one arm out as if to block the man in black from her. “Is this the man who attacked you?” he said. She couldn’t answer. “Sir,” Bermuda Hat said, taking another step toward the man. “I think you and the miss here are done for the night. Why don’t you–”

  The man in black’s eyes released her and turned to Bermuda Hat. Rhiannon felt the swimming feeling in her head sweep away.

  She grabbed Bermuda Hat by his t-shirt. “Never mind, we need to get out of here. Come on.” She pulled at him.

  “He’s not going anywhere, Ms. Jenner–”

  He knows my name.

  “I know many things,” he said. “This chivalrous gentleman is not leaving, and neither are you.”

  Bermuda Hat made a gurgling sound.

  “Come here, sir,” the man in black said.

  Bermuda Hat moved forward. Rhiannon backed away, watching in horror as darkness swallowed the whites of the man in black’s eyes. Bermuda Hat stopped in front of him. The man in black glanced at Rhiannon, his black eyes exuding a coldness that sunk into her marrow. Not wanting to see what was coming, she turned and fled. A series of sickly wet sounds like the ones her old dog, Wolf, would make when he ate a can of Alpo were followed by something that sounded like jelly slapping on the floor, and then a thud. She didn’t have to look behind her to know it was Bermuda Hat hitting the floor.

  She ran down the hall reaching the halfway point of the first floor. The girl, Sarah, who had sent her to the room with Kenneth, stood at the end of the corridor, smiling, the light of the Exit sign above her shadowing her pale face in red. The elevator was on Rhiannon’s right. She had no choice. She hit the up arrow, watched the door slide open and ducked inside tapping the number two with her fingers like a woodpecker on speed. Footfalls clicked down the hall, closing in. The chrome door slid before her, the elevator began its ascent.

  VOLUME VI

  Days Gone By

  The girl had finished him and fled the room. The darkness inside the one called Kenneth faded into nothing. It was gone, and so was he. Christina moved over his empty vessel. So young… just like… just like… Looking around the room, she was hit by a feed from days gone by.

  The haze lifted, the memories began rolling back. The hotel…they were at the hotel, this hotel. She remembered the room–big bed, color TV, the mini-fridge full of drinks. Laughter, smiling eyes…and then the horrors. She saw the men–one had tried to hurt her, the other…. She saw the blood and remembered the lies, the death. She saw the girl…she saw her. Sarah.

  The pool…

  Back in the room, she sensed something else–one of them–was approaching. The cold was coming closer like an awful blackness closing in, devouring all of the light in its wake. She moved into the bathroom and hid out of sight. Hoping it would pass.

  The deathly entity stopped. She felt a heavy presence just outside the door, and then, it moved on.

  Something bad was happening. And it was only just beginning. She had to find a way to help. Find a way to stop it. To stop her. She had failed once, long ago, but she had to be here for a reason. She’d been given another chance to put an end to Sarah’s lust for death and destruction.

  Chapter One

  “Stop,” Lee said. He pulled Jeff to the side, their backs facing the building. Another hard rain had begun to fall.

  “What is it?” Jeff said, raising his voice over the deluge. Lee turned his head, wicker basket in hand, and peeked in the window of the inn’s back entrance.

  “I saw a girl,” Lee said. “It was the girl from the vision I had the other night–the one haunting my spirit.” He turned back to Jeff. “And I suspect the one you saw in yours.”


  Jeff swallowed hard and held his hand to his brow shielding his eyes from the rain. “She’s the ghost?”

  “Yes, but I think she’s something more than that.”

  Jeff didn’t respond. A ghost was bad enough. He didn’t want to think about something worse.

  The night howled as the angry storm whipped the trees behind the inn from side to side.

  Lee moved his face back to the window. “She’s gone, come on.” He reached for the door handle.

  “That’s not going to work. We need a key to–” Jeff said, stopping as the door opened.

  Lee looked over his shoulder, “Looks like we’re expected.”

  Jeff shivered in the cold, but it wasn’t the storm freezing the blood in his veins, he knew whatever was waiting for them was not going to be so welcoming once they found it.

  “Stay behind me,” Lee said.

  “Holy shit, it’s cold in here.” Jeff tried to will the warmth back into his arms by rubbing them. He and Lee were drenched.

  “It’s the spirit,” Lee said.

  “Did you see where it went?”

  “No, it was just there, walking away,” Lee pointed down the hallway. “Then, it was gone.”

  “We have to find Rhiannon and Meghan. Can’t you project yourself, like a spirit or something,” Jeff said, stepping past Lee. He wanted to get in and get the fuck out.

  “Not so fast,” Lee said, grabbing him by the sleeve. “It’s watching us.”

  “Well, can you?”

  “Can I what?”

  Jeff jerked his arm free and said, “Can you do that power animal stuff, and I don’t know what they call it…put your spirit out, like a lookout?”

  “I think what you’re referring to is astral projection. I have the ability, but I’d rather not expose myself to our friend here. It’s dangerous, especially when you’re not sure what you’re dealing with.”