by Jon Sauve
"I guess we should go in?" Jacob said, and sauntered through the door with all the bravado of a confident sheriff entering a duel.
We filed in, one after the other. There wasn't much to see. The hallway was dimly lit. The floor was covered in a very old and very ugly rug. It was filled with dust and, if I had to guess, a lot of mouse shit.
At its end, the hallway opened up into a big entry room. There was a long balcony up above, and a wide staircase led up to it. Classic haunted house setup. A huge chandelier dangled from the ceiling, but it was broken and corroded. The only furniture in the room was a table with ten chairs positioned around it. There was a thick piece of paper on the table, folded in half and propped up like a tent. Jacob grabbed it and read it out to us.
"Take a seat. We will be with you shortly."
"Don't mind if I do," Mary said, falling down into a chair. "I've been on my feet all day."
"Waitress?" Ben asked, taking a seat across from her.
She stared at him. "What makes you think that?"
Ben shrugged. "My mom's a waitress. She's always talking about how much her feet hurt."
"Oh. Well, I'm not. I work at a stupid electronics store. And my boss is an idiot. And did I mention it was stupid?"
Naturally, being me, I waited until everyone else had sat down. I ended up between Beth the Eagle and Luke the IT nerd. I felt like a midget.
"So," Ben said. "Nice place. Or it used to be, anyway."
We all looked around. The place had seen better days, but I could tell how swanky it must have been originally. The walls were all dark cherry trim and crimson wallpapers. The floors were hardwood, creaky and pockmarked, the seams full of grime. The stairs had one of those skinny rugs running up the middle, and the balustrade was more cherry, carved with intricate designs.
"I feel like I've seen this place in one of those paranormal shows," Luke added.
"The Allnighter Travel Lodge," Jacob said. "Does sound a little familiar, doesn't it?"
"Perfect setting for a murder mystery," Beth said quietly.
The two cousins, seated at the end of the table, huddled together and whispered to each other. But they sat up fast when a door on one side of the room banged open.
Three men entered. All were dressed well, in perfectly tailored suits. The one at the front, who I automatically assumed was Jeremy, looked like the cocky kind of guy who would make a good protagonist in a Scorsese movie.
"Greetings!" he boomed, spreading his arms. "My math might be a bit rusty, but I think I only see nine. That's alright, though! It means you all have a better chance of winning."
I craned my neck to look behind them. I don't know what I expected to see. Camera men, guards, something. But the room they had come out of was dark and empty.
"Is everyone comfortable?" the guy asked. "Anyone in need of a drink? Bathroom?"
"Nope," Jacob said. "I think we'd all just like to know what we're doing here."
"Right. And you will know. But first, I'd like to introduce myself." He bowed deep to us, sweeping his arm to the side. "I'm Jeremy, and I am the host and emcee of this hunt. This here is Max..."
He gestured to the man at his right. Max was a tall, athletic looking guy. Even through the suit, you could tell he was in good shape. He was also unfairly handsome. Max smiled and waved when his name was mentioned, flashing perfect teeth that had probably cost his parents more than a few grand.
"And this is Elden," Jeremy added.
The third guy was the least handsome of them. He had a square jaw, a brow that stuck out, and a widow's peak that came down within an inch of the bridge of his nose. He had a short trunk of a neck, broad shoulders and thick, stubby fingers that clearly held a good deal of strength.
"Now," Jeremy said, "enough of that. Let's get down to it. I, Jeremy, and my two friends here have pooled some money together, and will offer a prize of ten grand to whoever comes out on top of our hunt. Unfortunately for you, we all three like a bit of mystery, and you're going to have to wait a little while before the object of the game becomes apparent."
Jacob let out a dry Sam Elliot style chuckle and moved to stand up.
"Wait, now," Jeremy said. "Ten thousand dollars has to be a good enough reason for you to wait around a little bit."
"Son," Jacob said, "I haven't smelled anything this fishy since your mother opened her legs to squeeze you out. If you don't tell me what the hell this 'hunt' is, I'm gone."
To emphasize, he swiped his hand through the air and made a whistling sound.
"Good line," Jeremy said. "I gotta admit, that was pretty good. I like this. I like this guy. I was hoping to get some characters; it adds a lot more fun. Patience now, señor Squint Greasewood. Elden?"
The cro-magnon to his left pulled a thin stack of money out of his coat pocket. All hundreds, that I could see.
"That's two grand right there," Jeremy said. "Just a sample. And you know what, Squint? I'm betting on you right now. You're going to win this whole fucking thing, how about that?"
He grabbed a few bills from Elden's wad and shoved them down Jacob's shirt. Jacob looked kind of like he wanted to sock Jeremy in the teeth, but he held back. Finally, a snarky smile twisted his face.
"You got a deal," he said. "For now."
"You wanna spit in our hands and shake on it?" Jeremy asked. "No? Alright. Well! Us three introduced ourselves. How about you all stand up and give your names. Let's see who we've got."
Ben was the first to get up and announce himself. Everyone else followed suit after a tentative few seconds. I kind of belted my name out randomly, and sat back down as soon as I did. I think I flew under the radar. No surprise; it's a skill I've been practicing all my life.
The bad thing is, I was so focused on saying my own name I missed it when the two cousins gave theirs. So for now, I will call them Boogie and Oogie.
Boogie and Oogie were the last ones to sit down. Jacob was still fishing bills out of his polo shirt, and Jeremy was using his fingers to comb back his hair.
"Looks like we've got a passable cast," he said. "Alright. Now, things are gonna twist a bit here. You may have noticed that we are currently located in an abandoned hotel. I have to say some stuff about that. First, the place isn't called the Allnighter at all. We made that up. We made the website, too. And the Craigslist ad and the website are being taken down as we speak. This is an exclusive event. You should all feel very lucky to be here." He looked over at Max, and let out a girlish squeal. "Ooh, it's going to be fun!"
Then he looked back at us. "Now! First things first. This is how it's gonna go. You will all be placed in separate rooms, evenly spaced around the hotel. In those rooms, you will have an alarm clock. The alarm will go off at midnight, precisely. When that happens, the game is on. The rules will become apparent as you explore the hotel. You are not to leave the hotel at any point, or you will be totally disqualified." He said it with a nasty little grin. "Now, my friend Max here will pat y'all down and make sure you haven't brought anything useful with you. Then he will give you a slip of paper with your room number written on it. You will go straight to your room, go inside, and shut the door. The door must not be opened until the alarm sounds. Got it?"
There was a murmur of assent.
"Good. Alright, line up for your pat down."
Jacob was first. He passed. Jeremy handed him a little shred of paper, and off he went. Shaun was next; he gave Max a bit of trouble.
"You're doing it wrong," he said. "You're supposed to check the ankles, too. I could have anything down in my sock."
"And up your ass, too," Max shot back. "Do you want me to stick a finger in there?"
Shaun was quiet after that. Apparently, he decided it wasn't worth it.
Then it was Mary's turn. For some reason I expected Max to be a creep and let his hands linger in a few choice spots, but he didn't do it. Maybe I watch too many movies. Anyway, she got her piece of paper and was gone.
Then, it was me. Still not sure how or why I
ended up fourth in line, but whatever. The end result was the same. Max felt me up for a few moments. He was actually pretty respectful about it, or at least as respectful as you can be running your hands over a stranger's body. When he was done, he waved the next person along. Jeremy gave me my paper. My room was 14L.
I must have looked confused, because Jeremy tapped me on the shoulder and gave the second floor landing a subtle nod. The secrecy seemed pointless, since everyone would see where I was going, but I went along with it.
The stairs were creaky and bouncy. I stepped lightly, just in case. At the top, there was a sign on the wall. There were two arrows pointing left and right; the left one pointed to rooms I through L, the right to rooms M through P. I turned left and walked along, feeling a bit nervous. So far I was the only one on the second floor. All alone. And to top it off, I had to turn down another hallway to get to my room, which was one of the last rooms in this entire wing of the second floor. There were only two more doors after it, then a boarded up window. I could hear the sound of crickets faintly through it. Otherwise, I was in total silence.
I opened my door. No fancy keycard locks here.
The room was lit up by a dim, battery powered lantern, the kind you get at a sporting goods store. On the table next to it was an alarm clock, also battery powered, and a note, which I picked up and read.
You may use the lantern however you wish. There may be other things hidden in your room that can help you. I suggest you use the time before the hunt begins wisely. Good luck.
After a cursory look at the bed to confirm what I already knew - it was long gone, totally unsuited for laying or even sitting on - I decided to take the note's advice and started to search the room. First, under the bed. Nothing there, just some trash that I assumed wouldn't help me at all. Then I looked in the closet. Not much of a hiding place in there, but I did find something on the upper shelf. It was a multitool, dull and full of sand. I'm not entirely sure it was supposed to be there, but I grabbed it anyway. If the hunt involves yanking things with pliers, I now have a distinct advantage.
I searched some more, but only found one other thing. It was an energy bar. I decided it was absolutely supposed to be there, since it looked new and the expiration wasn't for another ten months.
So now I'm sitting here, writing this down in a little notepad I brought with me. I actually bring it everywhere I go, to jot down ideas or whatever, but I don't usually write this much so fast. My hand is cramping up. The clock shows 11:54. I guess I'd better put this thing away and get ready, although it's pretty hard to get ready for something you know nothing about.
Anyway, I'll probably hide this notepad in my room somewhere. The ad didn't say anything about bringing paper, but better safe than sorry.
One last thing. I haven't heard anything since I've been in this room. I guess everyone must be far away. This hotel is a big place. Can I admit that I'm kind of spooked right now?
At the stroke of midnight, the alarm buzzed. The sound made me jump, and also inspired a jolt of anger, which I think is a conditioned response to alarm clock sounds. I ran over to the thing and mashed the buttons until the horrible noise stopped. In the quiet few seconds after, I heard echoes of other alarms, muffled as they blared across the hotel. Then they were all quiet. Thank god.
I went to the door and pushed it open. The hallway was still dark, still quiet, and still smelled like old piss. I set out with my rusty multitool and energy bar bouncing in my pockets. The energy bar, if you want to know, has fifteen grams of protein and two hundred fifty calories in it. The third ingredient on its list was sugar. The multitool was MADE IN CHINA by some company I've never heard of.
So there I was, striking out into the unknown. Jeremy said the rules of the hunt would "become apparent", but so far I wasn't seeing much. Of course, I had ideas. We might be looking for a certain treasure, hidden in one of the rooms. We might even be looking for Easter eggs, for all I knew. Either way, I decided it would be efficient to start looking in the rooms nearby.
I opened one up, saw the darkness, and realized I had been stupid and left the lantern back in my room. I went to get it. It turned out not to be worthwhile. The only thing I found in the room was dead spiders. So far there was nothing "apparent" about this, unless it was apparently a waste of time. Ten thousand dollars to whoever finds the most used heroin needles. I'm probably in last place.
I made my way along the hall, peeking into some of the rooms as I went. I saw a gradient of decay, all the way from shit brown to dried-blood black. AKA, none of the colors your mom would choose for painting the living room. I also caught a kaleidoscopic array of smells. Luckily, none of them were fresh.
When I came around the corner, into the straight shot that led back to the second floor landing, I saw a tall someone going into a room far ahead. In the darkness, it was hard to tell who it was. It could have been Max, Luke, or even Beth. I froze solid for a second, not entirely sure why, then kept going.
The thing about me, and the thing about all shy people I guess, is that we try to be quiet. It is our greatest fear that someone might notice our existence. Second greatest is the fear that no one will notice us, but that's beside the point. What I want to say is, I started moving more carefully after I saw that tall person going into a room. It was my tentative goal that I should get through this whole scavenger hunt without having to talk to anyone.
I reached the landing and, after a brief consideration, continued down the second floor hallway. I had reason to believe the downstairs area would be more densely populated, so fuck that place. When I came to the room the tall person had entered, I turned off my lantern and double-timed it past the doorway. I glanced in, and saw that the person inside had their back turned and was fiddling with their lantern. The long hair could have belonged to Luke or Beth, but the ratty t-shirt and bony shoulders confirmed it was the IT nerd himself.
I have to admit, I felt relieved. If it had been Beth or Max, the chance of getting sucked into an unwanted conversation would have been higher.
As usual, my relief didn't last long. I wasn't even five doors down from Luke when I heard a scuffling sound up ahead. Someone was groaning and grunting. Someone male. I was stuck between two people. Should I go back, and brave the IT nerd again, or should I continue?
The choice was made for me while I stood there like an idiot. Shaun came stumbling around the corner. The first thing I noticed was that his sunglasses were gone, and the second thing was that his exposed eyes were full of fear.
Then he fell down, scraping along the peeling wallpaper and leaving a streak of something dark behind. Then I noticed the third thing, the thing that made the rules of the hunt very fucking apparent; there was a Swiss army knife sticking out from the back of Shaun's neck, and he was bleeding from several other holes, too.
So, what did I do next? What the fuck do you think I did? I ran my ass off. I didn't even think about being quiet. I might have yelled a warning at Luke, I hardly remember. But I do know he saw me. He must have sensed the urgency of the situation, because his scrawny face took on a look of panic.
The first thing I thought of was escape. So I went all the way to the other end of the second floor, to the boarded up window near my room, and started trying to pry the boards off. I used my hands first, then the multitool. Neither seemed to do jack shit, and when I took a closer look with my lantern I understood why. The board wasn't held on with nails; it was held with screws, and the wood was so fresh it was still leaking juice.
"Screwdriver!" I thought, or maybe I said it aloud, or maybe I screamed it. But that idea turned out to be useless. The multitool had a Phillips head, but the screws in the board had a square design on them. In other words, Dwayne Johnson might have been able to get these boards off, but I sure couldn't.
Plan B was to run and hide in one of the rooms, which I did with great speed. It turns out stupidity and panic don't go good together, and I ended up in the same room I started in, my whole body stuffed into one
narrow corner of the closet.
I turned off the lantern, set it at my feet, and took out the multitool. Its blade attachment was dull, but it was all I had.
For the first few minutes, I held my breath and listened. The lack of screaming suggested that Luke had managed to either get away or hide from whoever had stabbed Shaun. And who had stabbed Shaun?
Jeremy or Max. Had to be. For some reason, I couldn't imagine the deed being done by their cro-magnon friend Elden.
This led to more questions, to which my imagination supplied answers. The hunt had been organized by Jeremy, Max and Elden as a means of murdering people. They had created their own private reserve, had lured people in. And they would give the last man standing ten thousand dollars. No, that didn't make sense; ten grand wouldn't be enough to silence anyone about the deaths of eight people. So the money must be part of the ruse, too.
And I fell for it, like the dumbass I am. And here I was, crammed into a rotten closet, my teeth chattering. The multitool wouldn't do me any good. I already knew it.
I was in the middle of deciding what the fuck to do when someone came into the room. I barely heard it. They were being sneaky. But sneaky is only so good when the floor underneath you creaks like a centenarian's knees.
You know the terrible feeling you get in dreams, when you desperately want to go somewhere or do something but you can't, because you're struck with full-body paralysis? That's the way I felt in that closet, listening while someone crept around the room.
The closet had seemed like a good hiding place in the heat of the moment, but now I was painfully aware that only a four inch wide edge of wall kept the person out in the room from seeing me immediately. They had their own lamp; I could see shadows dancing around on the wall, cast in pale blue light.
"Yo," a voice whispered. "Hey, are you in here?"
It was Luke. I almost fell down, but instead I rushed out of the closet. Luke was standing there in the gloom, tall and skeletal. He had shut the door, and shoved a mouse-eaten pillow against the crack so no one would see the light.
