Scream Test: An unforgettable and gripping psychological thriller

by Mark Gillespie

“Yeah,” Ellie said. “That sounds good to me.”

  “Too cool. How’s ten-thirty sound to you? It’d be a chance for you to meet Grady again and because he’s got a project in mind for you, he’s also talking about maybe doing an informal screen test today. Nothing to freak out about, just a little script reading and testing the waters. You know, put the feelers out. No need to prepare anything. Grady says you’ve got the looks but now we gotta find out about your acting chops. Okay? That’s kind of a big deal too. Takes more than just a pretty face to make a star around here, you know?”

  Ellie nodded. “I know.”

  Jami’s voice shrank as she mumbled something to someone else. Then, a moment later, her focus was back on Ellie.

  “Grady says he has confidence in you. Says you’re a star in the making if ever there was one. And he should know.”

  “Thanks,” Ellie said. “No pressure, huh?”

  “No pressure. We’ll book you in for today then, Ellie. When you get to the Lux, walk up to the front desk and tell them you’re meeting Grady Klein. They’ll point you in the right direction. Alright?”

  “Yeah.”

  Ellie’s relief was wearing off. She knew all about Klein’s reputation with his leading ladies, both the willing and unwilling participants. Klein was a ‘starmaker’. The biggest starmaker in town and he knew damn well he could get away with anything he wanted because he was the man with the keys to the magic castle in his pocket. Keys shaped just like a dick. Ellie cringed, but he was the door and in order to do what she had to do, she had to go through him.

  “Umm,” Ellie said, running a hand through her hair, “do I have to dress up or anything? I’m a light traveler and I didn’t really bring a lot of clothes with me on this trip. I only got here last night. Haven’t had time to do any shopping.”

  “Don’t worry about that stuff sweetheart,” Jami said. “This is just a casual, informal meeting. It’ll take an hour max. Huh, what’s that? Oh, Grady just said you can show up in your slacks if you want. You get the picture, right? Wear whatever you want to wear.”

  “Great.”

  “See you later this morning?” Jami asked.

  “You bet. Half-past ten on the button, I’ll be there. And Jami, will you tell Grady something for me please?”

  “Sure,” Jami said. “What is it?”

  “Tell him I can’t wait to see him again.”

  2

  Ellie walked up the winding lane that led towards the Chateau Lux.

  The spiraling trail continued, steep and unforgiving. It led her further away from the cars and the people and the crowded sidewalks of Sunset Boulevard, away from the sun and the way it touched the back of her neck. Ellie was barely twenty meters from the road and yet, as the sound of traffic continued to fade, it felt like she was entering another world.

  The Lux might as well have been located in another world. It was a dark oddity that dated back ninety years, perched on the edge of the Sunset Strip, partially hidden from plain sight. Built in the early thirties, the hotel had been inspired by the Château d’Amboise in the Loire Valley, France, and its turrets and spires gave it something of an old-world feel and of something that didn’t belong in twenty-first century Los Angeles. It was originally constructed as a seven-story, earthquake-proof apartment building to house self-enclosed units that offered a higher level of privacy for its residents. The Great Depression however, had made high rents and long-term tenancy commitments a major problem. It wasn’t long before the Lux was sold off and transformed into a hotel. And what a hotel, at least in terms of notoriety and securing its place in pop culture history. In the latter half of the twenty-first century, the Chateau Lux had become best known as a discreet haven for rock stars, actors, writers, artists and celebrities. It was the place to go for those who wanted to cut loose and more often than not, misbehave away from the eyes of the public, the press, spouses and bosses. It wasn’t the best hotel in Los Angeles, not in terms of luxury and expense. It wasn’t the biggest either with only sixty-five rooms in total, including twenty-two suites and six bungalows. What it was however, was discreet.

  Ellie glanced at the familiar surroundings on Lux Lane. The snake-like road and the tangled mess of overhanging foliage that offered minimal shade from the California sun. She’d seen this narrow road on the news. Ten years ago, after yet another famous person had died in the hotel. Who was it that time? Some thirty-something actress who’d succumbed to pneumonia and combined drug intoxication. Death was nothing new around this place. Drug overdoses mostly, a couple of murders and that one guy (who wasn’t a rock star or anyone famous) who’d crashed his car into the building after exiting the garage. Suicides, there were plenty. Rumors of rape, incest, all types of debauchery and the big fire in 1978 after a well-known actor, long past her prime, had fallen asleep with a lit cigarette.

  The seedy stories that seeped out of the Lux repelled many but that same repellant was an irresistible aroma to others. Those with a taste for the morbid were desperate to stay or visit the hotel. It wasn’t easy getting a room. Old Hollywood was back in vogue and that meant the Lux was in high demand. Private parties, brand launches, award ceremonies and season galas – there was no room at the inn for the average joe that hadn’t booked well in advance.

  But Grady Klein was no average joe, Ellie thought, as she continued the trek uphill. A man like that could get a room for the afternoon on short notice with a mere phone call.

  Ellie took a break from walking to stare at the Lux’s faded white exterior up ahead. She had to admit it was pretty cool seeing it in real life and not in book or on the news or online. Somewhere in that building, she thought, or perhaps in one of the nearby bungalows, Grady Klein was waiting for her.

  Ellie continued towards the hotel. Her fingers clung to the strap of the cotton tote bag hanging off her shoulder. She was casually dressed in a Rolling Stones ‘Voodoo Lounge’ t-shirt and a pair of tight-fitting jeans. As she started walking again, she glanced over her shoulder to see Lux Lane twisting and turning its way back towards Sunset Boulevard.

  Her heart was racing. Nerves she could handle, but there was another problem eating away at the back of her mind.

  Blackouts.

  It had taken doctors a long time to figure out what was wrong with Ellie when she started having problems in her teenage years. As if she didn’t have enough problems with her parents, something biological had to come along and twist the knife in deeper. The doctors had eventually settled on something called syncope – a sudden decrease in blood flow to the brain, due to a decrease in heart rate and blood pressure, a ‘vasovagal reflex’, so they’d said. Whatever. Ellie blamed her shitty parents because why the hell not? She figured that the condition was more mental than physical and that zoning out the way she did sometimes was how her teenage brain had shut out the noise of their constant fighting. Constant, constant fighting. This was nature giving her a break. Ellie usually woke up on her back after the blackouts. She’d feel a little dizzy, maybe have a sore head, but that was the worst of it. The waking blackouts were scarier. Sometimes Ellie would snap out of it right in the middle of doing something she had no memory of starting. She’d be on her feet, standing at the fridge door with no idea how she’d gotten there. She’d be sitting on the bus, her stop miles behind her or standing in the park, wondering why she was even outside in the first place.

  It was fucked up to say the least. Ellie liked to joke with the doctors and anyone else who asked, telling them that she’d been kidnapped by aliens during the blackouts and at one point, after watching a series of documentaries on UFOs and alien abductions, she began to take the idea seriously. Didn’t last long. Even when she stopped believing it, a part of Ellie still hoped it was true. She’d clasp her hands together and plead with the night sky. Please God, let it be true and let them come for me tonight. Aliens were a way out of that house. But even if she did go and live on another planet, Ellie knew she’d be taking the mental scars with her to the other side
of the galaxy. Not even the Millennium Falcon could hope to outrun all the crap her parents had dumped on her lap.

  Nowadays, in terms of her condition, Ellie was worried that there was something abnormal with her brain and heart and that it would kill her before she reached the age of thirty. It was like she could hear the cosmic clock ticking in her head, every thunderous second announcing its arrival louder than the previous one. It’s the final countdown, da-da-da-da! Maybe that’s why she’d always dreamed big. Dreamed of so much more than a half-life in the suburban outskirts of Toronto. And that’s why she had to push through today. Push, push, push through the nerves. That’s why she had to walk into that hotel room with Grady Klein, the starmaker, and do everything she could to make her life count for something. Because nobody knew for sure when the fat lady was going to start singing and everything would come to an abrupt end.

  She finally reached the top of the hill and pushed through the glass double doors. Her throat was dry, her heart thumping after the steep climb. The air-con blew a welcoming breeze onto her face and arms.

  Ellie strolled through the lobby, trying to act like someone who belonged there. The t-shirt and jeans combo showed off her slim, elegant figure just enough, but not in a slutty way. She had no reason to feel uncomfortable. Besides, nobody else hanging around the Lux’s lobby looked like they were about to attend the Oscars.

  The place was cool alright. The lobby was more European than anything in Hollywood had the right to be, giving off a honey-amber glow and boasting arch-shaped Gothic windows on all sides, a checkerboard floor and some overly hip Jazz-age furniture that would make it a good place to hang out at two o’clock in the morning, drinking bourbon out of a curved glass and talking about the meaning of it all. A small piano was tucked into the far corner of the room.

  It was neat but Ellie wasn’t exactly blown away. Like everything with a big reputation, the Lux was smaller in real life. This wasn’t the Beverly Hills Hotel – sunlit lobbies with garish greens and reds and high-ceilings sprinkled with glittery stars. The lobby here was gloomy and it was old Hollywood, alive in all its drab glory. The guests here paid for the legend, the aura and not for luxurious mediocrities that could be found anywhere else at the right price.

  A few people passed back and forth, some heading towards the elevator. Others strolled past Ellie on their way to the front door.

  “Good morning. Welcome to the Chateau Lux. Can I help you?”

  A black-haired woman with a toothy smile stepped in front of Ellie and blocked her path to the desk. A hostess, Ellie guessed by the look of her stiff, buttoned-up blazer and clipboard combo. The woman’s smile, smothered under too much spray tan, fizzled out as she studied Ellie further. Ellie could imagine what she was thinking.

  Just another dreamer fresh off the bus. I’ve seen you a thousand times already and I’ll see a thousand more just like you.

  Ellie, at least five-eleven in flat-soled sneakers, towered over the diminutive hostess. “I was just making my way over to the desk. I’ve got an appointment with someone who’s got a room here.”

  Shit, she thought, as the words left her mouth. That sounded bad. Made her sound like she was charging that someone by the hour.

  “Do you have an appointment?” the hostess asked.

  “I just said I had an appointment.”

  Ellie didn’t like the way this person was looking at her, like she was a cockroach on a brand-new toilet seat.

  “Does everyone need an official appointment around here?” Ellie asked.

  “I didn’t say that,” the hostess said, poker-faced and in a cutting tone. “I asked if you had an appointment. I haven’t seen you around here before, that’s all.”

  “You mean I’m a stranger?” Ellie said. “Funny thing, considering we’re in a hotel. You think you’d be used to seeing strangers coming in and out all the time.”

  The hostess’s eyes gave nothing away. Although the smile had faded.

  “Who is your appointment with?”

  “I’ll tell the lady at the desk. Not you. It’s none of your business.”

  Ellie had a strong urge to punch the woman in the face right then and there. She could always blame it on a syncopal episode like she’d done once in school after an argument with Kathy Yuen had spilled over into violence. Yuen had the audacity to make fun of an old friend of Ellie’s and Ellie, upon hearing about it, had jumped the little maggot after school outside the front gate. They went down and duked it out, surrounded by a pack of bloodthirsty teenagers cheering them on. Ellie probably went a little too far, raking her nails down the other girl’s face even after it was clear she’d gotten the better of the fight. Turned out Ellie had a hell of a temper. Yuen on the other hand, was a hell of a screamer. A gym teacher had pulled Ellie off the battered girl and she found herself in the principal’s office later that day, blaming her temper on the brain fog, pleading with the principal to understand that it was a legitimate and recently diagnosed medical condition and it was that that made her attempt to claw Yuen’s eyeballs out of her head.

  The principal didn’t buy it then and the police wouldn’t buy it now either.

  “Can I go now?” Ellie asked.

  There was a pause before the hostess pointed a polished red fingernail towards the desk.

  “Please go to the front desk and tell them the details of your appointment this morning. They’ll take care of you. Thank you for visiting the Chateau Lux and have a great day.”

  “The front desk?” Ellie said, feigning surprise. “What a coincidence. That’s exactly where I was going before you interrupted me. Thanks for making me late for my appointment.”

  She marched over to the desk, not waiting to see if the hostess wanted to add to the discussion. Ellie put her hands on the solid oak counter and wrenched a pleasant smile onto her face.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  The woman behind the desk was scribbling in a notebook when she noticed Ellie standing in front of her. Her face lit up in contrast to the pouting glare of the ice-maiden with the clipboard who was still patrolling the lobby like Jaws looking for swimmers. With her reddish blonde curls and a pretty but weathered face, the receptionist reminded Ellie a little of her mom. Ellie wouldn’t hold it against the poor woman.

  “Good morning,” the receptionist asked. “Can I help you?”

  “Yeah I hope so,” Ellie said, glancing at the clock behind the desk. It was 10.28am. She was cutting it real close. “I’m meeting some people here at ten thirty. I believe they’ve booked a room for the afternoon.”

  “Certainly, I can help you with that. May I have the guest’s name?”

  “Grady Klein.”

  Ellie watched as the woman’s smile withered like a dying rose. It lasted only a second or two but it was as if the man’s name was the equivalent of a stiff jab to the receptionist’s chin. Recognizing that she’d strayed from her professional duties, the woman tried to recover her game face. Seemed to Ellie that she needed to go to the bathroom and take five minutes to get her shit back together. A smile of sorts emerged, but her eyes refused to cooperate.

  “Sorry?”

  “Are you okay?” Ellie asked, still leaning on the desk. “You looked a bit off there for a moment.”

  The receptionist was blinking quickly. “Oh, I’m sorry about that. I’m fine. I was just…”

  “It’s alright,” Ellie said, sparing her the trouble of conjuring up an excuse. “I zone out all the time. It’s fine, really.”

  “Right.”

  “So,” Ellie said, taking another look at the clock. 10.29am. “About that room number. Can I have it please?”

  The receptionist glanced around the lobby, clearly distracted. “Yes. Umm, you’re sure?”

  “Sure?”

  “You’re sure that you have to go up there? To Mr. Klein’s room?”

  Ellie tilted her head. “I don’t understand. Is there a problem with Mr. Klein’s room or something?”

  The receptio
nist looked briefly around the lobby again. Then she leaned slowly across the desk, bringing her face closer to Ellie’s. She lowered her voice like a teenager in class trying to whisper something across the aisle without the teacher noticing. “Why would a nice girl like you want to go up there? Are you sure you want to?”

  Ellie knew she had to play dumb and act like she didn’t understand. Nonetheless, she felt as if she was watching herself in a black and white movie and this was it – this was the damsel-soon-to-be-in-distress’s last chance to make a getaway. Her fate wasn’t sealed, not yet. There was an open door behind her. There was daylight. Nothing was over until she went up in that elevator. Until she walked inside and heard the hotel room close behind her.

  Mr. Klein’s room.

  “I’m sure,” she said with a forced smile. “I arranged it with Mr. Klein’s PA this morning and they’re expecting me. What room is he in by the way?”

  The receptionist took a long time to answer. Finally, her hands tapping off the keys in slow motion, she checked the computer.

  “Room 59.”

  “Thank you.”

  Ellie didn’t walk away. Not at first. She wanted to take the woman’s hand, squeeze it and tell her that everything was going to be okay. Not that she knew for certain what was going to happen, but she wanted to say it anyway. It was nice to see a little humanity on display in Hollyweird at last amongst the sleazebags and plastic-faced robots. Someone who looked at Ellie and didn’t see another starry-eyed nobody who had it coming. How many women had the kind receptionist seen go up to Klein’s room in the Lux before and come back down an hour later, covered in cuts and bruises? Clothes torn, tears flowing. The people who’d discovered the price of dreams too late.

  Still, there was no guarantee that anything would happen. Maybe Klein wanted to talk movies and acting and whether or not there were any upcoming parts that Ellie would be suitable for. It was possible, wasn’t it? He couldn’t rape them all, could he? If he did that, he’d be in jail. Right? Ellie had dreamed about being a movie star for so long because it was an escape from the life she’d lived in Toronto. And here she was, on the brink of meeting one of the most powerful figures in the industry. A notorious rapist yes, but a starmaker. Maybe the rapist was having a day off. It had to happen sometimes because the man needed women in his films.