by Tasha Black
She crouched down to ease the drawer completely out of the desk, hoping she would be able to get it back onto the ancient tracks again once she had retrieved whatever was blocking it.
It was dark back there. She reached into the shadows, trying not to imagine something reaching back.
Her hand met something soft and skin-like.
She yelped and yanked her hand out.
“Come on, Dru,” she chided herself.
She slid her phone out of her pocket and turned on the flashlight. In the shadowy recess behind where the drawer had been, there was a small, leather-bound book.
She reached in again and pulled it out.
The old leather was soft in her hands. It looked like some kind of journal. But of course, it wasn’t necessarily old. New journals that looked like old journals were all the rage.
She opened it to a random page, wincing as the spine cracked.
The leather was still in good shape, but the paper was yellowed, and the glue had gone pumpkin-colored and dry.
She gazed down at the words on the page, and was greeted by what seemed to be a jumble of random letters, in a script that seemed oddly familiar.
Dru studied it for a moment, words and sentences coming into focus. But nothing she could understand. It definitely wasn’t in English.
But it also didn’t seem to be in any language she’d ever seen before.
She immediately started shuffling through the possibilities in her head.
So much for getting any writing done tonight.
3
Dru headed downstairs for her shift a few minutes before midnight, lugging the typewriter with her, and hoping Howie wouldn’t stop in and complain that she was moonlighting.
He usually reserved his little pop-ins for Hailey’s shift, and Dru was grateful for the relative peace, especially when she had work to do.
As she suspected, she’d gotten too ensconced in the strange journal to get much writing done, but it was putting her into a curious mood that she hoped would soon morph into inspiration.
Throwing a few of the words into an online translation program had brought up nothing, though she hadn’t tried for long. The internet on the mountain was so slow it was genuinely painful at times. So it seemed the journal would stay a mystery at least a little while longer.
Hailey spotted Dru as she approached the front desk, and gave her a quick smile and a yawn before heading off to bed. Hailey was definitely not a night owl, and her light was usually ready to go out by the time Dru took over for her.
Dru wished her a good night as she put the journal and the typewriter down on the desk, then logged into the ancient desktop computer there. It probably dated back to the Clinton administration, but it had a wired connection, which made it the speediest piece of tech in the building. It wasn’t much, but she typed in a web address and watched the machine chew on it for a full minute.
Hailey had stashed her drink and a few of the leftover snacks on a shelf under the long counter. Dru took a sip of her room-temperature soda and waited for her forum to load.
When she first decided to write a horror novel, she’d gone online to find writers’ groups. But most of the users were chatting about sales and craft, not about actual horror.
A friend had given her a tip about an online forum for fans of a popular ghost-themed reality show. And while that forum hadn’t yielded much, it had led her down a rabbit hole that wound her up in a forum for the defunct TV show Ghost Getters.
In the show, married couple Dan and Lily Getters had toured the country’s most storied haunted houses with pseudo-scientific ghost-hunting technology, all while wearing tragically unhip ‘90s outfits. Though it was canceled after only two seasons, Ghost Getters had been elevated to the status of cult classic by both ironic and earnest viewers.
The forum Dru frequented was decidedly on the earnest side.
Once the landing page loaded, her username, Gh0stwr1ter, popped up with a tiny typewriter icon, and she entered her password.
A reassuring ping from the computer alerted her that she was logged in.
It looked like two of the other regulars were active too.
Before she could scroll through what she had missed one of them was already typing a message to her.
TadStrange:
Gh0stwr1ter! You made it!
She smiled and typed back, fully aware that her feeling of contentment was just a trick of her endorphins, and that this didn’t count as actual human contact, but not caring one bit.
Gh0stwr1ter:
Sure did!
TadStrange:
Any paranormal activity yet?
Gh0stwr1ter:
Not unless you count a dead rabbit.
WraithGirl19:
Wicked!
TadStrange:
That’s definitely suspicious. Any unlikely drafts or doors slamming?
Gh0stwr1ter:
Not yet. Just the rabbit.
WraithGirl19:
#jealous
TadStrange:
Maybe ActionPark will be on later. He has a copy of that book, I’m sure he wants to hear how you’re doing.
ActionPark was one of the more active members. He had a book about Hemlock House, probably self-published back in the ‘80s by a local historian, describing the hotel, the jewel thief and everything that had happened in the 1960s that put this place on the map of minor American ghost hotels.
It was likely the only remaining copy of The Haunting of Hemlock House in existence, and Dru would have gladly given a kidney for it.
Not hers, of course.
But there was no point asking ActionPark. He was a diehard ghostie, and the book would not be for sale.
The front door to the hotel swung open and a couple with a teenager poured in, laden with suitcases. The mother gazed at Dru with an expression of intense relief.
Gh0stwr1ter:
I’d better get to work. Chat with you guys later.
She signed off with a single click that made a mockery of how difficult it had been to sign on, and jogged out to meet the family in the doorway.
“Welcome to Hemlock House,” she said. “Let me get some of this for you.”
“Thank you, sweetheart,” the mom said, handing over a suitcase.
Dru organized all their luggage by the main staircase and then headed back to the computer to check them in.
“Let’s get your room keys,” she said. “What name is the reservation under?”
“Jeffrey and Jenna Wilder,” the husband said, wrapping an arm around his wife.
He tried to wrap his other arm around his daughter, but she shrugged him off, focusing on whatever was playing in her ear buds.
“Sorry to come in so late,” Jeffery offered. “We got caught up in traffic on the way to Willow Ridge.”
“It was so kind of your caretaker to bring the shuttle down for us at this late hour,” Jenna added. “Please thank him again for us.”
Dru barely restrained a smile. Chester must have been absolutely thrilled to be woken up for that. She didn’t doubt that she’d hear all about it in the morning.
Dru nodded and turned her attention to the computer as Jenna went up on her toes to kiss her husband, a little more passionately than Dru would have expected her to do in the circumstances.
The phrase, “Get a room,” came to mind, but she supposed that was exactly what they were in the process of doing.
“Okay, you’re in the Topaz Room,” Dru said.
She grabbed the key from the board below the desk.
When she straightened, her breath caught in her throat for a second. A man had come in without her noticing. He was standing just behind the Wilders, staring her down with a strange intensity. He must have come up on the same shuttle.
She shivered a little, and turned back to the affectionate couple.
“Here’s your key,” Dru said, handing it to Jenna.
“Great,” Jenna said. “And we should have a second room booked fo
r Angie.”
Dru frowned and rechecked.
“I’m sorry,” she told them. “But there’s only one room booked.”
“Then can we add a second room, please?” Jeffrey asked politely. “We were hoping to get a little… private time.”
Angie rolled her eyes. Dru figured her music wasn’t turned up quite high enough to block that out.
Dru turned back to the computer and clicked through screens. Unbelievably, the man who had booked Sapphire and Onyx also had the Quartz Suite reserved.
“I’m so sorry,” she said at last. “It doesn’t look like we have any available rooms.”
“Seriously?” Jenna asked. “I read that all these old places up here were having trouble booking guests.”
So it was common knowledge that the Hemlock House’s days were numbered. Interesting.
“The comet, baby,” Jeffrey said quietly.
“Yes, there’s the comet,” Dru agreed. “And one of our guests seems to have booked a whole wing.”
“Who?” Jenna asked, looking fascinated.
“Just some old dude,” Dru said, shrugging. “No one special. I’ll let you know right away if anything opens up. And in the meantime, your room does have a fold-out sofa.”
“Oh baby, look. I did only book one,” Jeffrey said, showing his wife his phone. “My mistake,” he said, turning to Dru.
“Men, am I right?” Jenna said to her, winking.
“I’ll keep an eye on the reservations in case we can get you an extra room,” Dru told them.
“Thank you,” Jeffrey said. “Come on, ladies.”
“I’ll help you up with your bags,” Dru offered.
“No thanks,” Jeffrey said. “We’re fine.”
“Okay,” Dru replied. “When you get to the top of the stairs turn right, and the Topaz Room will be just ahead on your right.”
They headed off and she ran a hand through her hair. She was alone with the next guest - not something that would normally have registered with her, but something about this man was slightly unsettling. Maybe it was just that he’d surprised her by slipping in without her noticing. That wasn’t easy. Dru could usually hear that creaky old door from anywhere on the whole first floor.
“Can I help you, sir?” she offered.
“I’m sorry if I’ve caused an inconvenience.”
The man’s voice was deep and smooth as honey. His words took a moment to register.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
He smiled, and his blue eyes crinkled. There was a depth there, like calm water that you could get lost in.
He was handsome in a subtle way, tall and lean, with dark hair to his shoulders. She probably would have noticed the sexy vibe when she spotted him behind the Wilders, if he hadn’t been staring at her in that intense way.
“I’m Viktor Striker,” he said, arching an eyebrow. “The old dude who reserved all those rooms.”
Holy shit.
“I-I’m so sorry, Mr. Striker,” she stammered, thinking of his ancient belongings. She had just assumed, since they were so old…
But he wasn’t all that much older than she was. At least Dru didn’t think so. He was hard to get a handle on. She guessed he was most likely in his thirties.
“Please, call me Viktor,” he said with a disarming smile. “I know it’s unusual to book so much space. I just like to spread out.”
She pictured him spread out on the bed of the Sapphire Suite, moonlight glinting in his dark hair.
“I’ll get you checked in,” she said, trying to shake the unprofessional thoughts.
“My belongings arrived before me, I expect?” he asked.
“Oh yes,” she said. “We got those upstairs for you earlier. Don’t worry.”
“Not you?” he said, brows lifted again.
“Well, Hailey and I did it together,” she said.
“Strapping girls,” he said appreciatively.
She heard herself laugh as she bent to grab the keys to his rooms. Dru had been called a lot of things in her twenty-odd years, but strapping was a first.
When she straightened, she caught him observing her with serious eyes again.
Something flashed between them, like a storm at sea, and for just a moment, she felt herself drawn to him.
But he broke eye contact, and gave her another gentle smile.
“May I show you to your rooms?” she asked.
“That would be nice,” he replied, his voice familiar somehow, deep, and almost rusty.
Dru stepped out from behind the desk and joined him at the foot of the staircase.
“After you,” he said with a slight flourish.
For all that he looked like he might be in his early thirties, he did have a faintly old-timey air about him. She wondered if maybe he was some kind of antiques dealer. It would explain the trunks, and the manners.
She moved up the stairs, shocked at herself for feeling self-conscious about what she looked like from behind. He was just another guest, only a little more interesting than most.
She headed left at the top, and went to the door to the Sapphire Suite first, since it was the nicest room of the three. She slid her skeleton key into the lock and pushed the door open.
The curtains were still drawn, but the big trunk was in the corner of the room, its leather strap unbuckled. And there was a covering over the mirror on the dresser.
That was weird. No one should have been in here since she and Hailey carried everything up.
Most likely it was just Howie up here being nosy. But he should have at least refastened the lid to the trunk.
“It’s a lovely room,” Viktor said quietly.
She turned, plastering a professional smile on her face. If he’d noticed anything amiss with his belongings, he wasn’t letting on.
“It’s the nicest suite we have,” she informed him. “Let’s go check out the other two.”
He smiled back and followed her into the corridor again.
Her hands shook a little as she opened the door to the Onyx Room. She was prepared for more of Howie’s shenanigans, but thankfully, everything was just as she and Hailey had left it.
Viktor stayed in the doorway, watching her.
“Okay, let’s get Quartz opened up,” she said cheerfully.
The Quartz Suite was across the hall from Sapphire. She opened the door and saw the curtains were pulled back, revealing a sky full of stars.
“I’m so sorry about the curtains,” she said, rushing over to close them.
“It’s fine,” he said. “You can leave it.”
She turned back to him.
He was gazing at her in that curious way again. The starlight made his blue eyes bright.
“Let me know if you need anything,” she said weakly.
“I will,” he said, remaining motionless. “What’s your name?”
“Dru,” she said. “Short for Drucilla.”
“Lovely,” he said softly.
“Uh, thanks,” she replied.
She felt an odd aversion to going closer to him, as if approaching would break the strange spell he had cast over her.
“I should get back to the desk,” she said, overcoming her reluctance and heading over. “Here are your keys.”
He put out his palm and she dropped the three sets into it, not wanting to risk touching him.
Get a grip, Holloway, she chided herself. You’re at work, not a seventh-grade dance.
“I will see you again, Drucilla,” Viktor said softly as she headed down the corridor.
Dru shivered again at his words, her heart beating just a little too fast. She couldn't quite tell if she was afraid, or aroused.
She was pretty sure she was both.
4
Dru wandered back down the stairs.
The lobby was empty again. The crackling of the fire and the hush of the wind outside were the only sounds.
She went back to the computer, and logged in the arrival times for Viktor and the Wilders.
Then she headed back to the Ghost Getters forum.
There were a couple of members on. Different time zones meant there was almost always someone online, even in the wee hours.
She figured it was a long shot, but maybe someone there could help with the journal.
Tad Strange:
You’re back! See any ghosts?
BethsMom1972:
Hi, Ghostwriter, so glad you made it safe and sound. Did you do a bedbug check? The newsman makes it sound like it’s a real problem in vacation areas.
Gh0stwr1ter:
Hey guys, I’m good! Thanks for the tip, BethsMom. No ghosts yet but we had a weird guest. Does that count?
BethsMom1972:
Oh, and don’t take anything from the mini-bar. It’ll be too expensive. You can normally get the same stuff from the kitchen for half the price.
Dru smiled. BethsMom was so wholesome and obviously older than most of the other members. It sometimes seemed like she didn’t belong in the group at all. But she was really into the Ghost Getters show, and true crime shows and podcasts too. Her knowledge was impressive.
Gh0stwr1ter:
Don’t worry, BethsMom, I’m on duty - no drinking for me.
TRUTHS33K3R:
tell us about the weird guest
Gh0stwr1ter:
He checked in after midnight.
TRUTHS33K3R:
could b a lot of reasons 4 that
Gh0stwr1ter:
Yeah, for sure. But he had all these really old trunks sent ahead and he wanted all his curtains drawn even though his rooms have the best views in the place.
BethsMom1972:
What did he look like?
Dru felt blood rushing to her cheeks, even though no one could see her or possibly realize she had just the slightest bit of attraction to the odd guest.
Gh0stwr1ter:
Early 30s, maybe? Pale skin, dark hair to his shoulders, blue eyes, intense stare…