The Haunting at Sebring Hotel (A Riveting Haunted House Mystery Series Book 13)

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The Haunting at Sebring Hotel (A Riveting Haunted House Mystery Series Book 13) Page 10

by J. S. Donovan


  Lance sat up, holding his bloody elbow. “Mother f—” he said the rest of the word through his clenched teeth. He sat up the best he could with one arm.

  A branch had sliced open a large cut on his cheek. The water washed away the blood and flattened his spiked hair. He waddled. Lightning flashed in the distance, briefly illuminating his terrifying features. An instant later, Anna only saw his silhouette in the inky blackness.

  “No… no.” Anna grabbed fistfuls of grass and dragged her torso across the mud and dirt.

  Lance limped towards her. “I wanted something exciting. This wasn’t what I had in mind.”

  Anna dragged herself a little farther and pushed against the earth, hoping to get to her knees.

  Lance grabbed her hair and yanked her back. Anna screamed, feeling like her scalp was about to get torn out.

  “The girls at Club Blue were always fighters. That’s what made them so special,” Lance said.

  He lifted her by her hair and tossed her aside like a rag doll. Anna landed on her back, facing the hulking man. His drenched clothes hung heavy on his bulky frame. He was a lot stronger than he looked.

  “Don’t scream again,” he warned.

  Fear gripped Anna.

  He dropped down on her.

  Anna reached for a nearby rock. It was two inches out of reach.

  Lance put his hand over her mouth.

  Suddenly, he threw his head back and gurgled in pain. All across his body, his muscles went tense. He fell to the side, landing on his injured elbow. He curled up, gurgling so much he couldn’t move. His hands and fingers curved inward like gnarled branches.

  Anna followed the two string-like lines running from Lance’s back and to the stun gun in Agent Cameron’s hands. He held down the trigger, pumping thousands of electric volts into the rapist.

  15

  Silence

  The windshield wipers fought the onslaught of rain but the storm grew fiercer. Justin kept one hand on the steering wheel. Stealing his mother’s SUV was an impulsive choice that he regretted the farther he strayed from Club Blue. He drove through town, barely able to see twenty feet ahead of him. He felt sickened, reminded of the woman’s bloody wounds and vile expression. Eyes bloodshot and emotionally exhausted, he reconciled why he was driving and where. Away, he told himself. Far away. His conscience beat him up. His mother and brother were still at the hotel. The woman could come back. Hurt them.

  His stomach rumbled. He needed food. His head pounded, but he had a high pain tolerance. He learned how to skateboard by falling hundreds of times.

  Behind torrents of rain, a chrome diner lured him in.

  He swiftly turned off the main road, his wheels splashing out a wave of water. He parked outside the diner. His heart nagged at him. Go home. You can’t run forever. But that thing in Suite 309 was real, more real than anything in his life. What was reality? Was he blind to the truth his whole life? Was it just the hotel or were there things like that everywhere? He shuddered. He became acutely aware he was alone in the dark car during a dark and stormy night. He needed shelter and someplace bright. The storm had him on edge. He adjusted the rearview mirror, examining the gash on his forehead. It was smaller than he thought. The bleeding had stopped, and the skin swelled. He used his fingers to brush his bangs over it. It didn’t hide the wound, but it made it less noticeable.

  Going headlong into the rain, he ran to the diner. He pushed open the front door. A little metal bell on the door signaled his arrival. Water dripped from his clothes and hair. The forty-foot run left him drenched.

  Keeping his head down, he moved to a booth in the back.

  The waitress approached. She was middle-aged and had teased blonde hair and a rough complexion. The discoloration on her cheeks hinted at a lifetime of smoking. “Can I get you a coffee, handsome?”

  “Water,” Justin said, keeping his voice down.

  “Looks like you got enough of that,” the waitress joked.

  Justin didn’t look at her.

  The woman said, “Alright, handsome. It’ll be right out.”

  Justin watched her go. He reviewed the menu. It had typical diner fare one would find at an IHOP or Waffle House. Justin could eat a horse. He settled for two steakburgers, a large order of fries, a milkshake, and a slice of pie for dessert.

  The waitress jotted down his order when she returned. This time, she noticed the gash on his head. “Oh my. Do you need a band-aid? Does it hurt?”

  “I’m fine,” Justin snapped.

  The waitress backed off. She put a hand on her hip. “Okay, but don’t get blood on my table.”

  Her sass infuriated Justin. He held his tongue. He didn’t want to be eating the chef’s spit.

  His phone dinged. Justin checked it. It was a text from his mother. She wanted him to come home. Justin put the phone face down on the table and leaned back into the seat. A few of the patrons eyed him. His hostile glance back caused them to look away. If he got one good thing from his father, it was the ability to intimidate others.

  The next ten minutes dragged on. He anxiously tapped his foot. Staying seated made him stir crazy. He had this feeling that he had to go back home. His mother was in danger, and so was everyone at the hotel. You can’t help them now, he thought. He hadn’t been able to protect his mother and brother from Father. How could he make a difference now?

  The waitress arrived, holding the tray of food. She placed it in front of Justin. She reached into her waist apron and pulled out a band-aid, which she put on the table. “Anything else?”

  “No,” Justin replied curtly.

  He squeezed ketchup on his burger patty. It sputtered out like blood before pouring normally. Justin took a large bite. It tasted like heaven. This diner might be the only thing worthwhile in Sebring.

  Lingering nearby, the waitress asked, “You sure you don’t want to cover that cut?”

  Justin’s death glare sent her away.

  He took another bite.

  In midchew, the diner door opened.

  A gaggle of high schoolers rushed inside. They laughed, having tried and miserably failed to escape the rain. Justin noticed a few of McKenzie’s friends in the mix.

  Hopefully, they wouldn’t see him… but they did.

  They stopped joking among themselves and gossiped quietly as they looked Justin’s way. His face flushed red in rage. His appetite vanished. He pulled out a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet and left it on the counter before storming out of the side exit. Shoulders boxed and eyes down, he huffed and crossed through the rain. No amount of persuading would change their perception. He’d always be the guy that ruined McKenzie Michaels, as if she was a saint before they hooked up. That girl had been a cock carousel for years. That was how Justin got her so easy.

  Justin sat in the Sorento. The other students gossiped at their table. He regretted leaving his food. It was too late to get it now. He told himself that he didn’t care, that it didn’t matter he was homeschooled like a sheltered loser. Deep down, he felt lost, regretful, and bitter. Maybe the bloody woman was a twisted manifestation of what was inside of him. He tried not to think too much into it. He didn’t want to snap like McKenzie.

  A thought came to mind.

  He quickly left the diner and drove through the web-like neighborhoods around Sebring until rolling to a stop outside McKenzie’s house. Two cars were parked in the driveway. The kitchen light was on. The TV played in the living room. McKenzie’s room was dark. He parked in front of the house next door and turned off the headlights. He set his jaw. After a long moment of contemplation, he shut off the car and got out.

  The freezing cold downpour caused him to hug himself on the way to the house. There was a screened porch jutting out of the building. He could climb it if he needed and scoot his way to her window.

  He looked around the grass. The darkness of night made it impossible to find any throwable pebbles. Turning on his phone light would alert the neighbors. They probably thought he hurt McKenzie as
well. He blindly dug around in the bushes near the house, grabbing a few sticks and snapping them into small pieces. He walked back ten feet and chucked the broken twigs at McKenzie’s window. Every time he hit, he glanced around, making sure no one had seen him.

  After two minutes of waiting in the rain, Justin concluded she hadn’t heard him or wasn’t home. His shoulders sank and he started back to his vehicle. He twisted back one last time, seeing McKenzie’s silhouette standing on the other side of her window.

  Justin waved at her. He mouthed, “Can I come in?”

  The rain distorted McKenzie’s face.

  “Screw it,” Justin mumbled and jogged to the screened side porch. He grabbed onto the bars between screen squares and pulled himself up to the room. He was careful to stay on the metal railing as stepping on the screen would send him falling through. The wind pushed him off balance. He stayed hunched and walked one step at a time. Sheets of rain slapped him. He spat out water. He took the last step, reaching the wall. He rested against it.

  “Open up,” he said, waiting for McKenzie to get the window. She didn’t, and he didn’t want to be left hanging on the sill.

  Much to his surprise, the window actually opened. Using her hand to guard her face from the rain, McKenzie stuck out her head.

  Justin hugged the corner of the wall. “Can I come in?”

  McKenzie looked confused.

  Justin said, “It’s about what you saw that night.”

  The wind screamed, tossing McKenzie’s hair. The rain fell harder. McKenzie’s eyes watered.

  “Please,” Justin begged. “I’m freezing my balls off.”

  McKenzie nodded.

  Justin reached far and grabbed the windowsill. McKenzie grabbed his wet forearm. Justin grabbed the sill with his other hand. His legs dangled. McKenzie helped pull him through. Justin flopped on the damp carpeted floor. She shut the window, preventing any more rain from coming in.

  McKenzie flipped the light switch.

  Justin sat up, shivering.

  She handed him a blanket.

  He wrapped himself in it.

  McKenzie sat at the corner of the bed. She didn’t bother to wipe the rain from her make-up-less face. Her eyes had heavy bags. She wore a large t-shirt and sweats. She smelled faintly of body odor.

  Her room was a cluttered mess. Clothes littered the floor. The books and notebooks covered the desk. The ajar closet door revealed a collection of childhood toys and dolls that had been haphazardly crammed inside. Old family pictures and boyband posters clung to the pink walls.

  Justin pulled his knees up to his chest. He wanted to take off his wet clothes but had to avoid the wrong impression. He said, “There’s a lot of rumors about us.”

  McKenzie twiddled her thumbs.

  Justin said, “That’s it? You’re not going to say anything at all? I had to drop out of school because of it.”

  McKenzie focused on her hands. Her shoulders were bent in and her legs close together in a very guarded posture.

  “What’s wrong with you? Huh?” Justin asked.

  McKenzie was silent.

  Justin gave up. “Whatever. I didn’t come by here to talk about that anyway.” He took a deep breath. “I saw something at the hotel tonight.”

  McKenzie stopped moving her thumbs.

  Justin said, “It was a woman. Her neck was cut open. Someone stabbed her in the stomach. She… she started screaming at me. She tried to get me. Is that what you saw too?”

  McKenzie shook her head. “I…” She stopped herself, unfamiliar with her voice as she was speaking for the first time since the incident. “I saw…”

  She shut her eyes and shook her head.

  Justin said, “Tell me.”

  McKenzie’s eyelids squeezed tight. She controlled her breathing. Regaining some control, she grabbed a notebook at the foot of the bed. She flipped through the pages. Not bothering to look at what was on it, she handed it to Justin. “Him. I saw him.”

  Justin reviewed the pencil sketch of a well-dressed man with his face torn off. His eyes were large and wide, having no eyelids. The cuts around his jaw and ears appeared to be surgical.

  Justin lowered the notebook. “Did he try to hurt you?”

  McKenzie opened her mouth, but no words came out. After a second, she managed to say, “He was still there in the corner.”

  “For how long?” Justin said.

  “Even after you carried me out of the room,” McKenzie replied. A tear trickled down her pale cheek. “I still see him.”

  “Where?” Justin asked. The hairs on his arms stood.

  McKenzie raised her shaking finger, pointing at something behind Justin.

  Justin’s heart skipped a beat.

  He slowly turned his head to the dark corner of the room. “I don’t see anything.”

  McKenzie trembled. She whispered, “He’s looking right at me.”

  Justin still saw nothing.

  McKenzie’s breathing quickened.

  Justin stood up. He put on a brave face and walked to the corner. He brushed his hand against the wall. “Am I close?”

  Suddenly, a wave of cold flashed over Justin. The temperature must have dropped twenty degrees. He quickly moved back a step.

  The temperature was normal again.

  The color left Justin’s face. He kept staring at the corner, terrified to see what would happen if he looked away. “What does he want?”

  “I don’t know,” McKenzie whispered. “He follows me.”

  Someone knocked on the bedroom door, causing Justin to jump a mile.

  “McKenzie,” her father said. “I’m going to bed. You need anything?”

  The doorknob jiggled.

  “Please open up,” he pleaded. “Say something. Anything. I just want to know you’re okay.”

  “I’m… I’m fine, Dad,” she yelled.

  “Baby, you’re talking!” her father exclaimed.

  “We’ll discuss this tomorrow. I want some alone time.”

  “Okay, yes, I understand,” her father said, confused. “I love you.”

  “You too.”

  “Goodnight.”

  “Night,” McKenzie said.

  Her father lingered.

  Justin held his breath.

  The father walked away.

  Justin waited until he couldn’t hear the man’s footsteps. He said to McKenzie. “I should go.”

  McKenzie said, “Please don’t.”

  Justin replied. “If he finds out I’m here…”

  McKenzie stood. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

  Justin took steps away from the corner, still not looking away. “I’m sorry.”

  McKenzie’s face scrunched. She started to silently cry. “I just want him to go away.” She fell into Justin’s arms. “Why won’t he go away? Why?”

  Justin embraced her, but only for a moment.

  He needed to get the hell out of this town.

  16

  Butterflies

  “This way,” Asher led Raven through the third-floor hallway.

  “Will it be another skeleton?” Raven asked, intrigued.

  “Uh… no,” the fourteen-year-old said.

  The covered lights on the walls flickered.

  Raven grinned creepily. She loved the storm. She said it added to the hotel’s “atmosphere.” Asher wasn’t sure his mother would agree. Last Asher checked, she was down at the front desk. Something was up with Justin. It was supposed to be his night to work, but from Asher’s window, he saw his older brother speed away in Mom’s car. Asher finished his homework not long after and decided to show Raven something cool he spotted while cleaning.

  The rooms on the third floor were particularly intriguing. Each suite had its own shape and size. For a one-time visitor, you wouldn’t pick up the fact the rooms had different lengths and width, and thus wouldn’t know about the hidden corridors snaking throughout the hotel. Asher, having been from room to room many times, could guess where many of
the passages were located, but he didn’t know how to access them. Mom had not been forthcoming about how she found the skeleton, and she forbade Justin and Asher from going into the passage where she traveled. In fact, that entire suite was off-limits. They’d only rent it out if they had overflow. They haven’t been that lucky so far.

  Asher unlocked Suite 314.

  Raven proudly said, “I’ve made you into quite the explorer.”

  Asher said, “I’ve always liked exploring. I just want to avoid dust allergies.”

  “How long have you had asthma?”

  “All my life,” Asher replied and walked into the room. “I spent a lot of time in and out of the hospital.”

  “I bet you wish you’re free of that stuff,” Raven said.

  Asher nodded. “Who wouldn’t want to be? I’m allergic to grass. Grass! Like, how am I supposed to live a full life like that.”

  “You’d die if you went outside?” Raven asked suspiciously.

  “No, but I’d get very itchy and break out,” Asher explained as he walked to the bathroom.

  Raven asked, “What if you ate it?”

  “I’ve never tried,” Asher said.

  “Cool,” Raven lingered outside the open bathroom door.

  Asher gestured for her to enter. Raven followed. She glanced around. “A bathroom?”

  Asher walked to the empty space beside the shower and brushed his hand up the tile wall. “I was washing the wall, and—” His fingers brushed against a tile that depressed a quarter inch.

  Click.

  The wall inside the shower opened.

  “Oooh,” Raven said in awe.

  Asher grinned. “And you said you taught me how to explore. I found this one all by myself.”

  Raven stepped into the shower and peered into the gap. “It’s tight.”

  Asher replied, “I got through it.”

  Raven turned back to him. Her mouth was open in surprise. “You went without me?”

 

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