She stood up from the table, nearly fell over, and regained her balance. A band was just setting up near the fountains. There was a crowd forming, everyone laughing and shouting. The house speakers were blaring something loud with thudding bass, not entirely unpleasant. Had she not been so drunk, she might have stuck around and tapped her foot for a while longer. Instead, she made her way through the crowd, back through the dining room.
The feedback blared through her ears, made her feel even more dizzy. The speakers bored into her skull like a parasite.
Until the restaurant doors closed behind her and she was alone in the lobby.
The noise from the bar ceased. The sounds did not fade but stopped altogether, as if a switch was turned off somewhere. The silence was pure, like they’d gone camping in the mountains themselves. Aside from the ringing in her ears, the world had become a vacuum.
All at once she was aware she wasn’t alone. She could feel someone standing nearby, watching. Waiting. There were eyes boring into her, perhaps hundreds, observing her. In the closest window’s reflection she saw something standing behind her.
She spun around and nearly screamed. Doris stood behind the counter. The computer’s glare made her pale face a ghostly shade of blue.
Audra was not relieved. If anything, she felt more on edge. She did not like the idea of being alone with the woman.
Doris looked up from the screen. “Evening, Mrs. Carter.”
Audra swallowed. Her tongue was a dried-out sponge. “Evening.”
“Enjoying ourselves a bit too much, are we?” She pointed toward Audra’s hand. She had brought her half-empty whiskey sour along with her, had not realized the glass was still in her hand until now.
“Sorry about that. It’s been a long day of travelling. My mind is elsewhere.”
“It’s against hotel policy to drink in the lobby, I’m afraid. You can leave it with me and I’ll dispose of it.” She waved Audra over to the desk.
Audra unconsciously backed away toward the elevators.
There’s nothing unconscious about it, she thought. You just don’t want to be near that woman and who could blame you?
“Don’t be afraid,” Doris said. “I will be most discrete. It will be our little secret.” She smiled and again Audra had the impression the woman’s face was not her own. The skin was more like weather-beaten leather than wrinkled flesh. It was a mask of some sort. Somehow she knew this to be the truth.
As Audra stepped closer, her mind screamed a warning. Her body came alive with tingling, Morse code telling her to turn around and head for her room, which seemed impossibly far away now. She’s just a woman, she told herself. Maybe she has scarring or maybe it’s a botched plastic surgery job but there is nothing out of the ordinary going on.
Doris reached out for the glass with shriveled hands. The fingers seemed too long, threatening to slide off at any moment. Dark veins lay just beneath the surface like worms competing to slither their way topside. “Don’t beat yourself up too much. You’re not the first person to sneak a drink out with you. We’re only human after all.”
One of us is at least. Audra forced a smile, held the glass out, telling herself Doris did not have a jaw that could unhinge itself without a moment’s notice. She set the glass on the desk and recoiled her hand like she’d touched a wasp’s nest.
Doris grabbed the glass and set it down near the computer. “There we are. I’ll sneak this back into the kitchen when no one’s looking. Although I doubt there will be a need for discretion at this hour. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.”
Audra looked through the glass at the restaurant. The crowd was larger now and the band had begun to play, though the music was silent, the doors blocking out all sounds somehow. It was disorienting to watch the mute movements and hear nothing at all. It didn’t seem possible, like the architecture defied physics. Surely she should’ve heard the drums or the guitar or something other than her own pulse.
When she looked back at the desk, Doris was leaning toward her.
Audra jumped back a few steps, her heart travelling up her throat.
“You should go get some rest,” Doris said. “You’ll need it if you plan on running away again.”
Audra had heard incorrectly. Her mind was filled with guilt and it was finding ways to manifest. But if that was true, then she’d misheard Doris twice today, and that seemed unlikely.
She did not bother to ask what Doris had said. Instead she walked away without saying another word. Several times she turned around, fully expecting the woman to be following, though there was nothing but shadows that didn’t seem to belong to anything in particular. At the elevators she pushed the button for the tenth floor over and over, hoping it would make things go faster. The car was at the top, its descent so slow it was maddening.
Eventually she settled on the stairs.
Chapter Seven
Audra woke some time later in the night or perhaps early in the morning. The sky was pitch black through the window, though some of the attractions were still lit. The neon lights did not seem to penetrate the shadows above. She thought at first she’d woken on her own but then she felt Vince’s hand on her breast, his thumb circling the nipple. She was too tired. She told him to go back to sleep but he persisted. Her body began to react though wasn’t feeling particularly frisky. Eventually she gave in. She turned into him, felt his cock stiffen against her.
They had not made love in a few weeks. The last time had been a quickie while the boys were watching television downstairs. It had been nothing like this. Vince touched her like she was new to him, his hands exploring, finding places along her skin that seemed foreign.
She thought of waving him away. It was late and they were both exhausted. What if they woke Tim and Andrew? Who knew how thin the walls were?
But then she thought of Doris and her mask-like face and how scared she’d felt since they first arrived at the hotel and she decided it would feel good to be close to Vince. She reached down, took off her panties, and slid him into her.
She pressed her mouth into his neck to keep quiet. He increased his speed, in time with her grinding hips. She lifted her legs and tried to block out everything, the guilt, the fear, the stress, and managed for a time, until she came.
A few minutes later Vince came too. He caught his breath, still inside her and shrinking, and kissed her. “You should stop taking your pill.”
She looked into his eyes. “What? Why?”
“We should do it again, you know? We should have another one.”
“Another kid? Are you nuts? We already have two, one of which is a diabetic. How the hell could we manage another one?”
“We could do it. I know we could.”
She smelled beer on his breath. His eyes were distant, his face flushed and red. “You’re drunk.”
“So what? I mean it, Audra. We’re already a family, so what’s one more going to hurt?”
“Go to sleep.” She pushed him off of her, felt empty for a moment, both between her legs and some place much deeper. She stood up and wiped herself. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“No,” Vince said. “You’re going to walk away. You’re going to turn your back just like you do with everything. It’s what you’re best at.”
“It’s late, Vince. Get some rest. You’ll feel better in the morning. We’ve got plenty of roller coasters to ride tomorrow. This is your favorite place in the world. Remember?”
He didn’t say anything. She wondered if he’d nodded off or if he was ignoring her. She assumed the latter as the stepped into the bathroom, turned on the light, and shut the door behind her.
When she looked into the mirror she realized that she hated herself.
He was a good husband for fuck’s sake. He’d never done anything to hurt her. He provided for his family like it was a reflex, without so much as a complaint that he was tired or overworked. But she’d told him time and again this life was not for her. She’d already compromised too
much. She’d let pieces of herself go over the years. They’d flown away in the wind and now she was a husk of the old Audra. The tattoos were still there but the soul had gone away. She wasn’t so sure she could ever get that piece back.
He was trapping her and not for the first time. Another child would fix nothing, would only make things worse.
It would make you stay, and that’s what he’s hoping for. That man is anything but dumb. He can sense you drifting. He knows what comes next.
She turned on the shower, waited for it to heat up. The room seemed frigid now, the air conditioner working double time against the temperature outside. She rubbed her arms while she waited, trying not to look in the mirror again. Her eyes threatened to close as she began to cry. She wanted to sleep for the rest of the week, perhaps longer. She wanted blackness.
In her mind, she slid the shower curtain aside and saw Doris, waiting patiently, ready to show Audra what rested beneath her mask of skin. The woman’s teeth grew exponentially, sharpened blades that could cut through flesh like it was merely construction paper.
You should get some rest. Her voice was raspy and robotic.
Audra nodded. Yes, she should.
You’ll need it if you plan on running away again.
When she slid the curtain aside in reality there was nothing but soap and steam. She stepped into the shower and turned the heat up as far as it would go, hoping it would wash away all of her bad thoughts. It worked for a while but then the water went cold. It still wasn’t good enough.
***
In the dream Tim was dead.
At least Andrew thought he was dead. His brother didn’t seem to be anywhere. It was Christmas or Easter or some other cause for celebration and Andrew tore at a rectangular box, desperate to see what lay inside.
It felt good to be an only child, to have his parents’ uncompromised attention while they sat in the living room, nodding for him to go on. For once, the spotlight shown on him. Had his brother been around, his mother would have been checking his blood sugar, asking how he felt, taking all the goddamn fun out of every moment until Andrew didn’t even want to open the present anymore. But now, in this fantasy land, there was only Andrew and he basked in the glory of it.
His parents smiled and nodded, willing him to open his present. He tore the wrapping paper off and shook the box. It seemed to grow heavier in his hand and he swore he felt movement inside, not something rattling but actual fluid motion.
Had they bought him a pet? There were no air holes that he could see. He looked up at his parents and cocked his head.
Their faces seemed off somehow, as if they wore subtle masks. The longer he looked and the more he honed in on the details, he began to suspect they were not his parents at all but some sort of imposters. Their eyes were too wide and their skin seemed to have aged since the last time they spoke, deep wrinkles lining the surface.
The box began to shudder in his hands. There was something horrible inside, he realized, something deformed and slithering, some nightmare thing that threatened to eat him in one effortless bite.
He shook his head, opened his mouth to speak, though no words came out. How typical of a dream. Even in his unconscious mind, the place his thoughts went when he was shut out from the world, he could not enjoy himself. He could not be the center of attention for longer than two minutes, not even in his own personal fantasy.
No, he thought within the dream. You’re not taking this away from me. I know how this ends. It’s Tim in the box, isn’t it? He’s ready to pop out and say, Surprise, I ruined all your fun again. Or maybe he’ll be waiting outside the living room window if I look long enough. He’ll wave and let himself in and steal the spotlight just like he always does. Well, you can kiss that thought goodbye because I’m not giving into this. This is my dream and whatever I say goes.
He tossed the box to the floor, not caring what lay inside anymore. Whatever lay inside sped up its movements. Just as the lid popped off and some tentacled creature made its way into the open, he opened his eyes.
His heart thundered and his ears rang. He wiped away sweat despite the air conditioner.
To his right, in the neighboring twin-sized bed, Tim snored, oblivious that even in Andrew’s own dream his brother ruined everything. He thought about walking over there and pinching Tim’s nostrils. Not hard but just enough to cut off the oxygen for a few seconds. Or perhaps longer. Perhaps he would cover his brother’s mouth while he was at it.
He would have done it too, would have worked up the courage to make his brother pay for ruining his dream, had it not been for the thought that came quickly into his mind from nowhere in particular.
There’s someone standing outside the door.
He froze. What the hell was he thinking?
He was being silly, still recovering from the nightmare. His brain had not yet adjusted to reality. But the fear he felt now was much worse, something more concrete and indisputable. Perhaps his mind was playing tricks, recalling all the horror stories he’d heard about this place. He remembered the redneck at the gas station, looking as serious as could be, though Andrew’s dad had thought the man was just stupid and crazy.
A place like that deserves to be closed.
All things considered, Andrew did not disagree as he turned his head toward the door and saw two dark lines beneath, two feet blocking out the hall light, standing perfectly still.
There was someone just beyond the door, no more than twenty feet away from where Andrew lay. They did not knock or scratch. They simply waited, in no rush.
Had he or Tim locked the knob before bed? Andrew couldn’t remember. He would have liked to think so. It would be a relief to know that whoever was on the other side could not easily turn the knob and step into the room. But hotel doors locked on their own, didn’t they? Whoever was out there surely couldn’t be strong enough to bust it open.
Could they?
His mind began to work against him, forming an image of every horrible misshapen monster imaginable. First it was the squid-like creature from his dream, then it morphed into one of the robots from the movie he’d been watching earlier. Eventually it seemed to settle on one image in particular. It was a tall man in a baggy trench coat, the collar of which covered most of his face, obscuring what may have lay beneath the fabric.
It was the man Andrew’s father had brought up earlier that day, while talking with the redneck.
When my boys were younger, I had them convinced there was a stranger just outside our yard. Even named the guy.
Raymond.
It had been his parents’ way of scaring Andrew and Tim enough to never want to leave the yard on their own. Though Andrew pretended he wasn’t scared, he had always been terrified of the thought, not knowing when and if Raymond would be watching. Expecting the fictional man to burst through the fence at any moment.
It had been more for Andrew’s benefit than Tim’s. Tim had been the good boy. While his mother was cooing over her favorite son, tending to his blood sugar like a maid, Andrew would grow antsy. The sidewalk and street beyond would call to him. He would wander off.
So his parents had made up the stupid bogeyman and now Raymond was here and standing just outside the door, no matter how impossible it seemed.
Andrew turned to the neighboring bed, watched Tim’s chest rise and fall, a calm sleep that had no trace of nightmares in it. “Tim, wake up. There’s someone at the door.” Hearing his own voice aloud made him wince.
Had Raymond heard him? Had he been waiting for confirmation, to know for sure it was Andrew in this room and not some other scared boy?
“Tim, I’m serious. Wake the hell up.” He managed to unfreeze his leg and reach it toward the other bed, kicking his brother’s hip. Now that his foot was out from under the blanket, it felt exposed, like Raymond could smell the flesh from his position.
Tim did not respond. He yawned in his sleep, scratched at his nose, and turned over, facing the opposite wall.
Andrew
looked again at the door, honed in on the two square shadows beneath. He knew if he lowered his head just a bit, he would see two matching black leather boots, countless scratches and scuffs along the tips. If Raymond kneeled down and peeked through the tiny space, Andrew would have a perfect view of his peering eyes.
Eventually, Andrew slid the blanket off his body, feeling naked and helpless, though he wore boxers and a t-shirt, and headed toward the door to the balcony. He kept his eyes on the hall door the entire time, backing away slowly. It was still too dark to see the lock. He prayed it was clasped.
His back touched the glass door. He fumbled with the handle and slid it open, just enough to step outside. He shut it behind him, pulled up a chair, and sat down. Then and only then did he begin to slow his breathing.
Perhaps there was some credibility to the stories after all. Maybe a place like this did deserve to be closed. The redneck may have been missing a few marbles but he made a good point, one that Andrew couldn’t argue with.
Whatever had happened here, all those years ago, had been bad. He knew that much, felt it like he felt the breeze on his skin. The night had cooled down drastically. He shivered and wished he’d packed a sweatshirt. Down below, all of the rides were still lit and moving on their own accord, though no one rode them.
At first it looked like a ghost town, but the longer he stared below, the more he swore he saw movement, people walking around as if these were normal business hours. He squinted, tried to make out details but he was too high up. From here they were oddly shaped shadows and nothing more.
Those aren’t people, he thought, wondering where the words had come from and shivering at what they could mean.
In the center of it all was Dream Castle. In the day it had looked like a set piece from a fairy tale film but at night it had changed shape somehow. The edges were no longer smooth. The angles of the towers were jagged, like arthritic fingers. The stones threatened to crumble at any moment.
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