I awoke in the middle of the night, startled by voices directly outside my door. Whispering ever so frantically, they reminded me of two people who were running out of time and had to plan something very quickly but had trouble focusing, like young students in school. Then I realized they were not just two people; the voices belonged to two little girls. Frustrated already, I was about to get up when the doorknob started rattling as if somewhere was trying to come into my room.
Stranger things were happening now, though. A man came up outside and started talking to them. He was speaking in a strict, displeased tone to the two little girls, and they in turn answered him in the same, frantic little voices, muttering low enough that he could not understand. Then, the doorknob kept shaking as they tried to come in. Someone began throwing their weight into it.
Sitting up straight in bed, all of the noises went away. I was alone, and the strange dream was over.
..........................................................................................
I woke up the next morning and found myself drenched in sweat. I started to think that maybe everything was just a nightmare, which I had continuously, despite my therapist’s “best” efforts. After washing my face and shaving in the bathroom, I debated whether or not to shower again. I suddenly remembered all of the problems my car had last night, and how it was still sitting in the ditch beside a probably car-less road.
Crap, I thought. After going over to the phone, I called the mechanics, but nobody answered the phone. Are you kidding me?
Frustrated and tired, I decided to go downstairs and check out the hotel. Maybe they would have some food down there in a vending machine. Even though it was a short elevator ride down to the first floor, I decided to take the stairs instead. There were fewer people that way.
When I reached the receptionist desk, I found an older lady sitting there, half asleep. To my surprise, across the room there was a breakfast bar. For real? The hotel has a free breakfast, even though it looks like a third-world country.
I walked up to the long table full of food. Waiting in line behind an elderly man, the eyes of everyone in the room stared at me. Standing unashamedly of my horrid appearance, I looked around at each of them and individually glared until they would look away. Surprisingly, every single one of them continued to stare. I also realized that they never blinked, not even once.
Freaks.
After grabbing a plate half-full of whatever generic, probably nasty food had caught my eye, I sat down at one of the few two-person tables that were scattered at random around the room. How did I not notice these tables last night? The table I sat down at was empty; I did not need to deal with people right now.
Of course, because I did not want to talk with people, fate had it that a wo man came and sat down at my table across from me with her own plate of food, not even half as full as mine. She was not as tall or fit as me, but very pretty in her own way. Her blonde hair kept falling over in front of her eyes, and to be honest I was very attracted to her from the first time she sat down, even if I wanted to be alone.
“Hello there,” she said with a distinct northern accent.
Those northern people. Rubbing the sleep from eyes, I managed to say between yawns, “Hey.”
“This was one of the only seats left, so I thought I would just come sit. At least I won’t have to watch you take your dentures out like the rest of them,” she said with a smile.
I smiled and swallowed my bagel. “Yeah. So what’s your name?”
“My name is Emily. Yours?”
I said, “My name is Jedidiah, or Jed for short.”
After a few minutes of awkward silence, I asked, “So what
do you think of this place?”
“The hotel you mean? Well, it certainly is unique. Gives me the creeps, really.”
Remembering my dream last night, I asked her curiously, “Why do you say that?”
She took a sip of her coffee before answering, “Have you ever heard of Massacre Max?”
“Who?”
“Well,” she began, “they say that he is a ghost who haunts this place.
The legend of him is pretty gruesome to be honest, and scares the heck out of me.”
I laughed and commented, “Well, I don’t get scared very easily. Sounds like a dumb name, really. All those folk legends have dumb names.”
“I agree. I used to be a crime reporter, but now I mostly freelance for different magazines since my job was cut from the paper. My new job requires me to travel around the country and report on things like that.
Supposed hauntings and stuff, you know, but I doubt any of it is true. I have to write columns about them, so that’s why I’m here. This particular story is pretty freaky.”
“Sounds pretty lame, especially when the ‘ghost’s’ name is Max.”
She just smiled and shook her head. “Well do you want to hear the story or are you going to act all ‘Mr. Fearless?’ I bet I can scare you by telling it.”
“Go ahead and tell me, but I doubt I’ll be scared at all. I’m not the type to get nightmares easily,” I lied, trying to impress her. After clearing her throat, she began dramatically, “Once upon a dark, dark night, a long time ago….” and we both laughed. She continued, “This hotel, back in the day, used to be a really busy place, or that’s what the Internet says anyhow. So there was this man who came in here one night, and he called himself Max when he bought a room. Along with him were two little girls who had bright red hair. They checked into a room on the top floor; at the end of the hallway, most versions of the legend say.
“That night, he went on his ‘massacre.’ They started at the top floor, going room to room and killing people in the most horrific ways. First, they would gag the victim to keep everything quiet while they worked. The two little girls would hold the victim down while Max did horrible things to them with all of his tools. He normally carried a knife, a rope, and an axe. If half of the rumors were true, this man must have been a surgeon or something. He had a sick, twisted, horribly imaginative mind.”
“Isn’t that what most legends say, just to draw people in?” I asked skeptically.
“Yes, I know, although it clearly hasn’t done much for this business. Anyway, let me finish.”
I nodded to her and she continued with the story. “After Max and his little girls went down to the second floor, they were met by a janitor. Max grabbed him and left his little girls to kill the visitors on the second floor while he went down to the first floor. They were, after all, just as horrible as him.
“Arriving there, he found two cops at the front door. Nobody knows why they were there, but they saved many lives. Some think that a guest had called the police, and some believe it was just great luck that they were there. Whatever the case, seeing he had a man captive, they shot Max immediately, who with his last words said, ‘You’re coming with me!’ and slit the janitor’s throat with a knife. Nobody knows what happened to the little girls, but most say that they were killed or escaped and then died later in life, without resurfacing ever again. The story goes that their spirits are still on the third floor, where the whole massacre began. Max even comes to visit them sometimes, and there have been a few sightings of all four sitting around the vending machine: Max, the little girls, and the janitor. Some of the most hardcore believers say it is only a matter of time until Max once again will lash out, most likely at this very hotel.”
I just looked at her incredulously and laughed to myself. “I’m sorry to say, but that didn’t frighten me at all.”
She just shook her head and smiled again. “Okay then. I guess you are Mr. Fearless. I’m definitely not.”
“I can’t see why,” I mocked teasingly. “With an obviously fake story like that, it’s a surprise anyone is frightened.”
“Well, I really am and staying here by myself is unnerving.”
I laughed and took a sip of my coffee. It burnt my tongue, and I spit it out all over the table as we both starte
d laughing. Everyone else looked at us as if we were crazy, but it was not important what the old geezers thought.
“I have something to ask you, if you don’t mind,” Emily asked.
When I didn’t respond, she went ahead and asked, “I’m going to be here for another night or two gathering more information for my column. Would you mind staying here with me? I mean you don’t have to sleep in my room or anything. I know this is kind of a big favor to ask, but you could just, like, book your room for another two nights. I get really scared with nobody else I know here, and it would be nice to have a friend. We are in the middle of nowhere, after all. I haven’t seen any other towns for miles around.”
Well that explains the mechanics not answering. They’re probably hours away, I thought to myself. “Yeah, I’m on a business trip but I guess I can stay. Only for one more night though.”
Ten minutes later, we stood up to go and she hugged me, thanking me once again for staying. I admit, I liked the contact, and this girl was really attractive. It was my pleasure to stay another night with her; maybe it would turn into more nights after.
We rode the elevator up, and after she went into her room to shower, I went into mine as well. I noticed a cup of coffee on my bed-stand and remembered that I had not drank anything since last night.
What, does room service give away free coffee too? I thought before noticing a note next to it. It read:
Drink lots of coffee today, so you’ll have the energy for tonight. Lots to do and can’t wait to meet you-
Max.
To Read Part 2 of many stories, and so many others, buy it on amazon !
If the price is too much, email me and maybe we can work out a lower price range. (I have that power.)
About The Author
My name is David Duane Kummer. I'm a freshman in high school, with a published novel and a collection of short stories.
I live in a small, river-town on the Ohio River in southern Indiana. Along with taking care of younger siblings (I have eight total), I make time for writing in between school and sports.
I've been writing since I was young, with As Trees Turned Away being my first published work and She being my first published novel. Along with writing, I am an avid reader and watcher of all things horror, and enjoy writing reviews on them for others who might want to know my opinion on them.
When I'm not writing, I enjoy talking with my hilarious friends and amazing girlfriend, spending time with my loving family, watching movies, and working out to burn all of the calories I get from binge-eating Hawaiian Rolls. Those things are really addicting, am I right? I'd rather get payed in those than money.
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