The Haunted Halls

by Glenn Rolfe

  The Ice Queen slammed the door behind her, locking the shaman in to await his fate.

  Chapter Four

  Rhiannon slipped down the final steps on blood-covered sneakers, grasping the rail in time to counter her body’s lack of balance. She wasn’t about to become easy prey for the creep pursuing her. She crept forward, hunched over, her hair heavy with the coppery perfume of death and matted to her cheeks. Eyes darting left to right, lips trembling, hands shaking, she moved through the doorframe–an EXIT sign screamed of salvation, like the old neon Jesus Saves sign that hung over shelters in the dystopian films she used to watch with her cousin Jeanann. She reached out and shoved the chrome push bar on the door–it wouldn’t budge.

  Broken by the moment, Rhiannon laid her crimson-painted forehead to the glass and cried. Some part of her knew she had to move to survive; another part of her acknowledged the emotional break and found something in her sorrow cathartic. All her years of playing the tough girl, staying in control, maintaining the shield of a once-wounded child, all wanted to follow and flow through this invisible opening. She knew she should try to find another way out, but she could not pull herself away from the locked door.

  A voice down the corridor did it for her.

  “Rhiannon…”

  “Kurt?” she said, stepping into the hallway. She felt stupid saying his name out loud, but couldn’t deny the voice. Her bewildered mind demanded she be open to anything.

  “Rhiannon,” he said again. His voice was muffled. Moving down the hallway glancing at the carpet for any signs of the blood from the upper floor, she heard movement behind the closest door.

  “Kurt?” There was no answer. She reached for the door handle.

  What if he really is here? Impossible. But what if…

  Her hand was inches from the handle when the door opened. On the other side was the hospital room where she’d abandoned her friend. Kurt lay perfectly still on the hospital bed, his skin pale and bloodless. Rhiannon’s feet carried her inside. A grey tiled floor–cold and somehow threatening–led her to his bedside. The inner voice trying to shout about impossibilities was drowned by the hope in her heart. His eyes were closed. She reached out and placed her bloody hand on his face. His skin was cold.

  “What happened to you?” she said.

  Kurt’s baby blue eyes opened, swimming with a hollow mix of what was and all that would never be. Her lips quivered as tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. Her heart had only felt this bruised the day her deadbeat father gave up his parental rights. She leaned forward, placed her head on Kurt’s chest and sobbed on his hospital jonnie. Worried she might make him more uncomfortable she rose, ready to wipe the tears from her cheeks. A hand–cold as Death’s–clenched her wrist.

  The door behind her slammed shut.

  …..

  Jeff opened his eyes to find himself right where he thought he would–in the pool room. The lights were brighter than they should be or he was suffering from a concussion. He found a large lump on the back of his head, pulled away his fingers and saw blood. He remembered entering the room, chasing after Meghan, and then, nothing. Lee? Where was Lee? He remembered Lee yelling not to follow her.

  Jeff climbed to his feet, his balance unsteady. His head throbbed as he worked his way to the door. A bout of nausea gripped him, dropping him down on one knee. The vomit splashed the floor adding another not-so-pleasant odor to the room. After a moment, he got back up and continued forward.

  Someone passed behind the glass in the door, heading down the hallway. He could have sworn it was Meghan. He got to the door and tried the handle. It wouldn’t move.

  Just great. Lee, where the hell are you?

  “Jeffrey,” the voice said.

  He turned around faster than his aching head could appreciate and stumbled to the right using the wall for support. Meghan stood in the water, naked, beckoning to him.

  “That’s not her,” Lee’s voice screamed in his mind.

  “I’ve been waiting for this moment,” she said. “And besides, I’m not sure how many more opportunities we’re going to get.”

  He couldn’t find his tongue. His eyes, straining from the sharp lights around the pool, couldn’t resist her body. The tops of her breasts were peaking up from the water, calling to part of him in their own come-and-get-it kind of way.

  No. It can’t be her. None of this is right.

  “We’ve both made a lot of promises, spoken or otherwise, that we’ve not kept. I’m probably the worst of the two of us, but I’m hoping you’ll let me make things up to you,” she said, swimming toward him.

  “I can’t, I, I have to work–”

  “I don’t think so.” She reached the edge of the pool. “I think after tonight you’re probably going to need a new job…you and that little friend of yours.”

  Rhiannon.

  He moved back toward the door watching as the Meghan-thing placed her hands on the concrete lip of the pool and pulled her nude form into full view. His hand searching the door behind him found a frozen handle.

  “I want you, Jeffrey.” Her hands rubbed her breasts, moved to her pale brown areolas and pinched her nipples before sliding down the rest of her tight body. “Take me, right here, right now.”

  He watched her hands with the awe of a kid half his thirty-five years. He tried to pull his hand from the frozen knob, but couldn’t.

  “You really don’t have much of a choice in the matter.” She stepped up to him, her breasts pressing into his chest. She grabbed his crotch and placed her lips to his neck. “You might as well make the most of this night,” she whispered moving up to his ear, “it’s your last.”

  Ignoring her groping hand and soft lips against his skin, he tried to turn the handle again to no avail. He was trapped in here with this thing, this ghost.

  “Oh, Jeffrey, sweet Jeffrey,” she said, stroking his hair. “I’m much more than that.”

  Her grip on him tightened. “Ahhh,” he cried, his voice echoing in the great acoustic room.

  “Now, I told you to join me in the pool, and I expect nothing less.”

  The flesh of his palm tore from his hand as the Meghan-thing ripped him free and dragged him by the front of his pants to the water’s edge. Her mouth locked onto his, her tongue entering like a snake, dancing with his own in some hypnotic embrace. His mind and body were sluggish, his thoughts slow. Everything became perfectly clear as her teeth bit through his tongue and the awful taste of iron filled his mouth. He pulled a way, managing a couple steps back. His screams brought a smile across her bloody maw. She spit his tongue onto the floor then reached out and tossed him into the pool.

  Chapter Five

  Lee Buhl (his body lying unconscious on the hotel room floor) moved through a world of shadows. He knew it was a dream, but felt it was more. He was here for help, for guidance. He saw a wolf and a fox, instantly recognizing the power animals of his grandparents. He moved to them, bowed down, and planted one knee in the unseen earth at his feet. Fog rolled across all that he could see.

  The eyes of the two power animals gazed at him, acknowledging his presence, his desperation. They took turns speaking with him telepathically:

  “You seek counsel. Welcome, Grandson,” the wolf said.

  “You have drifted from us, from your heritage. You are not lost,” spoke the fox.

  “I’m sorry for the way I have used this gift. I’m–”

  “There is no time for apologies. What’s done is done. You must listen,” said the wolf.

  The fox sat before him. Lee bowed his head.

  “Look at me,” the fox said.

  He raised his eyes.

  “This spirit is powerful, but not unbreakable. You must light up its place of rest. You must burn the evil from its well. The demon must come to light.”

  “How can I–”

  “It has underestimated your faith, your strength. You must believe. You must be of the light. You must act now. Go.” The fox turned away, vanishing in the
foggy shadows. The wolf stared at him. The twinkle of his grandfather’s eyes flashed and then the wolf joined the fox in the place beyond his dream.

  Lee’s eyes flew open. The shattered mirror across from him reflected half of his face. For a moment, the eye he saw was the same as the wolf’s. He stood up and searched the room for any sign of the thing he’d confronted. Satisfied it was elsewhere he turned to the door. He knew the doorway was bound before he touched the knob. He grasped the silver knob in his hand, closed his eyes, and began the breathing exercises his grandfather had taught him. “This way shall open for the light. This way shall open to the light,” he spoke the words, not knowing where they came from, but trusting they were right. The knob turned. He moved into the hallway ready to rush to the rescue, but refrained. He would need his basket of supplies to attempt to thwart this demon.

  He spotted the wicker container down the hall where he’d left it before chasing after Jeff.

  Jeff.

  The demon had shown him lies.

  Jeff’s screams erupted from somewhere down the hall. Lee hurried back to his basket, gathered the few items which had fallen out, and spotted the bloody footprints and the crimson smudge on the chrome bar of the Exit door. A pounding from the room closest to him stole his attention. Lee set the basket down, slid to his knees, placed his fists on the floor and closed his eyes. He took three deep breaths and reached beyond his physical self. He projected himself through the wall and saw her. The girl, Jeff’s co-worker–she wasn’t alone.

  …..

  Rhiannon tried to break free from the Kurt-thing’s icy grasp, but it just continued to mock her with its Kurt-face–blue eyes turned into black pools swimming in from a world beyond. Rhiannon’s fear gave way to rage. She lashed out at the perversion. “Let. Me. Go.” She swung wildly at the appendage holding her hostage. Still, it held on. Done fucking around, she unloaded a barrage of punches from her clenched fist, pummeling the Kurt-thing’s twisting face. Urgency spurred her on as she thought of the man in black. Surely he was down here with her already. She looked around the room, combing the shadows in the corners for any sign of the man, all the while continuing to wail away at the face lying on the hospital bed. The hand around her wrist finally let go. She turned to see the damage she had inflicted and brought her hands up to her mouth. The face had caved in under her assault. She began to retreat back the way she’d come in rubbing the purpling spot around her wrist from the thing’s grip. She looked back to the bed–it was gone, the Kurt-thing with it. The room returned to normal. She was standing next to a large mahogany desk. Before she could breathe easy, her second floor nightmares returned.

  Spiders, cockroaches, and serpents of all sizes emerged from every dark possibility in the room. They were crawling up the edges of the desk, slithering over her feet below. Her raging bravery was extinguished immediately. She wasn’t sitting like some helpless girl through this mess again. Rhiannon ran to the door. When it refused to let her out, she pounded against it and screamed for help.

  “Hello, Rhiannon?” a male voice asked.

  “Yes. Who’s there?”

  “My name’s Lee. I came here with Jeff.”

  “Is Jeff out there with you?”

  “No. Can you open the door, or is it stuck?”

  She tried again. “It won’t open. It won’t open. You have to get me out of here.”

  “Okay, okay, give me a minute.”

  So far the bugs crawling on her and the snakes sliding over her shoes weren’t causing her any physical ailments, but her psyche was under full attack. “Please hurry,” she said. She closed her eyes trying to shut out the army of nightmares.

  The man spoke in a low tone, “This way shall open for the light. This way shall open to the light.”

  The door pushed inward, Rhiannon maneuvered around it and into the hallway swatting off the things that were crawling over her arms and face.

  “Hey, hey, stop.” The man followed her. He had high cheek bones, soft brown eyes, and a strong jaw. Part of her acknowledged his good looks; the rest of her urged caution.

  “You’re Lee, the guy Jeff met.” She was still searching her skin for the bugs that were never there. She was standing half-naked before this total stranger. Feeling a warmth flood her cheeks. “Where’s Jeff?”

  “I think he’s with the dark spirit.” He looked away as she buttoned the front of her shirt.

  “Which one?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The guy or the girl?” she said. “There’s more than one thing haunting this hotel.”

  Chapter Six

  “There you are,” Timothy said, stepping from the room the girl had just escaped. He stood with his hands behind his back, moving his eyes from the half-naked girl to the young man with the shining soul. “And who is this?”

  “Run!” the girl shouted, grabbing her new friend.

  Timothy smiled as they headed in the direction of his Queen. His lust for death had been quenched tenfold, but he had a special feeling about these two. He started after them, stopping as something cold passed through him. He looked down at his chest, searching for the source of this foreign touch. A shape moved in the hall ahead of him. His smile fell. He thought of Kenneth, lying broken on the floor in room 209, and wondered if this presence had anything to do with the girl’s escape from the Ice Queen’s young friend. He thought of the portrait that should have rendered the girl unconscious and how it had instead, stopped in mid-air. He thought she had caught it, but now knew better. Whatever was helping her was weak, but present enough to interfere. No matter. He would put a swift end to its meddling.

  …..

  “Come on,” Rhiannon said, pulling at Lee. She hoped Jeff was all right, but wasn’t about to confront the man in black. She’d gotten away from him twice already and wasn’t going to push her luck. She stared straight ahead at the Lobby exit ready to bust out of this damned place and try to figure out a way to find Jeff.

  Halfway down the hall, Lee tugged on her. “Wait, we need–”

  “We need to get the fuck out of here,” she said, stopping near the entrance to the pool room. Visions of her dream (the waters filled with bodies and Kurt emerging from them) flashed across her mind. She shook the nightmare away and said, “Forget about it, come on. We need to get out.” She pulled at him, but Lee resisted.

  “You should listen to your little friend,” the man down the corridor said. “There’s nothing left here but death.”

  Rhiannon glanced back at the man in black, taking his time, hands behind his back as if casually strolling through the streets of Paris. “Come on.” She glanced down at the basket in Lee’s hand. “Or you can go have your picnic with him.”

  “We need to get to a room,” Lee said. “I can keep him out.”

  “What? No, no fucking way. We’re leaving.” A rush of cold air surrounded them. “Shit.”

  “No. It’s not one of them,” Lee said. He glanced back at their pursuer then pushed Rhiannon forward. “To that last door, go.”

  “No, we can’t–”

  “We can’t leave your friend. He came back for you. We cannot leave this place until I bring it to light.”

  Thinking of Jeff risking his neck to come back for her, sickened at the realization of her cowardice, Rhiannon relented. “Let’s go.” She could still feel the cool presence around them.

  They ran to the door. “I don’t have a key,” she said.

  “This way shall open for the light. This way shall open to the light,” Lee said. The door opened.

  “What did you? How did–”

  Lee shoved her inside. “No time.” He closed the door behind them then reached into the wicker basket in his hand. He pulled out a piece of chalk and began drawing a line around the entrance. “No darkness shall penetrate this passage. No darkness shall pass.”

  She was freezing. The cold had come with them.

  “I think you’re too late,” she said. “There’s something in here with us.�
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  “It’s okay. It’s on our side.” He reached back into the basket and hauled out a handful of candles, a bunched up thing of long grassy-looking stuff, and a small vile of dark liquid.

  “What’s all that for?”

  He set up the candles in little tin holders, placing two behind him, one to his right, one to the left, and handed her the last one. “Here, place this behind you. Line it up so that it completes the pentagram.”

  She noticed the star pattern and thought about asking him if he was a devil worshipper. Instead, she did as she was told. She put the candle in place and waited for him to hand over the lighter. He finished lighting the last one to their left and then the bundle of grassy stuff. The earthy smell it gave off was somehow calming. He handed her the lighter.

  “Light the candles,” he said, picking the chalk back up from the floor and placing it by her feet. “Then draw a circle around us with the chalk. Quickly, we’re running out of time.”

  She did as he instructed, lighting the candles, spinning around for the chalk and drawing the circle around them. She stepped back to her spot waiting to see what happened next. Lee blew out the burning grass and waved it around them. After a few seconds, he pulled out a small ceramic plate from the basket and placed the smoking bundle in the center. He grabbed the glass vile, popped the top, and drank it down.

  “Take my hands,” he said. She did. A thousand questions demanded answers, but there was no time. She watched him close his eyes, raise his head, and begin.

  “I am already given to the power that rules my fate. I cling to nothing, so I have nothing to defend. I have no thoughts, so I will see. I fear nothing, so I will remember my name. Show me the light where there is none. Show me the truth,” Lee said.

  An energy, a vibration tingled through their connection. Rhannon closed her eyes and was someplace else. The hotel room was gone. She could hear the sound of rushing water and a crackling, like a fire burning in the woods. She opened her eyes and looked across from her–a wolf stared back. She was not afraid. It was him, it was Lee. And she could hear him.