"Room
218"
By
RD Rivero
Introduction:
I
was eating dinner in the late evening in peace when Wileykat knocked on the
door and entered the room. He sat at the table opposite me. I offered him a
glass of water but he declined.
"Where
did you get this?" I asked when he handed me the letter.
"From
the mailbox. It arrived while we were in the lab."
"It's
addressed to us. Why don't you open it? I'm almost finished."
The
letter was from DomeTone, a colleague of mine before he turned to the
paranormal. We kept in touch through the
years. From our visits here and there around the galaxy I had met Etreum, his
mentor. Etreum was an old man by now, I supposed, infamous in many scientific
circles for his research into the occult.
DomeTone
really wanted to see me again, "one last time," to quote the letter.
The message invited Wileykat and me to attend his latest investigation. Stapled
to the handwritten document was an annotated map with directions that led into
the outskirts of a familiar and populous Wollo city nearby. We were asked to
arrive either by eight or eight thirty.
I
looked at Wileykat, neither of us spoke for a minute or so. I wanted to go. I
had nothing to loose and certainly nothing else to do. I was bored to death
stuffed in Cat’s Lair. My apprentice, on the other hand, could be comfortable
in a pine box as long as it had a view.
He
did not want me to go out alone into the mean city so he decided to tag along.
His reluctance was high, I told him that I, too, had little faith or confidence
in the matter. DomeTone, for his faults, was a good friend, it was only proper
to show up, if it was indeed to be for the one, last time. I assured Wileykat
that we would leave whenever he wanted to.
Part
One:
When
we left Cat’s Lair that night the moon loomed behind thick, black clouds. The
air was as chilly as it had been for the whole week, highly unusual for the
month of August. It was actually not a long walk to the city. The streets through and around the better
parts of town were busied by a steady stream of jabbering pedestrians but only
the slightest number of vehicles. Still, we were surrounded by the constant and
unyielding noise of early civilization.
By
the time we entered the dead streets the cold was undeniably omnipresent. There
were no lights and only one or two vehicles passed by. There were no other
people on the streets -- that unnerved me more than anything else. The houses that lined the sidewalks were old
and dirty, not graffitied, not abused. Something, something was wrong with the
scene which was at once so enigmatic and at once so familiar. I did not know if
Wileykat was as aware of it as I was but I was sure at the time that the
ethereal architecture of the night affected him.
We
were conversing, questioning each other openly about the most trivial matters
in a way that was unmistakably unlike him. I guessed it offered him a
diversion, a direction or perhaps he wanted to drown out the sound of something
that only he could hear. In our own ways
we tried our best to feel at ease.
Rarely
would moonlight break through the clouds but to no relief. The long casting
shadows of those narrow, cavernous byways left us in almost total darkness. Had
a thousand moons shined from above it would have been no better.
We
arrived at last at the big house, the large building in the corner of Rizza and
Sirres. The big house was once a hotel, three or four stories high, its worn
out dusty facade was merely a remnant echo of a more barbarous past. Nothing
more. Silent, deadly silent. The only lit structure in an otherwise deserted
cityscape.
Surprisingly
enough the front door was unlocked.
The
lobby was a case study of organized chaos but I admit I had seen worse evolve
in my own lab. Five tables were arranged in a circle on what Wileykat believed
was a red rug. Upon the tables were open books with posted, scribbled notes,
scattered papers most typed, most hand written, tape recorders, cameras and
monitors that displayed a small bed chamber. The screens provided the only
light source. The front desk was another site of interest.
Only
the large staircase remained in absolute darkness. Suddenly a light came from a door behind the front desk. A small
figure I recognized instantly to be Snarfer approached. "Tygra and
Wileykat. We have been expecting you. Come this way."
We
followed him through the door into a small complex of antechambers: a break
room, a changing room, a waiting room and then an office. That is where we came
upon DomeTone, a sturdy man, yet he looked so different. Frail. Even Wileykat
was taken aback.
Part
Two:
“My
friends, I knew you couldn't resist. You both know my assistant, Snarfer, he's
been my right hand for years. Sit, sit down and be comfortable." He
motioned us to a set of brown, leather bucket seats in front of the formal desks.
Snarfer rested himself on a stool next to the door.
DomeTone
took the time to write in a large leather bound book before he continued.
"I'm
sorry I couldn't say much in the letter. I wrote it in such short notice. You
all know what I do for a living and you all know the familiar attitude with
which I'm faced. The two of you have been very kind to me, you've never
abandoned me, never tried to convert me and never tried to debunk me. That's
why I feel I can trust you."
"Our
friendship is without question," said Wileykat.
"I
appreciate that. I have enjoyed the
times we’ve spent together. You're one of few scientists who have genuine
interests in what people like me do."
Here
DomeTone put down his pen and closed his book.
"This
hotel fascinated Etreum, he had always wanted to study the particular
phenomenon here. For decades he collected every last bit of information about
the Claudian Hotel." He handed me a large binder full of old, impressive
documents. Most of the items were newspaper clippings and reports filled by
local Wollo authorities, there was even a snippet of an architectural plan of
the building. Wileykat was far more eager than me to get his hands on that
binder so I gave it over to him. "He wanted to examine these grounds on
his own but he can't do that anymore. He died not too long ago."
"Died?
Etreum?" I said in utter disbelief. Even now I cannot believe that Etreum
could die. "Why didn't you tell me? How did it happen?"
"He
was aboard space ship to New Thundera. The pilot found him dead, in bed, in his
cabin. Etreum knew his time was coming, he told me so himself and I know for a
fact, in my business, that you know when the end is near. This, I said, will be
my last in depth investigation into the paranormal. I don't know how I can go
on."
"You're
going to retire?" I asked. I thought I heard a chuckle from Snarfer. I
could have been wrong.
"Yes,
you can say that, yes. I thought it would be fitting to do for my mentor in
death what he could not do in life."
We
paused for a while then he began again.
"This
hotel is haunted but just what that means is not entirely certain. Room 218 is
noted in the literature to be frequented by a hag. Now what is a hag? It's a
first earth legend This hag is an old
woman, dressed in black from head to toe. She even wears a black veil. She's
supposed to materialize in the victim’s room while the victim is asleep or
waking up. She approaches the bed and what happens next is a point of
contention. One version of the tale says it's all a dream so if you see her
approach but can still wake up then you live. The other side of the coin
asserts that she's 'real,' actual, physical. That version bears out the
evidence that's been recorded through the years. The only common denominator is
really simple. You're paralyzed as soon as you see her face. The legends are so
old very little else can be said with definity.
"What
I can say is that I have here fifty documented eyewitness reports of an old
woman, dressed in black, all from room 218. The woman approaches without saying
a word. The witnesses say that they felt threatened and overcome by absolute
terror mostly because of how her arms were outstretched but that there was
something else about her that 'ate up' their powers. The encounters end the
same, the witnesses scream and crouch on the ground so that by the time the
attending staff could come to investigate they'd find the witness writhing but
unhurt. One woman who experienced this phenomenon swears in her testimonial
that she had felt the fabric of the hag's clothes.
"That's
what struck Etreum and me. A witness who felt substance. It lead us both to
believe there was something going on, not a ghost or apparition. Etreum called
it a 'fear sucker,' an entity, a physical entity that feeds off the fear of its
victims the way a vampire feeds off blood."
"So
then the hag might be a person?"
"Someone
may have seen her around the hotel."
"Unless
she worked internally, as a staff member or maybe the staff was in on it."
"She
might have been able to control them indirectly."
"Perhaps.
Note that the incidents cover a period of over one hundred and fifty years.
It's possible that there maybe two or more generations involved in the matter
and if that's true who knows how many more there could be. I'd rather believe
that there's only one but we should be prepared for anything."
"This
hotel hasn't been used in years and Jagga only knows for how long these parts
of town have been abandoned. Do you think this hag still exists? That she still
comes here?"
"Fear
can be recorded in time and space. It's possible she could feed from the echoes
of past emotions. I do believe she has not left, that she's here, slumbering,
hibernating, sitting, waiting."
"I
think I get it," Wileykat said. "The hag's so hungry for new victims
that she'll come back here for us all."
"No,
not for all of us. This hotel in its heyday was always bustling but the hag
appeared only in room 218, upstairs on the second floor. Only that room. Shall
we go up and see?"
Part
Three: 9:00pm
DomeTone
took a flashlight that hung from the wall and led us out of the office. Snarfer
was left behind to guard the sanctuary. I have no doubt of his intelligence.
Outside the comfort of the back rooms the hotel was draped in the cloak of
darkness. Only the lobby was spared total oblivion from the before mentioned
monitors on the tables. The walls, floor and ceiling glowed in an aura of
faint, flickering blue gray.
The
stairs were another matter, a hellish tunnel so brutal I did not know whether I
wanted to lag behind or be the first to the top. When we all finally reached
the second floor I was sure I would be unsafe anywhere in that hotel that was
not engulfed completely in bright, strong light. Suddenly I was happier then
than I have ever been in my whole life only because I did not live in the age
of candlesticks and kerosene lamps.
Room
218 was at the far end of the long hall. Could it have been any farther? I
prayed that the doors of the other rooms we passed were locked tight. I could hear
the breathing of innumerable hags, raging, wanting to be free and strike us
from everywhere around, pent-up behind those menacing door, doors that faded
like a foggy dream into the mist while we walked briskly by. To my complete
shock DomeTone opened the door of 218 to a flood of warm light.
The
hotel room was surprisingly intimate. There was a single, thin bed placed
between two large, square windows. I was immediately struck by the sight of it
and I struggled to tell myself that it was only a face the design formed and
nothing more. There was a night table and a desk with a mirror. There was a
wooden chest next to the open door of a powder room. The Claudian Hotel had
been renovated since its original construction some two centuries ago. There
was a tiny snippet of a closet.
DomeTone
had stuffed the whole chamber with his photographic equipment. The lights, for
example, were small spotlights. Cables ran everywhere on the floor. Next to the
bed was a small, hand held camera.
"Currently
there are no plans to demolish the hotel or any of the other parts of town
here. It's like the Wollo's forgotten that this place exists."
"Just
what do you intend here?" I asked.
"I'm
going to be the hag's next new victim. I intend to gather undeniable
photographic evidence. This is no ordinary camera. It's a black and white 8mm
and silent. The film is hard if not impossible to tamper with. It's also why I
need these lights."
I
happened to look out the window while Wileykat and DomeTone talked over the
final points of the grand plan. Out on the corner, in the fringe between the
blackness of the night and the glow that came out of the open windows of room
218 stood a figure. No. I tried hard to dismiss it as something as anything
else but to no avail. The figure did not stand fixed in place, it paced around
endlessly along that edge between light and darkness. I turned away in horror.
Adrenaline overcame me. I thought I was having a heart attack.
Then
I looked out the window again. I just had to.
The
figure was gone.
The
next thing I knew I shook hands with DomeTone and he hugged me. I must have
said something but I do not remember for the life of me. I left the room right
behind Wileykat. He held the flashlight in his fingers. The door shut abruptly
behind us.
"Wileykat,"
I said after we passed several closed hotel room doors. "Turn off the
light."
"What?"
"I
mean it, turn it off. I don't trust my
eyes."
He
stopped to look me over. With the click of the flashlight's switch we were off
again, racing down the hall in a mad dash. He led me down the steps with
caution. After what must have been an eternity we were back in the lobby.
"He
has the room under surveillance. The monitors on the tables in the front of the
hotel entrance show him in bed with the camera. Waiting."
"Do
you hear anything from outside?"
"No.
Nothing unusual."
"Let's
hurry back to the office. Let's not waste another moment out here in the
open."
Part
Four: 9:30pm
We
were prisoners of the night and could not leave. It was my fault. I was eaten
up inside. Wileykat tried to reassure me otherwise, that it was no one's fault.
He is a good apprentice and the forgiving sort. I was ashamed that I had gotten
him involved. There is a reason why I am my own harshest critic.
The
inner office was the only bunker of safety in that whole dead part of town. The
lights were kept low and dim by Snarfer's insistence. We spoke in nothing louder than a whisper.
Our only link to DomeTone in the room upstairs was a small, two way CB radio.
It was kept right atop the big desk before us all.
By
my prodding we barricaded the only door in to and out of the chamber.
Snarfer
kept still on the floor reading over DomeTone’s leather bound book. I learned
that it was a detailed journal of investigations that the two kept together.
DomeTone would enter the logs and Snarfer would check them to make sure that
the important details were neither missing nor distorted.
"Are
there any other books like this around here?"
"Why,
sure, he keeps one of Etreum's old journals where ever he goes. It's right
under the binder he had shown you earlier."
The
handmade journal had a table of contents and an index, scribbled notes along
the margins of certain pages along with numerous other papers stapled or posted
on. The entries were headed not by date but by subject, a thankful oddity.
I
looked up the word "fear sucker" and as it turned out there were many
different kinds. According to Etreum, ethereal entities need a source of energy
in order to thrive. He made some noise about zero point energy, his dive into
quantum mechanics was laughable. The written discussion ended in a belief that
apparitions required the stress, fear and anxiety emitted by their victims. If
I am to understand what he had said those primitive emotions released a form of
heat in an EMS frequency that the "ghost" used in a process whose
only organic equivalent is photosynthesis. He concluded by stating that the
soul sustained itself in a similar manner and hence its position deep in the
brain.
In
the next entry the picture got better. Organic creatures, if properly evolved,
could harness those emotional energies, primarily fear. He said that such an
entity could exist in complete safety. No doubt if it could feed from emotions
then it could control our perception of itself and of reality.
I
put the book away when he turned a little too philosophical for my taste.
I
needed to be invisible to that creature that had already sensed me, feed from
me. I would have to concentrate hard but then an unstoppable thought crept into
my head. If the hag did control the old hotel staffs for over a century, by
altering their perception, did that not mean that the hag knew about the
antechambers behind the front desk? Did it know how to get to us? I opened the
binder, I read the first incident report I stumbled upon, then another, then
another, each time my fears heightened.
That
was when it happened, our heads turned instantly to the barricaded door. I bet
they were all happy I had it obstructed the way it was.
We
heard the front door open the slam shut. That was followed by a wailing that
could strike fear in the dead. I was convinced then and there that no living
being could make such a sound. I had a yellowed file in my hand at that moment
and read the testimonial of a Mr. X, who right before he saw the hag, had heard
a strange, soul-shattering noise come from behind, the trumpet call of the
hag's presence.
The
footsteps were loud and followed each other at an alarming pace. I feared it
was headed to us but then the wailing faded, I hoped, or wished and dreaded
that it was so because the hag was going up to room 218. DomeTone's simple plan
was brilliant. He lured the hag, not a ghostly entity at all, to the room
upstairs by showing himself ready and waiting in the bed on the monitors in the
lobby.
I
looked around at everyone. I wanted to run, scream, yell, I wanted to have eyes
all over my head so that I could see every detail of the room and not be
surprised or horrified by the sudden appearance of anything. I did not want to
be caught off guard so the slightest movement of even one hair on my body sent
me into an adrenaline rush of insatiable proportions.
We
heard someone walking on the floor above us. The old wood creaked and groaned
under the pressure of the hag's intense gait. The howling siren reminded me of
the songs whales sing in the untold depths of the sea.
The
radio sputtered to life. There was not one of us who did not jump three feet
when he first heard DomeTone's voice break through the garbled static. "I have the camera ready. It's filming
now. I can hear her siren, it's her attempt to heighten the fear of her victim.
She's a second or so away from opening the door. I'll pretend that I'm asleep.
I'll keep my eyes closed. She's turned the knob all the way." I was amazed
that he could keep his control. It was as if he was resigned to what was
happening and what was going to happen. We heard the door slowly creak open, it
was followed by those footsteps, those heavy thuds that ended abruptly after a
few moments. The wail returned and we wondered why we heard nothing more from
DomeTone. "There is definitely a physical presence in the room with me.
I'm sitting up. She's touching me all over. I can feel her cold, cold hands. My
eyes are still shut."
"Don't
open them. For Jagga’s sake, keep your eyes shut. Don't look at it!"
"In
three I'll open my eyes. One, two," I screamed the loudest scream ever in
my whole life. I was fortunate Wileykat was there to put his hand over my
mouth. I could not have silenced myself on my own.
DomeTone
was still screaming, he stopped only long enough to catch his breath before
screaming some more. Something crashed on the floor, the radio was smashed
against the wall without damage, the last sound was that of DomeTone himself,
bouncing back hard against the bed. The wail along with the screams were
silenced and the whole world was eerily quiet again for a small while only.
The
loud footsteps returned. The hag was walking around the halls above, around and
around, never approaching the stairs all night. Only the echoes of the wail
remained to inspire terror like an unholy muse.
We
turned off the CB radio then killed the remaining lights of the office. The
three of us huddled close together. The minutes ticked away so slowly, so
frustratingly slowly time itself stood still.
Part
Five: 3:31am
I
do not know how I did it but I managed to sleep a few hours. Wileykat nudged me
awake. I looked around the room. A blue light lantern was on but I could not
find Snarfer.
"He
went up to check on DomeTone."
"Is
everything all right?"
"No.
Snarfer left an hour ago. For the past fifteen minutes I've received no word
from him. He made it to room 218 safely, he said he found the door wide open.
He reported what he found within. DomeTone is dead, stone cold dead. The eyes
and mouth were wide open." There had been no wailing, no foot stepping
since well after I had dozed off. For some reason Snarfer was just not
responding.
I
asked to know what time it was. The sun was due to rise shortly and I told
Wileykat that the best thing we could do was to run out of that place, run and
not look back.
Part
Six: 4:10am
We
waited a half hour or so for a sign from above -- in vain.
Wileykat
and I unblocked the office door. I told him not to use a flashlight and all I
took with me was that journal of Etreum's. It fit nearly into one of WileyKat’s
pockets. He opened the door and then we moved out. My first impulse was to keep my eyes shut but
for some reason I could not. Instead I felt that if I could keep my gaze fixed
on the floor I would still be all right.
Wileykat
and I walked through the small rooms and into the lobby. He stopped and I was
nervous. It was nothing, he told me and pressed on toward the front glass
doors. We passed the tables with the monitors and I looked even though I knew I
should not have done that. On the monitors I saw DomeTone in bed, dead. Snarfer
was on the floor next to the tragedy, he was not moving. The black and white
camera and the CB radio were no where to be seen. I saw no hint of the hag.
Wileykat
and I pried the front door open, it had jammed from the great slam the hag had
given it. My mind raced with the immediate possibilities: could it have been a
trap to detect our escape? I kept my suspicions to myself but Wileykat caught
onto my drift, his heart beat as fast as mine. When we were back out on the
street we ran as if every moment was the last. The roads were so deserted that
there was little reason to care about running on them, they were far smoother
than the sidewalks anyway.
Earlier
it had taken us a half hour to walk to the hotel, running would have taken less
time. We were going the right way I reckoned when some of the details came back
to me. The clouds were gone and the moon shone bright. The skies were starting
to blue from the slowly rising sun.
Wileykat
ran without slowing and I thought everything was going well until we crossed a
corner and I realized then why Wileykat was so swift. He had heard it before I
had seen it, he had probably heard it earlier, when we had walked through the
same neighborhood hours ago. A vehicle was chasing us, the same vehicle we had
seen driving through the abandoned streets.
"Don't
slow down, it's still on our tail." I looked into the vehicle to the
driver, I regretted not having done so earlier and doing so just then.
When
at last we stumbled into the busy streets of the more populous districts I
turned to the sidewalk. My apprentice was not nearly as out of breath as me. The
sun ascended. The vehicle as mysteriously disappeared as it had appeared.
Epilogue:
What
had DomeTone done? Did he know before hand the full extent of what would happen
to him? What about Snarfer? How much was he told or how much did he know and
not tell Wileykat and me? If it had been a secret suicide pact between them,
then why were we asked to come along?
An
afternoon, a week later, I received a large envelope from Officer Mandora -- I
had told her all about what happened in Room 218 at the Claudian Hotel. It was
DomeTone's last will and testament. I
had been named his sole inheritor. I received everything, including an
apartment in New Thundera, cluttered with more journals, books, binders,
magazines, manuscripts, pictures and video on just about every investigation he
and Etreum had ever conducted. It would take a lifetime to sort it all.
Just this morning Wileykat entered my lab with a
small package. I thought it was strange that he looked as scared as he was
until I read the label. It was from Snarfer. Without haste I opened the box to
find its only content, an 8mm reel of film.
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