Storymania - The Old Hotel by Sman

The Old Hotel
Sman

The old abandoned Hotel sat back in the shadowy woods just off Route 214 in the town of Chichester, NY, deep in the heart of the Catskill Mountains. It was close, much to close to where I lived, and at night I would think about how close it actually was to my bedroom and where I slept. I would lie awake in my bed and imagine walking through the old, decrepit place at midnight, just me and a flashlight. The very thought would send shivers up and down my spine, and I wouldn’t get any sleep for the rest of the night.
My brother Tim and I, on a few occasions, explored the old place in the safety of the daylight. It had a large porch in front with 4 or 5 old wooden rocking chairs, where I suppose, people used to come up from the city to sit and enjoy the serenity and peacefulness of the woods and the mountains. Inside, there was a large room with an old, worn and dusty carpet. There were a few chairs with ripped, color faded fabric, with their metal springs showing. The walls were stained with water and had large cracks and peeling paint. There was an old staircase with dirty carpet and splintering wood. Upstairs was a long, dark hallway with its ceiling paint flaking down onto the creaky wood floors below. There were 5 rooms leading down the hallway, some had dusty, soiled beds and broken down dressers with broken windows everywhere. There was one room, however, that was locked and bolted shut. We always wondered what was behind that door.
One night, while sitting around the kitchen table, we decided to explore the old room. We had thoughts that the room contained something valuable. Why else was it locked up? We had to find out what treasures lay behind that wooden door. This would be a tough task, for we had tried to kick the door in on numerous occasions and failed every time. It appeared the door was made with a much heavier, stronger wood than any of the other doors in the old place.
This time, we would take a different approach. Instead of going in through the door, we would go up into the attic and come down through the ceiling. Ah yes, a very intelligent plan we thought. But the difference was we were going to accomplish this in the dark cover of night.
Finally, the night we had been waiting for was upon us. We tested our flashlights and were out the door. From the road, we cut into the woods and made our way through the trees and thick brush. The leaves under our feet rustled and crunched with every step. Suddenly, we heard a noise.
“Wait a minute, hold up.” Tim said. We stood motionless, listening for the noise to repeat itself. Then, we heard it again, far off in the woods. “Woo, woo woo; Woo, woo woo.”
“I think it’s an owl,” Tim said. “Let’s keep going.” Slowly we made our way through the woods.
The beams of our flashlights traversed the front porch of the old hotel as we walked up the steps. We stopped for a moment and listened. There was a slight breeze blowing through the trees and some rustling of leaves. We could hear the chirping of crickets in the grassy field out in the back of the hotel. Slowly we entered the place with our flashlights blazing. It was at this point I began to feel nervous. I asked Tim if he was scared. “Kind of, but not too bad.” He responded. “Just think about what could be in there. You never know, it could be something really cool, like old comic books or baseball cards.”
“Maybe, but why do we have to find out in the dark?” I asked.
“Because Old Man Wilson watches this place like a hawk during the day, you know that.”
“I guess. This place is creepy at night, isn’t it?” I questioned Tim.
“It’s not so bad. It’s just an old, run down hotel.” He said reassuringly. We made our way up the stairs and then up into the dusty old attic.
“We need to watch out for bats up here.” Tim warned.
“Well, won’t they all be out hunting for insects or something?”
“One would hope so.” He responded. We carefully stepped through the attic. The floor seemed to give way with each step. “Step on the planks of wood, not in between, otherwise, you’ll fall through.” Tim advised. I heeded his advice. The attic was filled with old rotting boxes, wood planks, old metal tools, and hundreds and hundreds of old magazines. It smelled of old, damp, yellowing paper and moldy cloth. Up in the rafters, among the wooden beams, there were many abandoned birds’ nests and a few bee hives as well. We finally arrived at the spot where the locked room was. “This is it!” Tim said excitedly. “All I have to do is kick a hole through the ceiling and we’re in.”
“Go for it.” I responded. He stomped down with ample force as his foot exploded through the ceiling, knocking out a football sized hole. Old plaster and wood fell into the room below. I shined my flashlight down through the hole into the room to examine its contents. Tim added the beam from his flashlight as well. There was an old dresser and bed, as well as what appeared to be a chair with a white sheet covering it. Suddenly, the smell of the room came wafting up through the hole. “Oh man!, what is that nasty smell?” Tim asked.
“I don’t know. Smells like something died down there.” I replied. It was a gruesome smell, like old urine mixed with dried up, decaying flesh, mold and rotting wood. “It must be a dead bird or something,” I exclaimed. The floor of the room was covered in bird feathers, from pigeons or some other birds.
We continued to work on the hole to make it larger, so we could get down into the room. I went first. I had to grab a hold of a wooden beam in the attic and dangle my feet down into the hole until they rested on top of the dresser. From there I could jump off onto the floor. As I dangled my feet down, I suddenly felt an icy rush of frigid air blow by my legs and up my coat. I yelled to Tim to shine his light into the room. “What’s the matter?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I feel something down there. There’s wind or something blowing against my legs. Can you see anything?” I asked nervously.
“There’s nothing down there.” He replied. “You’re getting yourself all spooked. Now come on, you’re feet are almost on the dresser. Just a little further and you got it.” I finally felt the dresser under my feet, and was able to lower myself down the rest of the way. I jumped to the floor with a loud thud. As I landed, old chips of paint and splinters of wood rained down into the room from the ceiling. “Come on, get down here.” I yelled up to Tim.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” He replied. Suddenly, as he was lowering himself down, there was a loud shriek coming from the attic. My brother suddenly began to shout, “What is that!... what is that!...ahhhh!”, as though he was being approached by some terrifying spectacle. I grabbed his legs from below and tried to pull him down into the room with me. But he wouldn’t let go, he just kept yelling. I shouted up to him to let go, but he wouldn’t listen. He just kept yelling as though he was being frightened to death. I reached higher on his legs and pulled with all my weight when suddenly, he fell into the room on top of me. Just as soon as he fell, the terrifying shrieking stopped. We both got up and dusted ourselves off. I looked at Tim’s face with the flashlight. It was as white as a ghost, and he was shivering with fright. “What did you see up there?” I asked. “What was it?” He looked at me with bulging horrified eyes and said,
“It...it was some ki….kind of phantom, a ghost, or something.”
“We have got to get out of here now.” I said. I tried the door, but it was locked solid and there was no way we could break through. The window onto the roof of the front porch was the only way out.
Suddenly, there was a loud crash coming from the closet inside the room. Tim ran for the window and tried to open it, but it was locked. He was fumbling with the rusty old lock, when suddenly, the closet door burst open. Inside, looking out at us was a gruesome phantom. It seemed to float in the air with an eerie luminescence. It had a hideous face that looked like a shriveled corpse, partially decayed flesh covering only parts of its skull. Its mouth was formed into an evil smile. It had dark eye sockets containing radiating glowing eyes that seemed to burn right through us. Its mouth opened wide and it began to shriek, as it slowly moved towards us. I grabbed an old wooden chair and yelled to Tim to stand back, as I plunged it through the window. Tim dove out onto the roof and rolled. I grabbed the window sill and was pulling myself out, when I felt something latch onto my ankles. I pulled with all my force, but couldn’t break free. Tim ran back and grabbed me by the arms and pulled. I turned to shine my flashlight in the face of the phantom and when I did, I felt it let go. Tim pulled me the rest of the way through the window onto the roof, as we ran to the end and jumped into a tree, climbing down to the ground. We ran clumsily through the woods as fast as we could go. I turned my head over my shoulder to see if the thing was coming, but all I saw was a dull glow emanating from the broken window. We ran into the house and locked the door behind us. We both went into the kitchen where my Mom was doing the dishes. She looked over at us as we sat at the table huffing and puffing. “What have you guys been up to tonight?” Neither one of us could talk yet; we were still out of breath from the run home. She asked us if we heard the news about the old hotel. I looked over to her and asked “What news?” She said “Well, on the evening news there was a story about the murders that took place at the old hotel 40 years ago. Mr. Wilson was supposedly the only witness.”
“Murders?” Tim replied. “What murders?” We both looked at each other with puzzlement and horror on our faces. Suddenly, things began to make sense. I got up from the table and went over to the window and looked out into the night. I could still see the dull glow of light coming from the old hotel.