Status: Mission Completed!
The Haunted Hotel
Chapter One
In the Autumn of 1960, the weather was awkwardly hot, and something was different about the air. Anyways, we decided to leave town and go traveling.
Simon, Tom and Wendy, and I all wanted to go abroad. After a lot of searching, we found a hotel on the tourist's website. The ad described the hotel and the grounds as a “Traveler's Paradise.”
We packed up the car and set off. It was really dark by time we had gotten to the hotel, so we went straight to our rooms to sleep the night away and to be ready for adventures tomorrow.
It was about 2:30 A.M. when I was woken by a tapping sound. I slowly and nervously got out of bed and felt along the wall to find the light switch. The tapping was coming from upstairs. Wendy and Tom were out of their room when I opened my door. They were staring at the ceiling and either didn't see me or just could not speak, as they just stood there. “Where is Simon?” I asked them, waiting for an answer. “Where is he?”
“Upstairs,” they said in unison.
Being brave, I decided to explore and follow the tapping sound. There were four stairs up to the next landing, and as I got to the room were the tapping was coming from, I found that there was no rooms there. The room numbers were there, but no doors to open.
“Simon?” I whispered timidly to the air around me. “Simon, are you here?”
“Help me...Help me, please,” Was all I heard. It sounded like Simon, only muffled and from above.
When I looked up for any signs of him, Simon's face looked carved into the ceiling. He gazed at me with pity. I screamed of sheer shock; I could hear the patter of Wendy and Tom's feet as they came running.
“What's the matter!?” Wendy exclaimed. “Simon's face,” I said, wide-eyed. “On the ceiling,” They looked up, and I was reluctant to. But when they looked up, there was nothing there.
The tapping started again, so we all decided to find the source together. We could all hear it. It was all around us, but we could not find a door that would lead us closer to the mysterious sound. We scoured the whole hotel, and found no hidden staircases or any other way to get upstairs. We didn't find Simon either.
Tom suggested we stay in one room together and wait until morning to search for Simon again. Wendy clutched his arm and I followed quickly behind them to their room.
* * * *
The following morning, we went downstairs and outside. To our amazement, horror, and surprise, there was blood spattered everywhere on the path to the entrance, so we followed it in hopes of finding Simon.
The blood trail went all the way around to the back of the hotel then up the wall to the attic. We walked back into the hotel, very carefully to not disturb other guests.
But it didn't seem like there would be other guests. As we gazed around the lobby, everything was burnt and charred as if a forest fire had swept through while we stepped out.
The hotel was derelict and hadn't rented out for years. We all looked at each other and could not understand what was going on until Wendy found an article in an old newspaper from 1915 about the hotel fire and about a lad called Simon who was in the attic playing when he was killed in the hotel fire.
“March 24th, 1915
Volume 3
Issue 9
Hotel Manifest, known for its Victorian beauty, has finally burned to the ground in a kitchen fire around 5:30 P.M. last evening. Officials are going to investigate what caused the fire, as the cooks say they were doing what always has been done. So far, there has been only one confirmed death. Simon Desjury, 27.”
“...So in revenge, his ghost goes and gets travelers – that would be our Simon, he suggested here – to visit the hotel so that his memory is never forgotten and anyone who comes to the hotel goes away talking about the missing traveler called Simon,” Tom concluded.
Simon, Tom and Wendy, and I all wanted to go abroad. After a lot of searching, we found a hotel on the tourist's website. The ad described the hotel and the grounds as a “Traveler's Paradise.”
We packed up the car and set off. It was really dark by time we had gotten to the hotel, so we went straight to our rooms to sleep the night away and to be ready for adventures tomorrow.
It was about 2:30 A.M. when I was woken by a tapping sound. I slowly and nervously got out of bed and felt along the wall to find the light switch. The tapping was coming from upstairs. Wendy and Tom were out of their room when I opened my door. They were staring at the ceiling and either didn't see me or just could not speak, as they just stood there. “Where is Simon?” I asked them, waiting for an answer. “Where is he?”
“Upstairs,” they said in unison.
Being brave, I decided to explore and follow the tapping sound. There were four stairs up to the next landing, and as I got to the room were the tapping was coming from, I found that there was no rooms there. The room numbers were there, but no doors to open.
“Simon?” I whispered timidly to the air around me. “Simon, are you here?”
“Help me...Help me, please,” Was all I heard. It sounded like Simon, only muffled and from above.
When I looked up for any signs of him, Simon's face looked carved into the ceiling. He gazed at me with pity. I screamed of sheer shock; I could hear the patter of Wendy and Tom's feet as they came running.
“What's the matter!?” Wendy exclaimed. “Simon's face,” I said, wide-eyed. “On the ceiling,” They looked up, and I was reluctant to. But when they looked up, there was nothing there.
The tapping started again, so we all decided to find the source together. We could all hear it. It was all around us, but we could not find a door that would lead us closer to the mysterious sound. We scoured the whole hotel, and found no hidden staircases or any other way to get upstairs. We didn't find Simon either.
Tom suggested we stay in one room together and wait until morning to search for Simon again. Wendy clutched his arm and I followed quickly behind them to their room.
* * * *
The following morning, we went downstairs and outside. To our amazement, horror, and surprise, there was blood spattered everywhere on the path to the entrance, so we followed it in hopes of finding Simon.
The blood trail went all the way around to the back of the hotel then up the wall to the attic. We walked back into the hotel, very carefully to not disturb other guests.
But it didn't seem like there would be other guests. As we gazed around the lobby, everything was burnt and charred as if a forest fire had swept through while we stepped out.
The hotel was derelict and hadn't rented out for years. We all looked at each other and could not understand what was going on until Wendy found an article in an old newspaper from 1915 about the hotel fire and about a lad called Simon who was in the attic playing when he was killed in the hotel fire.
“March 24th, 1915
Volume 3
Issue 9
Hotel Manifest, known for its Victorian beauty, has finally burned to the ground in a kitchen fire around 5:30 P.M. last evening. Officials are going to investigate what caused the fire, as the cooks say they were doing what always has been done. So far, there has been only one confirmed death. Simon Desjury, 27.”
“...So in revenge, his ghost goes and gets travelers – that would be our Simon, he suggested here – to visit the hotel so that his memory is never forgotten and anyone who comes to the hotel goes away talking about the missing traveler called Simon,” Tom concluded.
♠ ♠ ♠
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