Edmund and Greg were getting ready for a day in the village. They were going to meet Trent who Edmund had met a while before. Edmund had another bad dream but there had been no blood anywhere, so he took it as a good sign. The image of the remains to the child in the cellar haunted his mind. Every time he thought about the child, his stomach twisted and turned. It felt like he was about to vomit. He tried to think happy thoughts and he tried to think about playing his guitar with his mates in front of a big crowd. He tried to think about Lucinda and what he would say to her when they met after the holiday was over. No matter what he tried to think of, his mind kept wandering back to the child and then to Dorian Black. Who was he? Was he a murderer? Edmund told himself that it was all in his mind and that there was no point in digging into the past.
The two of them ate breakfast as fast as they could. There was not much talk other than Ben and Barry whispering jokes to each other. Mary stormed off as usual. Edmund wondered what she was doing all day. Maybe she was reading. That would certainly pass the time since she didn’t have anyone to hang out with in the hotel.
Edmund ate more bacon than anything else, it was warm, crispy and salty. It made his mouth water and focused his mind on bacon and bacon only. The eggs were sunny side up which didn’t appeal to him, he preferred them over easy, and nothing but over easy. He wondered if he was going to say what kind of eggs, he preferred but refrained from it. Bella looked both tired and upset. It did not look like she was in the mood of being told that something was wrong about the food she had made.
“Doctor, me and Greg are going down to the village,” said Edmund.
“These villagers are not right in the head, I don’t like you talking with them…then again the thought of having you out of the hotel is pleasing. If only you two could take the rest of the vermin with you,” said Doctor Wrath with a grave tone.
“MY CHILDREN ARE NOT VERMIN, DOCTOR WRATH!” screamed Bella as she slammed her fist in the table. It was just as Edmund thought, she was not in the mood to be bothered.
Greg and Edmund looked at each other, they both knew it was time to leave before things got more heated. Greg said that he had forgotten to get money so had to run up and get it. Edmund waited for some time before Greg came running back down the stairs and said that he had made a wrong turn, which was not hard to believe. The hotel was a maze, it did not seem like it wanted visitors to leave.
They were heading for the door when Greg said that he had to get Brutus so that he could smell some new smells and get some exercises. Edmund waited ten more minutes, he felt like he was being watched but there was no one around to watch him. There were no moving shadows on the walls and the paintings were lifeless.
Brutus and Greg came walking leisurely as if they didn’t have a care in the world.
The three of them began walking down the mountain. The sun was concealed by all the omniums clouds roaming the sky. The air smelled fresh like it was going to be a great day but Edmund’s gut told him that it would rain any moment. Edmund thought that maybe it would be a good thing to feel the rain on his skin; the rain would be light compared to the heavy air inside the hotel.
The ground felt hard under their feet but still softer than the hard stone and wood floor inside the hotel; the hotel’s floor was stone hard even when there was a rug or carpet covering it.
Edmund could hear both Greg and Brutus breathing heavily as if they had just run a marathon.
“THERE!” Greg shouted as he pointed towards a tree. Edmund looked at what was so interesting about that tree. There were plenty of trees around, it seemed to be a bit taller, maybe, but it wasn’t very fancy. “What am I looking for?” Edmund asked.
“The girl, she was right there,” said Greg excited.
“Are you mental? There is no girl. You sound like a nutter,” said Edmund fed up.
“There was a girl and soon I will prove it,” said Greg annoyed.
They came to the ladder, Brutus and Greg were the first to climb over it and then Edmund. As he crossed the fence the air became warmer like it was a normal summer. A summer where there was no chance of snow covering the ground.
“Where do you think that guy is?” asked Greg.
“Let’s just walked around, Trent will probably pop up.”
“So you didn’t tell him we were coming.”
“How would I do that? Send a messenger pigeon? The hotel is cut off from the world you can’t just text someone.”
They walked around the town only stopping when Brutus either needed to smell something or do his business. The locals gave all three of them stern looks. When the locals walked past them, they spat on the ground as if they were warding off evil. Greg tried to ask an old man if he had seen a boy their age somewhere around, the man looked angry, spat on the ground and said, “I will not help you devil worshipers. I know where you live and who you live with. Are you searching for your first victim? If so, it’s going to be one of you I will make sure of it.”
The man’s words made chills go down Edmund’s back and made his heart skip a beat. The man seemed so certain that there were going to be a victim. He said he knew who they lived with. What did the man know? Or what did the man think he knew?
“Edmund, now you have to admit that something strange is going on in the hotel,” said Greg.
“Here we go again…look nothing strange is going on, it’s only an old dark hotel and nothing else.” Edmund did not fully believe what he had said but he said to himself that he had to believe it.
Edmund spotted Trent leaning against a car holding a rock in his hand. “There he is,” said Edmund and Brutus started walking faster, he seemed to have caught the scent of something interesting. Brutus moved towards Trent and Trent kicked after him to keep him at bay.
Greg gave Trent a stern look, but Trent laughed and said, “What a stupid mutt. Is this your stupid mutt?” Trent said and looked at Greg who did not seem very pleased. “It looks like something’s wrong with it. Want me to put it down?” Trent said and laughed.
Greg started moving towards Trent with clenched fists. Edmund held him back and said, “Relax, he’s only joking.”
It did not look like Greg’s temper eased but he did not attack Trent which Edmund thought was a good sign. He didn’t like Trent’s joke much but it was only a joke, it was nothing to be upset over.
Edmund suggested that they head to the shop, Trent and Greg both seemed to think it was a good idea and it eased the tension.
They walked into the small shop; the shopkeeper gave them a stern ‘I am watching’ kind of look. Edmund looked around, he did not know what he was going to buy and the glare of the shopkeeper made it hard to think. He wanted to just grab something, pay and get out of there. Edmund went to the fridge and grabbed a soft drink with an orange flavour. He thought that the taste of bobbles would be nice, he had gone days without them. Greg plucked a cola from the shelf and then they went to pay for it. Trent walked out; he had not bought a single thing that Edmund had not expected.
Greg and Edmund walked out and followed Trent to a couple of cars. Trent had a grin on his face and pulled out chocolate from his pocket and said, “Look what I nicked.” He sounded proud like had gotten the first place in a race.
“You have to give that back,” said Greg firmly while he was stroking Brutus’s head. Edmund thought stealing was wrong and he had never stolen anything, at least, not from a shop, but he thought that Greg was acting uncool.
“Are you going to call the police?” said Trent in a mocking voice.
“Maybe, I will,” said Greg. “And when the police come, they will find your head cracked open on the pavement.”
Greg looked at Edmund for support but Edmund just stood there, he did not even meet Greg’s eyes. Edmund did not want to get involved. On one hand, he had to live with Greg but, on the other hand, Trent was his key to the world outside the hotel. Greg would get over it, he was a nice guy but Edmund thought Greg seemed spineless. There was no chance that he would fight Trent, Greg was a peacemaker and not a back-alley brawler.
“That man,” said Greg and pointed at the shop, “he is working hard to earn a living. When you steal from him, you basically kick him in the balls.” Trent rushed up to Greg, kneed him in the groin, pushed him to the ground and started kicking him in the back.
Brutus started growling and barking at Trent. “SHUT UP!” shouted Trent and kicked Brutus hard on his nose. Brutus started whimpering as he backed down and tried to comfort Greg by laying a paw on his back and pushing his head to Greg’s head.
Greg was laying on the ground, groaning in pain, he held both his hands on his groin and was curled up like a ball.
Trent picked up Greg’s soft drink and said to Edmund, “Let’s get out of here.”
Edmund was torn between leaving and staying. On one hand, Greg was nice and he needed a friend. Also, Greg and Brutus were in pain. However, Trent was someone from the outside, someone who seemed cool – cooler than Greg could ever be. Trent was a brut there was no arguing that, but he did it with style; he was a guy who did what he wanted when he wanted it, and no one could tell him what to do.
He had to make a decision, Trent was cool, he could get up to anything and it was not like him and Greg could become best friends. It was just a coincidence that they met and shared a room, they were acquaintances that was all, right?
“NOW!” shouted Trent. Edmund looked down on Greg who was curled up like a ball and Brutus who was whimpering, he sighed then followed Trent.
Edmund felt a lump forming in his stomach, had he made the wrong choice? Greg would forgive him. Greg would have done the same thing if he was laying there holding on to his nuts. Why did he care if Greg would forgive him? Greg was mental, he claimed he saw girls where there were no girls. It was not even a onetime occurrence; Greg had lost his marbles way before they met at the hotel; he was not right in the head at all.
Trent was not like Greg at all, Trent may be a brute but, at least, he was not insane. He may throw a punch at you but, at least, he would not mistake you for the loch ness monster and shoot you with a rifle. There was no doubt he had made the right decision, but if he had why had the lump in his stomach not gone away. It felt like he had eaten rocks or had something crawling inside him like a bunch of heavy spiders or an alien eating him from the inside out.
He had made the right choice, he was certain of it; Trent was rough around the edges but normal. Now he had to stop thinking about it, the more he thought about it the worse the lump got.
They walked past old stones houses, some of them looked like they were about to crumble under their own weight. They walked past unkept gardens and old cars that looked like they were from the fifties.
Edmund thought that the village was cold and unwelcoming, it was almost as bad as the hotel but, at least, it was not pitch black. They walked past people who spat on the ground as they saw them, or as they saw Edmund. “It’s a small town, lots of whispers about what is going on up there,” said Trent.
“Up where?”
“The hotel you idiot…my grandma says someone will die soon. Stupid old crow.” He laughed.
“You know, I always wondered what it is like up there. I heard rumours of shadows running in the hallways, of restless dead cooking soup of trespassers.”
“There are no shadows running about, no zombies either. It’s just black, pitch black, you can’t see a thing without a flashlight.”
“I would like to see it,” said Trent.
“Just come up one day, but there is not much to see other than old paintings of Dorian Black, mirrors and antique furniture.”
Trent laughed and said, “You know what they say about Dorian Black?” Edmund shook his head so Trent continued, “They say he was a madman who killed a whole bunch of people, like guests, in the hotel. Women, children, ugly old crows – everyone became his victim sooner or later. My gran says the hotel just appeared one day, said there were no workers. Stupid old hag.”
Edmund started thinking about the picture of Dorian Black and the remains of the young boy. He did not want to know more but, at the same time, he needed to know more. The woman’s warning, the boy’s shadow, the horrible nightmares that gave him wounds. He wanted to run and get away from it all but something told him that he needed to find out more and he had the whole summer to do so. Maybe, the doctor would know something but what would be the odds that the doctor would give up that information. He did not like to let his son know much about his work but maybe this time would be different. It was worth a try even if he got ridiculed by his own father, it would not be the first time and far from the last.
They walked to an old house with garden gnomes that had been smashed to a thousand pieces.
“Wait here, let me get something,” said Trent and walked towards the door kicking a gnome that was almost intact. Edmund guessed that this was his grandma’s house, he also guessed that it had been Trent who had broken the garden gnomes.
The house had a broken window and someone had spray-painted a skull on the wall. He guessed that this was also the work of Trent. Edmund started looking at the clues, the lump in his stomach was more painful than ever and he realised that he had made the wrong choice. Sure, he could try and convince himself that Greg was crazy but maybe the girl was just like the shadow and voice. Trent was maybe not crazy, but he seemed to be a monster, at least, part monster. Trent had stolen, attacked Greg and worse attacked Brutus, and he had even vandalised his own grandmother’s home. The boy had no respect for anything and he himself had been a complete fool for thinking Trent was cool.
Trent came out the old wooden door, he was carrying something in his hands. He stomped on a piece of gnome on his way. Trent was carrying two egg cartons, he gave one to Edmund and said, “Be a good boy and help me paint my grans home.” Then he started throwing eggs at the door, windows, roof and walls.
“Why are you doing this?” Edmund asked him.
“Why? WHY? I tell you why because the stupid old crow is too cheap to buy a telly. She does not even have WIFI. SHE LIVES IN THE STONEAGE! We have to teach her a lesson, NOW THROW THE EGGS BEFORE I BREAK YOUR ARM!”
Trent threw three more eggs and one of them broke shards of glass of the broken window. He threw another egg and that one went into the house through the broken window.
Edmund dropped the egg carton and said, “I am leaving.” Trent seemed to take it badly; he bent down, picked up a brick and smashed it against Edmund’s eye. Edmund fell to the ground and heard Trent laugh. “Not so pretty now, are you?” Trent started throwing eggs at Edmund while he was laughing.
Blood was running down Edmund’s face, it was coming from right above his eyebrow. Edmund was groaning and tears were running down his face which stung. Trent started stomping at Edmund’s stomach and groin.
Edmund grabbed Trent’s foot and tried to throw him off balance, but ended up getting knocked by the brick again making another cut, this time on his forehead.
Trent kicked him hard in his groin. Edmund screamed in agony and threw up the bacon he had eaten all over his face. The puke felt warm, the taste and smelled were so bad and intense that it caused Edmund to puke again. He could hear Trent laugh, then he felt another egg hit him in the side.
Trent left Edmund laying on the pavement with his head in a pool of blood, vomit and a cracked egg.
He was laying on the cold hard pavement; he was trying to get up but failed several times. His head was throbbing, and he could barely see out of his battered eye. He rolled over to his stomach and tried to push himself up, he had almost made it when he tumbled to the ground. Edmund rested for a while and tried to muster up the strength. It worked, he managed to stand up and he even managed to start walking.
He met no one on his way towards the mountain. He stopped at the ladder; he felt too weak to climb over, but he had to try. Edmund held on with his hands as he started to walk up the steps and when it was time to swing his leg over to the other side, he tumbled down. Luckily, he landed on the right side.
Edmund felt the cold creep up on him; it hurt his fingers and the dead grass was pricking his bare skin, it felt like the grass was cutting him up more. He started crawling and then he got back on his feet.
He moved up the mountain slowly, one step at the time, taking deep breaths and trying not to vomit more. It took him much longer than usual to walk up to the hotel. His fingers were starting to feel numb, which made opening the large heavy door difficult and painful.
Edmund took up his flashlight and put the light on. He did not wish to see anyone now, he wanted to sneak into his room and wash his face.
The musty cold air made him cough and the dust got into his eyes. He started sneaking towards the stairs, stopping every time he thought he heard a noise. He did not want anyone seeing him like this – bruised, battered and humiliated. He felt shame; he should have helped Greg, and he should have knocked Trent out while he had the chance. He had the chance to be a hero and he blew it, instead, he became a weak powerless villain.
He could hear Mary humming loudly in her room, he walked very carefully so he would not disturb her. She would probably not open the door, but he could not be too careful.
Edmund walked into his room, Greg was not there, in fact, none of Greg’s belonging was there either. His suitcase was gone, the pillow and duvet had vanished. He did not give it much thought, he walked straight into the bathroom and turned on the faucet. The water was icy and it made his hand sore. He threw water on his face which stung his cuts. He caressed his bruised eye with a cloth. He tried to get the blood away so that he could see the damage Trent had caused.
He looked in the dirty mirror trying to make out his reflection. He took off his shirt and put the cloth under the icy water. He started cleaning his chest and shoulder, washing off the blood, vomit and egg.
He felt like someone was watching him with piercing eyes, he tried to shake the feeling off and continued washing himself. He turned off the faucet, walked out of the bathroom and changed his clothes. He avoided putting on a T-shirt and instead he just put on a jacket to keep himself warm.
He sat down on his bed and took a few deep breathes before he began searching for Greg. He had to apologise that he had been an utter fool and that he knew it. He searched room after room hoping to find him. Edmund thought that Greg most likely was down in the game room, but he hoped not; he did not wish to meet everyone’s judging eyes.
He heard whimpering coming from a room, it was Brutus, Edmund knew it. He opened the door and saw Greg sitting on a bed stroking Brutus’s head. Edmund knocked; “Mind if I come in?”
Greg flashed his flashlight in Edmund’s face and said, “What on earth happened to you?” He did not sound very interested, he sounded like he was just being polite.
“Karma happened to me…” Greg grunted an uninterested grunt but did not say anything.
“Look Greg…if I could go back in time, I would have knocked Trent to the ground before he touched you and Brutus.” Sighed Edmund.
“Violence is never the answer, I would not want you to break his teeth I wanted you to have my back. I wanted us to be friends, but you are too stoic…or stubborn to agree with me that something strange is going on. I know you believe it. I can see it on you, I just want to hear you say it.”
“Greg there is nothing strange going on, it’s just an old house,” said Edmund. He was starting to get angry. Why did Greg need him to say that something strange was going on, it was the stupidest request he had ever heard.
“Greg! Just come back to our room. Tomorrow we can do what you want to do, anything you want…just don’t say chasing a ghost or mysterious girls,” said Edmund fed up.
“You should get Bella to check out your wound before you go to bed. When you are ready to tell the truth to me and yourself…,well you know where to find me. Goodnight,” said Greg and laid down on the bed waiting for Edmund to leave.
Edmund left but did not bother to close the door. His head and eye were hurting, his blood was boiling in his veins, his fingers and toes were freezing, and he felt like breaking something expensive. He swallowed his pride and walked down and into the game room hoping to meet Bella so she could tell him that his wounds were nothing to worry about.
Bella was in the game room; she was talking to Logan and Doctor Wrath. Bella looked up at Edmund and shouted, “WHO DID THAT TO YOU?”
“It was an accident,” said Edmund and shrugged.
“Son, I told you not to fraternise locals. They are nothing but hillbilly brutes, the whole bunch of them,” said his father as he shook his head in disappointment.
“I think you should get to a doctor mate; you don’t look quite right. In the head you know…” said Logan with a smile on his face trying to ease the tension in the room.
“Nonsense, it’s nothing but a scratch. Besides, I am not driving the whole night to get to a hospital only to drive back two minutes later,” said the doctor.
Bella got up and said she was getting the first aid kit.
Edmund saw his opportunity. “Doctor, what do you know about Dorian Black and the history of the hotel?”
“You don’t need to bother your brain with such things, my dear boy,” said the doctor.
“The boy is interested, tell him what you know. He has the right to know what has happened here,” said Logan.
“Not what has happened here. It is what has allegedly happened here.” He sighed. “Very well…not much is known about Dorian Black. Somehow, he got a lot of money, an inheritance I believe…anyway rumours started occurring. People disappeared. Mr Black got accused of murdering people, and he vanished before the investigation. He built the hotel, must have cost a fortune to have it built so fast…anyway, people started going missing in the hotel and one day Dorian Black vanished and so did everybody else in the hotel. Some say that the hotel is haunted; hogwash, if you ask me.”
Logan smiled and said, “The story does not end there. His brother took control of the hotel, and then he died. Years passed then during World War Two, the hotel was used to keep the youth safe. Well, they thought it was safe but almost immediately some of the youth went missing and never seen again.”
Bella came into the room, pushed Edmund down in a hard leather chair and began cleaning his wounds with something that stung. Edmund jerked his head back, but Bella grabbed a hold of him and held his head as still as she could even though he tried to jerk it away.
Edmund went to bed; he locked the door to make sure no one got in. He got into his bed and turned off his flashlight. He felt a gust of wind blow through his hair, was a window open? He turned the light back and saw that everything was safe and now the window was open. The moon gave a little light, it was enough to see both the doors.
Someone started knocking on the door; he turned his light back on. The knocking turned into a hammering. Edmund’s heartbeat went up; he wanted to ask who was there, but he was frozen in his bed. The door was locked so no one could get in. The doorknob started twisting and turning vigorously. Edmund kept telling himself that the door was locked and that nothing could come in. He heard the door unlock then the door flew open slamming into the wall and then slamming shut and locking itself.
There was no sound in the room, and there was no knocking on the door – it was all in his head. He was just scared being alone. For all he knew, he was already asleep and having a nightmare.
Edmund rested his head on his pillow and said that there was nothing in the room with him, it was only him. It took some time, but he calmed himself down and closed his eyes.
He opened his eyes; the room was again blurry and it felt like he was floating and that he did not weigh anything at all. Edmund looked around; a large man was laying in Greg’s old bed. He was dreaming and, in his dream, he could be a hero and he could be brave.
The man was wearing a suit and had a bowler on his head. “Excuse me, sir. Who are you?” asked Edmund. The man got up and turned around to face Edmund. When he saw the man’s stomach, he wanted to puke. The man’s intestine was hanging out like someone had ripped his stomach open for the world to see.
Edmund hurried to the door and tried to open it; it was locked. The man started walking towards Edmund with an angry expression. Edmund got out of his room and began running. He ran past people, someone tried to grab him, but he dodged their hands. Other people looked scared, some were young much younger than Edmund and some were much older than him.
A door burst open and a hand grabbed Edmund and pulled him into the room. It was a woman with her throat slit and one of her eyes was gouged out. It looked like veins and flesh was hanging out her empty eye.
Edmund tried to release himself. “Relax, we don’t have much time. Heed my warning. He is always watching; he is like a general with an army. YOU NEED TO GET OUT!” The woman punched Edmund in the throat and slammed his head in the doorframe.
Edmund coughed loudly; he could not breathe. He grabbed his throat in the hope that air would swoop in, which it did. He filled his lungs with the musty air and then coughed and coughed. His head was pounding, he felt more battered and bruised than ever. Why were the dreams here so real, what did it mean?
As he was coughing, he realised that the door was open. He fell out of bed, got to his feet and closed the door. He did not think there was any point in locking it but did it anyways.
Was Dorian Black a murderer, was the dead roaming the hotel? There was no way that could be true. Any person with half a brain would say that he was going insane. There was more to the hotel, it held many secrets but who in their right mind would search for them, thought Edmund. He had to search for answers, he was truly that mad. He was craving to know more but he would not succumb to Greg’s foolish ideas of ghosts.