Greg opened his eyes and the first thing he felt was the blinding sun and his pounding head. He squinted and tried to see around, he was in Edmund’s room and he could see Edmund lying curled up in a ball. What was he doing there? What happened last night? he wondered.
He could remember drinking wine, he could remember being locked in the wine cellar, and the ghost who had locked them inside. He could remember getting caught by his father and showing his dad and the doctor where they got the wine from. That was the last thing he remembered. Did he fall asleep in the kitchens by the wine cellar? Did his father carry him up to Edmund’s bedroom?
He wasn’t upset, in fact, he thought it was rather fun; he had never been drunk before nor he had a hangover. How exciting, he thought. He couldn’t wait to tell his classmates about it.
He remembered something about last night, Edmund sprayed blood on him. No, that could not be true, could it? Greg thought long and hard about it. Why would anyone bottle blood and put it in the wine cellar? Was it some kind of sick joke? A prank only an insane person would come up with? Did Ben and Barry know about it? It was they who picked it out, wasn’t it? It seemed like something they could have done but then again, how would they know that the bottle had blood in it?
Greg slowly slid out of his bed, he took the sheets off and saw that he was shirtless. He got on his feet and immediately regretted it. Spit filled in his mouth and he felt stomach acid in his chest and throat. Greg rushed to the bathroom which made his throbbing head fill up with more pain.
He knelt down by the toilet and held his head over it waiting for whatever came next. Greg started to feel better, he sat down next to the toilet. The dark soothed both his eyes and head.
The faucet turned on, and the sound of water pouring out filled the bathroom. Greg closed his eyes; he was not alone, was someone there with him? “It’s rude to watch people in the bathroom,” said Greg to try and break the ice in case he was not alone. The faucet turned itself off but then the faucet in the bathtub started pouring out water. Greg could not see anything in the dark, but he crawled towards where the sound came from. “I mean you no harm but I would appreciate it if I could have a couple of minutes alone,” he said and turned off the faucet.
Greg heard a weird sound, it sounded like a door opening and closing but there was only one door in the bathroom, and it was closed. The bathroom became much colder, it was like being outside during a cold winter without any clothes for warmth.
The faucet turned itself back on. Greg slid his hand across the bathtub; the bottom was filling with icy water as something was clogging the drain.
Greg leaned over the bathtub and guided his hand around it to find the stopper. The icy water stung his hand and made his fingers feel numb. He felt something push him under. His head got plunged into the water. Greg tried to fight it but the thing holding him down was too strong. His head got pulled out of the water, he could hear two people whispering. Greg tried to catch his breath but before he knew it, he was back under the water.
Greg’s nose was pressed against the bottom of the bathtub; his hands were waving franticly and he tried to kick with his feet to fend of his attackers.
Something pulled his head out of the water and he gasped for the musty air inside the hotel while wishing he was outside in a field breathing the warm fresh summer air. The musty dust-filled air made him cough loudly. He heard a door open and he saw a flash of light, then whatever that was holding let go.
“What on earth are you doing?” said a friendly voice; it was Edmund’s voice. Greg got up, the cold water dripped down on his bare skin and made him shiver.
Greg smiled and said, “You would not believe.”
“I don’t want you to try and make me believe either,” growled Edmund.
Why did Edmund have to be so stubborn, he obviously knew that this place was haunted. He had witnessed strange things. So why could he not just admit it? Why was it so hard for him to say: Hey Greg, you know what you are right, ghosts do exist.
Greg looked down on the water he had almost been drowned in, but he wasn’t worried. He told himself that ghosts cannot kill the living, they can try but will never succeed unless they manage to scare a person to death which would never happen to him.
Greg went wet and shirtless to his own room so that he could get dressed. Edmund looked at him with eyes that said both ‘I am sorry’ and ‘I will never bend’.
As he got dressed, he said to himself that he was going to try and find the chef because he needed to find the necklace. This time he was not going to let himself be locked inside a storage room.
Greg started to walk down to the dining room, he met Edmund on the way who greeted him with a friendly hello but nothing more. It seemed like they gave each other the cold shoulder every other time. The last day he had given Edmund the cold shoulder and now Edmund gave him the cold shoulder. Greg wondered why they could not just makeup, all Edmund had to do was say that this hotel was haunted – it could not be that difficult.
Edmund had a worried look as they came to the staircase, Greg wondered if he had seen something peculiar – something a normal person would call paranormal.
The two of them went into the dining room where everyone was there except for Mary and Brutus. Greg went up to his father and said, “Dad, have you seen Brutus?”
“Not since last night, but I haven’t exactly been looking for either. You know with all the wine disappearing for the wine cellar and reappearing in your mouths.” Laughed Logan. Then, he continued by filling Greg and Edmund’s plates with eggs and bacon and said, “Best hangover cure – that and orange juice.”
The look of the eggs and bacon made Greg gag for a while but that went over and he forced some down. It looked like Edmund had the same method.
When they were almost done eating, Edmund whispered into Greg’s ear, “I need to speak with you afterwards.” Edmund’s words made Greg smile; was the time of cold shoulders over? Was Edmund going to admit that the hotel was full of dead guests?
Bella got everyone’s attention. “As you all know, Mary has not been seen for a while. So, I ask all of you to keep an eye and an ear out for her.” Bella sounded sombre and worried which Greg thought was understandable.
The twins were sniggering and after every other minute, they looked at both Edmund and Greg while whispering into each other’s ears. Greg wondered what they were talking about, he guessed they were talking about what had happened last night. Greg did not really care if they made fun of him for falling asleep or getting sprayed with blood. Today was going to be a good day, he told himself. Sure, it got off to a rocky start, even a dangerous start, he told himself. All amazing days have obstacles you have to get pass them because what makes the day amazing is the fact that you overcome those obstacles with ease, he thought.
Edmund gave Greg a nudge in his arm to indicate that the time was right for them to talk. They walked into the hallway and turned their flashlights on before they walked into the entrance hall.
“Greg, look…I won’t admit that this place is supernatural but what I will admit is that I have had some weird dreams that freak me out and I don’t want to be alone at night anymore,” said Edmund while he was fiddling with his hands.
This was not good enough. This was just half-hearted excuse, Edmund needed to do better. “Tell me about these so-called weird dreams,” said Greg trying to act as confident as he could.
“Well, take last night for example…I…” Edmund stopped, it seemed like he struggled to say what he wanted to say but Greg would not back down he needed to know.
“Go on,” said Greg firmly.
“I dreamt that I was being chased by darkness, I dreamt I saw a headless man talking to an elderly couple about playing the piano with me. I dreamt that I and a fat man were in the attic and he told me to find this old cottage on the mountain. He said there was someone there who I needed to speak with.”
The moment Edmund mentioned the cottage, Greg knew he was telling the truth. It had to be the old cottage he had seen when he talked to the beautiful ghost, Karen.
“So, will you come back to our room?” Edmund asked. Greg took his time thinking it over, it was not what he had hoped for, but it would have to do.
“Yeah, we can get my stuff back into our room. Oh, by the way, I have seen the cottage; it’s not too hard to find.”
Both Edmund and Greg gave each other a half-hearted smile and walked upstairs to get Greg’s stuff back into Edmund’s room.
It did not take too long and, on the way, they met Ben and Barry. Greg felt the need to ask, “Are you guys feeling even remotely bad?”
Ben shook his head and Barry said, “Practices make perfect, my friend.”
Ben sniggered and said, “So, Eddie, have you sprayed anyone else with blood or that honour is reserved for your bunkmate?” Then the two twins walked off before Edmund could reply. Greg could hear them laughing loudly as they vanished into the dark.
When they were done, Greg said farewell to Edmund because he had to find out where the chef and the necklace were.
He walked past the large paintings and large mirrors. He kept feeling that someone was watching him so he kept looking at the eyes on the paintings in case they started to move. Then he thought ghosts could probably turn invisible, he could be walking right through someone without even knowing it. The thought both freaked and excited him. What if he walked through the killer? What could the killer do if he did? The killer could probably try and scare him, but he already knew the place was haunted and no ghost had scared him to death so far.
Greg started thinking, he did not know much about the history of the hotel. He had gotten warnings for Karen who told him always to stay in the light, whether she meant light of Christ or just plain light, he did not know. He wasn’t really that religious, he did not go to church that often. Would any God come down and save him? He hadn’t exactly prayed to either Ganesh or Odin the last century.
Greg walked into the dining room, it was empty and dark. Greg shone his lights on a large mirror. Why all the mirrors? he thought. He supposed that the people who enjoyed staying at the hotel also enjoy looking at themselves. Either that or Dorian Black was a really big narcissist.
He started walking down the narrow stairs. The hair on his back stood up; every time he had gone down there, something had gone wrong. Not this time though, everything was going to go after the plan.
He took a couple of deep breaths and told himself out loud, “Today is my day.” Then he began walking down the narrow stairs while keeping his back hunched over so that his head would not crash in the ceiling. He kept one hand on the wall for support because he still felt dizzy; the horrid feeling had started to ease up on him, but the headache, nausea and dizziness were still lurking in the back of his head.
Greg started walking through the narrow hallway, he was trying to think of how to find the chef. He did not think of a better way than asking for him so that was what he started doing.
“Chef, oi Chef, are you there?” He wondered whether there were other ghosts watching him and making fun of him. Maybe, they would feel sorry for him after a while and help him. He hoped they would. He thought that it would be fun to meet and talk to other ghosts, they probably had very interesting stories.
“Chef, I really need to talk to you,” Greg continued. He asked for the chef over and over again without succeeding. Maybe, the chef didn’t like the light; maybe, some ghosts preferred the dark. Karen told him to stay in the light. Maybe she meant that most ghosts don’t like the light and since some ghosts are evil, they cannot try and scare you in the light. Obviously, that was what she meant, and he had been in the dark a bunch of times in the hotel and nothing bad had happened. Well except when they tried to drown him earlier but that was just for show, ghosts cannot kill the living – everyone knew that.
Greg walked back and forth asking for the chef, he knew he needed to take off the light but that would leave him so exposed. His heart started pounding heavily in his chest, the thought of standing in the dark made him have trouble breathing. It felt like he had a bunch of stones on his chest. He tried to tell himself that it was okay, he needed to find the necklace, but it did not seem to calm him down at all.
He put his thumb on the off and on button on the flashlight. He tried to push it down, but his thumb would not allow him to push the button down. Greg put both his thumbs on the button and tried to push down, it felt like the button had a force field around it making it impossible to push down.
Greg held his breath as he forced the button down turning off the light and making him stand alone in the darkness.
“Thank you,” said a cold voice. It was a voice that made the hair on Greg’s back stand up. “I know what you are after. The silver necklace, am I right?” the voice said.
“Yes, I am after the necklace. Are you the chef?” Greg asked.
The voice replied by saying, “Yes, I am the chef.”
“Show yourself,” said Greg but didn’t get an answer. Greg hoped the chef hadn’t taken offence and left. “I apologise. I didn’t mean any offence. Could you tell me where the necklace is?” said Greg but there was still no reply. Great, thought Greg. I have scared him off. Maybe, he could try later? he wondered.
“Yes, I can tell you where the necklace is, at least, where it would be smart to look. Behind a painting, a painting of a staircase in an elevator. The elevator will take you down a storage room, there you may find your desired necklace,” said the cold unfriendly voice.
Brilliant, thought Greg. Now he had a place to start – all he needed to know was where the painting was. “Excuse me, where is this painting?” he asked but there was no reply. “A hint, at least?” he said but there was still no answer.
Greg turned the light back on, he was one step closer and all he had to do was find the painting of the staircase. It was a big hotel but it could not be that hard to find a painting. He was going to search for it after he had taken Brutus for a walk.
He started walking towards the narrow stairs. He felt calmer, he could breathe easy and it didn’t feel like the heart was going to jump out of his chest.
He lightly jogged up the narrow stairs, he hurried out of the dining room and through the hallways. He took a close look at the different paintings, none of them were of any staircase. Most paintings were of the famous Dorian Black, he looked different in every single one so it was impossible to know how he looked in real life. Greg walked to the game room first and neither Brutus nor anyone else was there. He reckoned the Brutus was probably upstairs sleeping on one of the hard hotel beds.
Greg ran up the stairs waving his light around. He felt so upbeat like he was on top of the world, he was so close to finding the necklace. He went from room to room shouting, “Brutus! Brutus!”
On the way, he met the twins so he asked them whether they had seen Brutus, but they said that they hadn’t. Greg’s upbeat feeling started to become a feeling full of worry, where could Brutus be? He felt like he had searched every room. Usually, Brutus comes running when he is shouted for because he hopes he is getting a treat.
Greg started searching the rooms thoroughly; a lump started forming in his stomach. What if something bad had happened? First Mary went missing and now Brutus? Greg started shouting loudly, “BRUTUS! BRUTUS!”
He saw something in a corner, something that looked furry. “Brutus, is that you?” The thing did not move; Greg told himself that it was just a large blanket but he had to be sure. “Brutus, come here boy.” There was still no movement.
It had to be a blanket; maybe a pelt blanket, or maybe a blanket from a bear or wolf. Greg’s pulse started to increase, the feeling of dread swooped over him. His hands were trembling and so did his legs, it felt like his knees could no longer keep him up.
Greg walked slowly keeping his light away from the bulge in fear of what it could be. “Brutus,” he whispered with a shaky voice. There was still no response, the only sound was of his feet treading lightly on the wooden floor.
He stood right over the bulge, tears started running from his eyes. “Brutus,” he said with a shaky voice as he knelt down. He took Brutus’s paw and stroke his back but there was no response. “Brutus.” He wept over and over again hoping Brutus would spring to life and the sound of his voice.
Greg gazed into Brutus’s eyes, they were wide open cold and lifeless. Greg held around Brutus, he hugged him and refused to let go. “Brutus,” he cried over and over as he held him tightly.
“I won’t let you rest here. I WON’T!” he shouted with eyes full of tears.
He had a big lump in his stomach. He should not have left Brutus alone, he should have been with him every moment of every day. He gasped for air in between sobs and held Brutus’s head to his own.
He was not going to let his corpse rest in the hotel, he had to get Brutus out of here. Greg lifted him up from the ground. He held one arm under Brutus and one around his back. He started to walk, he walked out of the room with his flashlight in his hand. His legs were shaking as he walked.
Brutus felt heavier than he ever had before but Greg was not going to stop before Brutus was over the fence away from the mountain.
He walked down the stairs, he walked slowly so that he didn’t trip and hurt Brutus even more.
Another light hit Greg in the face and his father’s voice said, “Mate, what’s going on there?” Greg did not know what to say, he just sobbed loudly. Logan walked up and took Brutus out of Greg’s hands, then he laid him on his feet and started to feel around his neck. Logan sighed and said, “His neck is broken. I am sorry son.” Logan gave Greg a hug and held him tightly as Greg let tears stream down his face.
“It seems like we have a killer in our midst,” Logan said to try and cheer Greg up, but it didn’t work. “You want me to help you bury him?” Greg shook his head and Logan gave him his car keys. “There is a shovel in the boot.”
Greg picked Brutus back up and continued wandering off, he walked out of the hotel and started his journey downwards.
The rain was pouring down from the sky, he walked slowly so that he didn’t slip on the wet muddy grass.
He heard a voice called out for him, “GREG!” He turned around and saw Karen in her blood-soaked dress. “I told you to stay in the light. Now you see what happens in the dark.”
Greg continued walking without saying so much as a peep, he wanted to be alone.
If only he could have gone back in time and taped a flashlight to his head. He had been so certain that ghosts cannot kill the living but now it felt like everything he believed came crashing down on him. He was not a ghost expert; he was not an expert on anything. If the ghosts wanted to fight him then he was ready to bring them down. Who on earth butchers an innocent dog? Whether you are living or dead that is an irredeemable thing to do.
He saw the fence; it was close, all he had to do was carry Brutus just a little longer. He carried Brutus over the fence and got struck by the summer heat.
He laid Brutus down on the grass next to the fence and went to get a shovel from the boot of the car.
Greg started digging a grave, the summer heat made sweat drip into his eyes and made his shirt soaking wet. He wanted to dig it deep so no one stumbled onto the grave by accident. He placed Brutus into the grave and he tried to make him lie in what looked like a comfortable position. Then he began pouring dirt over him. He wanted to say something but could not think of the right thing. Brutus was his best friend, he had always a happy face. They had been a part of each other’s lives for over ten years.
Rain, tears and sweat ran down his face as he tossed more and more soil in the grave. When he was finished, he laid down on the grass next to the grave and stared blankly into the cloudy sky. The rain felt warm; Brutus would have liked it, thought Greg. He always enjoyed being out in the rain, he liked to try and bite the raindrops.
He started to get more worried as he laid down with his back against the wet grass. If a ghost killed Brutus, then ghosts could kill him as well. He was going to find the necklace and then he and his dad was going to leave – leave and never return.
Going on an adventure in a forgotten hotel had sounded so fun. He had imagined him and Brutus exploring every inch of the hotel, and discovering every secret.
Greg got up from the ground, he put the shovel in the boot and climbed over the fence. The raindrops turned from warm and pleasant to cold and hard, it was like being struck over and over again by small icicles. He looked back over the fence and waved farewell to Brutus, then he began marching back up the mountain.
Eating dinner in the dining room was not very fun. His dad told everyone what had happened to Brutus and everyone said that they were sorry except Edmund who was nowhere to be found. Greg guessed that he had ventured off to the cottage for answers.
The twins became silent throughout the whole dinner, they didn’t crack jokes or laugh. The only thing they did was look around the table with worried eyes as if they thought that the killer was eating food among them.
Mary was still absent, but Bella had not said anything about her during dinner, Greg guessed that she avoided the subject since Brutus had been found dead. Even the doctor had avoided coming with any comments besides, “My condolences.”
Out of the blue, Greg could hear the doctor beginning to speak his mind. “I think we all have a suspect in mind. There are two people absent from dinner one is my son who could not go hunting because animals have feelings. And the other one is a deranged madwoman who no one has seen for over a day. A madwoman who has the eyes of a killer.”
Bella jumped up from her seat and slammed her fists in the table. “You are not accusing my daughter of being a murderer, Doctor Wrath. You are the one who clearly lacks empathy; you are the one who only cares about oneself. Next time you accuse someone of being deranged, I suggest you look in the mirror!”
Bella said calmly, “I am sorry, Greg…now if you all would excuse me, I have to search for a perfectly normal teenage girl.” Bella stormed off slamming the door shut on her way.
The doctor sighed and said to the twins, “Your mother is a piece of work; storming off like some ignorant little child.”
Barry slammed his fist in the table and shouted, “Don’t talk about my mother that way. Our sister is missing, you pathetic little git!”
“Don’t take that tone with me. Your sister is a madwoman and most likely a killer. Your whole family is just a bunch of primates.”
Ben grabbed a handful of mashed potatoes and threw it at the doctor’s tweed suit before the twins both stormed off.
“Are you all right there, Doc?” said Logan with a smile trying to ease the doctor’s mood.
“I am fine, I am just glad they didn’t throw their own faecal matter. I suppose you will clean up; it is not like you’re of much use elsewhere,” said the doctor and then he as well stormed off.
Greg’s blood was boiling, how could the doctor be so rude? He insults anyone he meets and does not give special treatment to anyone. Not even his own son. Greg felt like punching the doctor right in his jaw.
Greg had a lump in his stomach, a lump that twisted and turned and now it was also growing much larger and becoming more painful.
Logan cleared his throat and said, “Just do whatever you want to do. I got things here. Just do me a favour and don’t try to find the culprit yourself.”
Greg spent the rest of the night in his room waiting for Edmund who did not seem to show up. He put on his pyjamas; he did not think he would get to sleep but he wanted the day to be over. Greg was about to turn off the light when he remembered the warning: always stay in the light. He did not want to die in the dark, not in the hotel anyways.
Greg put the flashlight on the table and made sure that the light faced the door so that nothing bad could come in.
He laid down his head on his pillow and images of Brutus invaded his head, it was the images that made tears drip down on his pillow. He laid in bed, he was twisting and turning, and he could not seem to find a comfortable position.
The first half an hour went slow, the second one went even slower, then he heard a sound a familiar sound. The sound was barking and whimpering. It came from a dog. Greg’s first thought was that Brutus was alive, he jumped out of his bed then he remembered about the ghosts. No, it could not be. Brutus was not in the hotel; he was not buried on the mountain, and he was buried on the outside where he was free.
Someone or something started scratching on the door, Greg jumped back and had his back pressed against the cold wall. Was it a trick, did the ghost that killed Brutus try and lure him out to the darkness?
It could not be Brutus, it just couldn’t, could it? He had to find out, he could not let Brutus be trapped inside the hotel like so many before him. Greg picked up the flashlight and moved towards the door. The scratching stopped but the whimpering did not. Greg opened the door and saw Brutus sitting on the other side.
The moment Brutus saw him, he barked of joy and began running, then he stopped and waited for Greg to follow. Without thinking, Greg started running after him. What did Brutus want to show him? Did he just want to play? No matter what, Greg was more than willing to follow Brutus anywhere.
Greg ran through hallways, the two of them ran downstairs and then Greg saw Mary. Brutus barked at her aggressively like he was trying to tell Greg something. Mary and Greg were looking at each other; Mary looked like a deer in headlights. “Where have you been? Your mother has looked everywhere for you.”
“I didn’t mean to,” cried Mary as she moved closer towards Greg.
“You didn’t mean what?” asked Greg. Mary shook her head as she moved closer towards him. Brutus had started growling the moment Mary had started coming closer.
“I am sorry,” cried Mary. Greg did not know what she was sorry for but before he could think any further, Mary bashed him in the forehead with a thick bronze candleholder. Greg fell towards the ground and, before he hit the cold hard floor, everything went black.