The moment we start moving, we hear a crash at the end of the hall, and a scream that sounds less like a banshee and more like someone our age. Someone who needs our help.

“Come on,” I say. We break into a run, down the long hall filled with doors and dusty painted portraits of the hotel owners.

Five steps on, and the hall lights flicker.

Go out.

Darkness swallows us.

I feel Rohan stumble and stop beside me.

“No,” I say, fumbling for his arm. “Keep going!”

We keep running forward, arms outstretched so we don’t crash into anything. Faintly, I can see dim green dots in the darkness. Eyes. Hundreds of pairs of eyes lining the hall. The portraits? Are the portraits staring at us with ghostly inner light?

The lights flicker back on.

The hall is no longer empty.

Skeletons stand like sentries in the doorways, still as statues. We try to skid to a halt, but we’re moving too fast.

We tumble past a pair of them.

Awakening them.

One by one, their skulls snap to attention and stare at us with burning green eyes.

“Uh-oh,” Rohan yelps.

Instantly the skeletons leap to attack, swiping at us with their sharp fingers, gnashing their jaws menacingly.

We duck and tumble and dodge, trying to avoid getting snatched and dragged into the darkened doorways behind the skeletal guards.

None of us want to end up like Jacob.

One of the skeletons grabs Mira’s arm, but I make a fist and smash my hand as hard as I can against the skeleton’s wrist. It wails out as its bones crack and splinter. It releases Mira, and the three of us run on.

The lights go out again.

This time, we’re caught so off guard we stumble, collapsing to the carpet in a small pile.

“No!” Mira yells.

I close my eyes, wincing against the skeletal scratches that surely are coming, waiting for bony fingers to wrap around my neck.

But a second passes. Then another.

The lights flicker back on.

The hallway is empty. Completely empty.

Distantly, from the way we came, I swear I hear the ominous low cackle of the Grand Dame.

Laughing at our fear.

Laughing at our plight.

The three of us struggle to our feet.

“Everyone okay?” Mira asks.

“Yeah,” Rohan says. He keeps looking around. “What was that? Where’d they go? Why didn’t they take us?”

“The hotel,” I say, “or whoever is in charge of the hotel, is playing with us.”

“This isn’t funny!” Rohan yells down the hall.

“Shh!” Mira says, nudging him in the ribs. “Don’t make it mad.”

“Or what?” he asks, slightly hysterical. “What could possibly be worse than this?”

“Let’s not wait around to find out,” I reply, and continue on toward where I hope the rest of our class is safely waiting.