The Monsters of the Mind

Part 2

Footsteps entered, soft and lightweight. I could hear shuffling, like fabric being bundled up, then the steps again. The door closed with a slight 'click,' the lock returning to its proper place.

I stood up from the tub, grabbing one of the nearby towels, and wrapping it around my body as I exited the bath and moved slowly toward the door. I bit my lip as I released the lock, opening the door a tiny crack. From my spot, I couldn't see anything missing. My purse handles were still hanging by the desk where I had left it, the wardrobe door was still open with my jacket hanging, my shoes were still by the bed...

But my jeans and socks were missing.

I pushed the door open wider, hoping to try and figure out where in the world my jeans could have gone, but the door was stuck on something. I looked down, discovering a small pile of dark grey cloth. I gently picked it up, discovering a pair of men's dress pants in the entryway to the bathroom.

I frowned. There was only one person I knew who could have taken my jeans and replaced them with a pair of his own pants.

'At least you'll have something dry to wear.'

My mind halted at that statement.

It was true. My jeans had been soaked by the downpour and were hardly wearable with the dampness still clinging to them. Mr. Hall most likely thought to give me a replacement pair until they could be dried. He was trying to be helpful and courteous - but that didn't excuse him from crossing boundaries, especially since I didn't know him and he didn't know me.

I groaned inwardly. I was grateful for the spare pair, but he would need to be talked to, that's for sure.

***

The doors to the elevator opened as I stepped out into the hallway on the main floor. My hair was still a bit damp from both the rain and the tub water, but mostly dry. I redonned my mostly dry shirt and the offered men's pants that had been left outside my bathroom door. Satisfied that I at least looked presentable, I had gone to search for my mysterious host.

I heard voices coming from one of the long hallways, towards the back end of the hotel where there was little to no light to help guide my footing. There was also a lot of clanking and rummaging-like noises from the same direction. I moved slowly, my hand running against the wall, as I listened to what sounded like Mr. Hall arguing with another individual.

"Just leave her alone," Mr. Hall was speaking, "She hasn't done anything wrong! Her car broke down like I said."

"And you want to believe that, don't you Jimmy?" The voice was taunting, lighter than Mr. Hall's, "She's a bad egg, that one. Much like how dear little Maya was when she first walked through these halls."

"That was entirely your fault!" Mr. Hall snapped back, "Had you agreed and left Maya and her friends alone, perhaps the outcome would've been different!"

"Oh? And you think this Kylie girl will have a different outcome?" The voice spoke again, "Don't forget, Jimmy, that what happened was as much as your fault as it was mine."

"Shut up! SHUT UP!" I jumped as a loud crash echoed beyond the doors next to me.

Now, a part of me really wanted to run, to get away from this place and back out into the rain, run to where it was safer instead of this place. But, that part that always ached for those in trouble - in pain or anguish - pulled on my heartstrings and forced my body toward the kitchen doors. I knocked on the closed entryway, "Mr. Hall?"