The Monsters of the Mind

Part 6

"Are you sure you want to go in there?" my driver asked me as I was pulling my wallet out to pay him for his service, "There are other hotels to stay at you know..."

"I've already called them and they're all booked to capacity," I answered, a little firmer than what I had intended, "and I'm not about to hitch a ride to the next town over as I want to be close by for when my car is repaired."

The man only shrugged his shoulders, trying to be indifferent. I paid him the amount due for my ride - £22.28 - and pulled my large suitcase from the backseat and closed the passenger door. When I turned to look up at the hotel, it was deja vu all over again - the heavy rain, the chill that ran through my bones upon meeting the mysterious owner, the strange occurrences that I had seen so far - both in reality and within dreams. I steeled my nerves, holding my head up high as I headed for the three-steps leading up to the main doors of the hotel. As soon as I opened the door, I could hear the taxi pulling away. I wouldn't have been surprised if the poor driver sped all the way back into town and told everyone that I had returned to the Sea View Hotel.

Locals.

The entryway was still the same as it had been last night - old peeling wallpaper, dust covered pictures and lampshades, 1920s themed furniture - it was like I had never left. I retraced my steps to the reception desk and, like the previous night, rang the service bell and waited for Mr. Hall to make his appearance. He was there in a flash, appearing out of thin air like a ghost.

"Welcome back, Miss Martin," he greeted me with his usual charm, pulling the key to my hotel room off the hook rack and handing it to me, "There you are. You remember which floor you were on and the location of the lift, I presume?"

"Yes, and thank you again for everything you've done for me thus far."

I fiddled with my room key. Mr. Hall was turning to head back into his office before I stopped him, "Mr. Hall?"

He stopped and turned to look at me, "Yes, Miss Martin?"

"Are they true then?" I couldn't help but ask, my curiosity peeking.

"Is what true?"

"The rumors? I was told that there was a curse surrounding this place, that anyone who checked in seldomly checked out again."

"No, absolutely not," he smiled softly, "I was always perceived as... strange, different from the other kids. In a town like this, rumors start because of fear or misunderstanding. I'm one of the more popular subjects of gossip due to several events that happened in this hotel that I was present for - and many people believe I was the one who caused them."

"What sort of events?"

"Now that... that's a story for another time, I think," he winked, "However, as I'm sure you're well aware, rumors travel fast in small towns - the power of belief is a strange thing, Miss Martin. Regardless, as very few people come here, I'm not at all surprised for outsiders wanting to stay away."

"But, shouldn't you do something about it?" I was suddenly very concerned. Yes, Mr. Jimmy Hall was a strange man in his own way, but the hotel was suffering deeply because of it. It felt like an injustice for people to cause harm that would affect his business to the point where people stopped coming because of it.

Mr. Hall was silent, as if there was a battle going on within his mind of how to respond to my sudden question. His features hardened and softened as seconds passed, his throat seemingly to tighten as a result.

"Miss Martin," his voice was thick, from emotion or something else - I wasn't sure, "I do appreciate your concern. You're one of the few who has shown me any other emotion other than fear - save for last night, but I'm willing to look over that as I was not in my right state of mind. But, it's been going on for years that I've grown accustomed to it. Do not fret yourself thinking that I will lose anything. As I said last night, it's for the best that I am alone."

The response he had given me was a clear indication he no longer wished to discuss it. He was hurting by the fact - that I had no doubt - but there was something more. There was something within him that made him want people to stay away. It may have had something to do with what the diner manager said or perhaps what I may have overheard last night regarding this person called 'Maya.' Whatever the reason, it gave my mind more ammunition to look deeper into the hotel.

But, I wasn't going to let Mr. Hall know about this - not yet at least.

"I understand, I apologize Mr. Hall."

His features softened again, a smile spreading across his face in relief, "I forgive you, Miss Martin."

"And thank you again," I smiled, "I do appreciate everything you've done for me so far."

"No, thank you Kylie for believing in me."

***

Room 110 was the same I had left it in, the only difference being a new change of bedding - petal pink sheets with a dusty rose colored comforter. The room had been cleaned - the wardrobe wiped down along with the bed posts, the table, and the desk, the carpeting vacuumed, and the bathroom was spotless with a set of fresh towels - the color matching that of the bed.

I set my case down and zipped it open, pulling fresh shirts, jeans, socks, and under clothes out before replacing them into the wardrobe. I reasoned that I would at least make the room feel like my own for the few short days I would be here. My purse followed the three books I had brought, something that I thought I would read during my stay somewhere. I tucked the large bag into the wardrobe, closing it.

I moved around to the bedside, intending to place a few small things - my phone charger, the three books, and other trinkets I had brought - on or within the nightstand. The first drawer opened with surprising ease, allowing me to set two of my books in the drawer as well as my small bag of cheap jewelry I had brought. The second drawer, however, took a bit of time to pull open. I jiggled the drawer, easing it open gently as not to break it. As soon as the drawer was open, I was a bit surprised to see a small pink purse sitting within and covered with dust.

I gently picked it up, turning it over in my hands. The was a simple clasp coin purse with little pink flamingos covering the fabric. It looked like something a child - perhaps a small girl - would carry around and keep their allowance in. The purse itself felt soft, made from a cotton blend material, but felt aged as well. Dust clung to the fabric like it had been left in the drawers for a few years instead of a few days. It was also very light - I slowly pried it open to see if there was something inside, but it was empty - empty as the hotel that I found myself in.

"I wonder..." I closed the drawer slowly and set the purse at the top of my book, saving it for later. I would ask Mr. Hall if he knew anything about it and if there was a way to contact the person to whom it belonged to. However, a part of me believed that it belonged to the little girl that I had seen in the hallway the previous night.

The same little girl who had vanished without a trace.