Nathaniel sits there in the chair, for what feels like an eternity. His soul disembodied as he looks at the decaying corpse of Beatrice in the picture.
How am I going to tell her? He thinks, running his hand over his face.
His fingers brush against the picture, forever sketching itself into his memories and storing it in his nightmares.
A hot tear runs down his left cheek, he wipes it away quickly.
"I'm so sorry Beatrice," he whispers to himself.
Better to hear this from the horse's mouth, he tells himself, pushing himself off the wooden chair.
Nathaniel turns off the computer and beelines for the door, slamming it shut behind him and locks it.
He races up the small hill and towards the back-kitchen door of the hotel.
"Sorry," he mumbles, pushing past one of the few staff in there.
"Excuse me".
He hurries through the door, hurtling towards the reception. Liam stands there, looking particularly bored.
"You were quicker than I thought- ".
"No time," Nathaniel waves, folding the article in his hand.
"Here," he says, handing over the office key, "it helped. A lot".
"Glad to hear," Liam says, turning to place the key in the cabinet behind him. Liam hooks it on one of the lower hooks, the tag B.O. above it. He turns to see to Nathaniel, but he's already gone.
Nathaniel reaches the left-wing stairs, hurrying up them.
He slows his pace, reaching the top of the stairs.
Man, he thinks tiredly, I need to work out more.
He inhales sharply, taking in a deep breath.
Nathaniel pushes on, turning on the landing, the view of the hallway coming into view. He pauses, "Janice?".
She stands outside her room, locking the door. She turns to look at him, wearing a long-sleeved white top, light blue jeans, and her white Nike trainers.
"Oh," she says surprised, "hello".
Nathaniel walks towards her, it is in that moment he notices how red her eyes are.
He slows his pace, wanting to reach out to comfort her.
"Is... everything ok?" he asks softly.
Janice's eyes widen slightly, forgetting herself and wipes away the steaming tears falling from her sore eyes.
"Y-yeah, I'm fine," she brushes off.
"You don't look fine".
"Yeah, well..." she shrugs, "I don't think I'm ever fine".
She sighs, leaning back against her door.
Nathaniel rubs the folded piece of paper in his hand with his thumb, reminding himself to push further.
"Now, we can't have this," he says, offering his elbow to her. She looks at him warily, unsure of whether to accept.
"You can trust me, I promise," he assures, giving her a heartfelt look.
She accepts, taking his arm in hers and lets him guide her towards the right-wing of the hotel.
"So, I'm not going to push you to tell me... but I do have a bottle of whiskey in my room," he eyes her prominent belly, "of course, for myself, but I can make a mean cup of tea".
YOU ARE READING
The Hart Hotel
Mystery / ThrillerAfter discovering the deaths at the Hart Hotel, Nathaniel faces his demons once again. Going back to where it all began to put an end to the reign of terror that has seeped its way into its walls. With the spirit of an elderly woman to accompany him...
