Haunting in New York

Floor 15

 The doors opened.

  It was unexpected and strange before my eyes, it must of been a minor paranormal activity that emerged due to some mentioning that almost sounded like his or her previous situation that he/she had been in before death occurred. Maybe the pitifully elevators have ghosts for all I care.

  I take a step out the elevator expecting to see a busy hallway like one of those paranormal movies involving some Science fiction and hocus pocus. The metal steel beneath my feet made its usuall sound after I got out.

   The hallway is expecially silent than what I thought it to be.

  "He's in the room down to the right side of the hallway where it's at the dead middle and he is more of a nerdier paranormal geek who tries repetitively to contact the other-side for your information." Dorothy tells  me, strolling out the elevator after me. "Mr Ruthur is..."

 Dorothy shook her head after she stopped.

 "You will be GLAD to meet him." She finished,with a cheerful smile and went walking down the hallway.

  I raised a eyebrow.

 Why did she hesitate when mentioning him? I thought,while heading down the hallway. I should figure his case out after I get some questions answered which will be a piece of cake. I confidently head towards the room. I can do it.

  CCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCKKK

 "What the fick?" I said, then I realized I just used the word that is used around here. "Awww man. I just joined in the crowd of....Word-maker-uppers!" I muttered to myself with a hint of ignorance easily passing through my voice.

  Some of the doors are painted a dark ash black or a dark rich brown with vivid outlines of wood going up and down the entire built object, except the easy going pattern is broken completely by  one red door that perhaps is the managers room.

  "Haroollld."

   I look over my shoulder.

 "Yes?" I began, expecting to see somebody there. but there isn't. "Very strange."

 I knocked on the door.

 Knock Knock Knooock

 If anyone was there with me then they would hear something like a wiji board being moved across the table and just a cold breeze going by our shoulders like something went past. This is exactly what happed after I had knocked.

  The door slightly opened.

  "Hello?" I said, peaking my eyes through a peep hole to see a man using a brown board from across the room that seems very much clean and organized like a OCD person swept through the entire room from clutter to clean.

 I walk into the room.

  Huh-hum

 The manager looks up from his board with an expected expression on his face that mostly was like 'OH GEEZERS MY FACE' Instead of 'oh crap a reporter' expression and I can know this because I have interviewed a LOT of people on my jobs. 

  "Hello, I am Harold The reporter." I began, shutting the door behind me. "I am here to ask about--"

  "I became so engrossed by the paranormal because I met a ghost friend in the afterlife which I discovered two weeks after this building opened from construction, he has been informing me about whats been going on in this hotel. I guess you can say he is my right hand man for the entire hotel."

 He went on.

 "My ghost pal can help with the small problems.He doesn't know why several of the dead people are still staying here inside this decade and two years building." The Manager continued yapping about. "For now I am trying to contact the guy who claimed to have seen the ET's visit our building, late one summer night in 2010--"

  Yawwwwnnnn.

 The hair on my arms stood up as I sensed somebody else is here listening to his rambles and pretty much tired about it like I am.

  "Did you hear that?" I interupted the manager. "A ghost just yawned,like,really loud."

  The Manager laughs.

  "Which reminds me for some reason..."  The Manager began,clearing his throat. "Lisa's been sick for a few days because she got 'the White sheet flu'."

  What does she have to do with this? I asked myself

 "How was your sister after she got out the building?" I asked, holding my notepad. I anticipated him to draw a long breath from all that talking he did before. 1..2...3..4...5..6..7.8..9..1--

  The Manager takes a lengthy breath.

 "Sherry had a black eye, bruised cheek and red hands like she had recently cooked something before she had left the building...Reminds me of the time where Mom was teaching us how to bake pie and smoke poofed on her face!"

 One thing I know for sure....this guy is a chatter bomb.

Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaak

I turned my head around to see Sherry walk into the room.

"Are you here for the business rates of this hotel?" Sherry asks, her voice sounded sly and not so handy as it had been in the past able to multileplate a single person into doing her choice of chores or business. "Because you are seriously not going to get it."

 "No--"

And she went on.

"Sister, he's asking about when you got out of the building." Ruther told his sister, sounding relaxed and laid back."The Fourth building."

Shery's eyes froze in place.

"Why?" She croaked,unable to speak more than one word as her hand is beneath her neck exhausting breath from her tall body.

 "The Alan Walsh case has been opened--"

"I recommend you call it the Chevrol case." Ruther interupts me.

"I am not going to talk without lawyer present." She grid her teeth. "Now leave before I kick you out of the hotel for life. Yes. we can kick people out for life or ban them for enternity."

The next thing I know....

The door was shut in my face.