THE INN

Genre: Horror

 

 

 

THE INN

By Randy Romero

 

It was 3 AM and Meredith was running on gas station coffee, chocolate, and nicotine. A perfectly healthy diet for a thirty-five-year-old divorcee. Of course, she couldn’t smoke with Amy in the car. So she had to pull off somewhere whenever the craving struck.

When she drove, her eyes burned like hot coals as she tried to keep them focused on the road ahead. Meredith hated the thought of disturbing Amy, who was sound asleep in the backseat of her red Honda Accord. But she couldn’t keep this up for much longer. She needed a good night’s rest to recharge her batteries.

The problem was they were smack dab in the middle of nowhere. Meredith wasn’t even sure what town or even what county they were in anymore. The roads were dim and full of unexpected curves and sharp turns, and the landmarks were few and far between. So she drove on and on, sipping her coffee, eating her chocolates, until finally, a beacon of hope. She spotted a green sign with big white letters that promised food, gas, and lodging. She took a quick right and followed the signs all the way to the Lamplighter Inn. The neon sign read VACANCY.

She turned in and parked next to the only other car in the lot, an old station wagon.

Amy started to come around, yawning, her eyes blinking rapidly. “Where are we?” she asked.

“A motel, sweetie. It’s late and mommy needs to rest for a little while.”

“Can we get two beds so we don’t have to share? No offense, mom.”

Meredith chuckled. “None taken, honey. Yes, we’ll get a room with two beds. Now come on, grab your suitcase and follow mommy inside.”

The main office was deserted. There was nobody behind the front desk. But there was ledger on the desk, and a bell right beside it. As soon as Meredith’s hand reached for the bell, a man emerged from the back room, startling her. He placed his palm over the bell to prevent Meredith from hitting it.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. I wasn’t expecting anyone to show up so late. You need a room?”

“Yeah, one with two beds, if you’ve got it.”

“Not a problem.” He was a portly man, somewhere in his late forties, with a puffy face and coke bottle glasses. His hairline was badly receding, forming an almost horseshoe-like pattern around his head.

There was a wall of keys behind the desk, and the man turned and plucked one down.

“Room 3. Just a few rooms down from the office. I’m here till dawn if you need anything. Name’s Myron. Myron Reed. All we ask here is that you please keep the noise down. You wouldn’t want to disturb the other guests.”

Other guests? Meredith wondered. There was only one other car in the parking lot. What other guests is he referring to?

She accepted the key to her room uneasily. She filled out the ledger in a rush, scribbling her name, and paid for her room upfront.

“Ya’ll have a good night,” Myron added.

Meredith hurried Amy to their room. Their were two double beds, as Meredith had requested. A writing desk. Antique mirror that hung above a small dresser. Beside the dresser, an old television set. No kitchen, no mini fridge, no complimentary mints on their pillows, no frills. But Meredith didn’t need anything extravagant. She needed a warm bed and a good night’s sleep.

Meredith laid down once she got Amy tucked in. She closed her eyes tight but couldn’t sleep. The noise kept her awake. She could hear people in the other rooms, rummaging around, talking softly, or making other strange sounds Meredith couldn’t decipher.

All we ask is that you please keep the noise down. You wouldn’t want to disturb the other guests. And why had the desk clerk phrased it the way he had. Why did he emphasize the word ‘you’, as if there was something about Meredith the other guests would find particularly offensive?

The noises persisted. Shuffling and scratching, coughing, talking, loud banging noises.

Thud, thud, thud.

Thud, thud, thud.

The noises grew so loud, Meredith was convinced the aforementioned ‘other guests’ were in the same room as her. She looked over and saw that Amy was fast asleep again. Meredith slipped out of bed, took a smoke from her pack, and snuck outside. A cigarette pursed between her lips, she lit it and took a look around the Inn. It was the first time that she noticed, despite the lack of automobiles in the parking lot, the lights were on in every room. She could see them shining through the curtains. She could even make out silhouettes behind some of those curtains.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

Meredith squealed. She twisted around and saw the desk clerk standing behind her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean startle you…again. I was just going to ask you for a cigarette.”

“I left my pack inside. I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright. Couldn’t sleep?”

“Too loud.”

“Yeah, it gets like that sometimes. Still, best to keep the noise to a minimum. The other guests can be rather ill tempered.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Myron simply shrugged at first. Then he said, “Lady, it’s their motel. We just run it.” With that, he left Meredith alone with more questions than answers. She finished her cigarette and made sure Myron wasn’t still lurking around.

On the way back to her room, the door to Room 1 creaked open and an older woman peered out.

“New here?” the woman asked.

“I’m on the road. Just spending the night.”

“Well, seeing as how we’re both awake, can I interest you in a drink?”

Meredith thought about it for a moment. A drink would ease her frayed nerves. It might even help her sleep. Then she thought about Amy.

“I really should be getting back to my daughter.”

“I’m sure she’s fine. Come on in,” the woman invited her.

She was older, maybe by ten or fifteen years. She was a short woman with shorter hair, auburn in color. Her skin was starting to wrinkle and sag. She wore a green turtleneck sweater, which Meredith found odd considering the heat, but she wasn’t going to question her host. She had a bottle of wine on ice and poured two glasses. She waited for the woman to drink first before she took a sip.

“I’m Leslie.”

“Meredith Burns. My daughter, Amy, is in the next room. Maybe I can introduce you to her tomorrow before we leave.”

“Sure, that would be lovely. So, have you met any of the other guests?”

“No, I can’t say that I have.”

“Good, because some of them have quite the temper. Me, I like to keep to myself for the most part. But it’s nice to talk to someone every now and then.”

“Where is it that you came from?” Meredith asked.

“Oh, I’ve been all over the place,” Leslie said, avoiding the question.

“And how did you end up here at the Lamplighter?”

“Fate?” the woman said and shrugged, though she posed it as a question, as if she was uncertain.

Leslie took a sip and one of her sleeves rolled down, allowing Meredith to catch a glimpse of the deep scars on her wrist. No blood, but the skin was completely opened up. By all rights, she should be dead. Meredith didn’t address it. She finished her drink in a hurry, thanked her host, and said her goodbyes.

She let the door slam behind her and sprinted past it, but came to a stop at the next room.

The door to Room 2 was slightly ajar and she could hear voices on the other side…

 

 

***

 

 

Amy woke in darkness but not silence. It sounded like somebody was stomping around on the roof. Thud, thud, thud.

Thud, thud, thud.

It got so loud, it sounded like someone was stamping around the room.

“Mom,” Amy called out. No answer.

When she got no reply, she became frantic. “Mommy!” she wailed. “Mommy, where are you?”

“Hush,” a voice said. It was whisper quiet, but it was undeniable.

“W-w-who s-said that?” Amy asked, stumbling over her words.

In the corner of the room, she saw it. A dark figure, dressed all in grey. She couldn’t see its face. All she could see were its hands. No skin. Only bone.

 

 

***

 

 

The door opened on its own and Meredith saw things she could not unsee. The carpets saturated with blood. The walls streaked red. Fragments of brain and skull. Several body bags. Detectives mulling over the crime scene. Rainbow unicorn sneakers that no doubt belonged to a little girl no older than Amy, spotted with blood. She felt physically ill. She didn’t linger. Just turned and walked away.

Meredith returned to the room and found Amy waiting for her.

“Mommy…we have to go now.”

And Meredith seemed to concur. They left without even checking out. She left the key hanging in the door. She had already paid for the night. No reason to linger or say farewell. They were on the road in a couple of minutes and Meredith didn’t stop until she reached the next county, and that was only for more coffee.

 

***

 

 

Nine years later.

Veronica Hale was facing the ultimate teenage dilemma. She couldn’t decide what to wear. On one hand, her and her friends were only going to the movies. On the other hand, Shane Beecher was going to be there, and she wanted to make an impression. But she didn’t want it to seem too obvious.

“Should I dress casual? I don’t want Shane to think I’m desperate. But I don’t want to blow my chance either. Maybe I should wear a dress? No, that’s too much. Maybe a blouse and a skirt instead? Shit, I can’t decide.”

“Veronica, take a chill pill,” Gina Caruso told her. “It’s Shane Beecher. He likes anything with a vagina. Whatever you wear is fine.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re perfect. I’m a mess. My skin is terrible. My hair is all frizzy. My wardrobe is my one shot at standing out.”

Gina sighed. “What are you reading about?” she asked, turning her attention to Max. Max wasn’t dating any of the girls. But he was Veronica’s next-door neighbor and they grew up together. They enjoyed a platonic relationship and trusted each other for advice on the opposite sex. They hung out together, ate together, went to the movies together, and that friendship extended to Veronica’s circle.

“Spirits,” Max said casually.

“I worry about you sometimes,” Gina said, shaking her head.

“What’s wrong with being curious about the afterlife? And you’re telling me ghosts aren’t real? Nobody here’s ever had a spiritual encounter?”

“My bedroom door slammed shut one time,” Veronica chimed in. “There was nobody here. No windows were open. There was nothing that could have caused it to slam shut like that. But I swear to God it happened.”

“One time, I felt something touch my arm when I was sleeping at my grandparent’s house,” Gina confessed. “There was no one in the room with me.”

“You sure it wasn’t your grandpa?” Max asked.

“Very funny, wise ass.”

“I had a pretty creepy experience once,” their friend said. “It was years ago. My mom and I were on the road, which is a nice way of saying we were on the run from my dad. My mom had finally divorced him and wanted to get as far away as possible. She was tired one night so we stopped at this place, the Lamplighter Inn. Just thinking about it gives me the creeps. I remember waking up and my mom was gone, but I heard footsteps. Then I saw someone standing in the corner of the room. We left immediately. My mom was afraid of that place too. She never told me what it was, but she saw something that really spooked her that night. I try to forget about it, but I can’t.”

“You said the Lamplighter Inn?” Max asked.

“Yeah, why?

“That place was legendary. A lot of crazy shit went down at the Lamplighter. Murders, drug deals gone wrong, mob executions, overdoses. Some broad went berserk and slit her wrists, then her own throat. Another guy fried himself in the bathtub. When did you say you stayed there?”

“Oh, it was years ago,” Amy said. “I was six at the time. And it was just one of many stops my mom and I made on the road.”

“So that would’ve been about nine years ago…it couldn’t have been the Lamplighter. I’ve read a lot about that place. The Lamplighter burned down twelve years ago. The guy who worked the night shift just snapped one night and doused every room in gasoline. Started the fire while he was still inside. Sick fuck. Some say the lingering spirits drove him to do it.”

A chill ran down Amy’s spine. “Do you remember the guy’s name?”

“Yeah, Myron. Myron Reed.”