Spirit Hotel

The rain just wouldn’t stop. It would be fine if it were a nice cool drizzle, but this weather definitely qualified as raining cats and dogs. Even the new windscreen wipers could not provide me with a few seconds of visibility. I was near a street light now, which was just as well a parking spot as any during a downpour at 11 pm. 

This trip to Aunt’s place had sucked out my energy like a seven-day work week. The four-hour drive and rainfall warning had not been able to deter me from leaving the minute little Payal went to sleep. Despite being stranded halfway through the journey, I did not regret my decision to not stay overnight. The only person happier about it than me would be Aunt. 

Sighing, I stared out the window, struggling to make out anything in the rain and hoping to spot an inn. There was definitely a tall dark building across the road, with dull lights scattered behind its many windows. An LED sign over the lobby appeared to be listing its name, but through the water-blurred window I could only make out neon white blobs. 

As I pondered whether it was worth the risk of running across in the rain, a momentary lull in the rain revealed one of the blobs to be ‘Hotel’. I pulled my jacket close and dashed out, sprinting towards the building. Once under the shade of the lobby, I craned my neck to read the sign properly, wondering if my credit card discount would apply. It read ‘Spirit Hotel’. 

That was not a familiar name. In fact, I did not remember ever seeing this building before during my previous trips to Aunt’s house. But then again, I only went there once a year. As I pushed open the glass door, a cold breeze chilled me to the bone. Shivering, I strode inside, uncomfortably aware of my wet clothes sticking to my skin. Walking across the pristine marble floor, I wondered why I hadn’t simply driven my car to the lobby.

Fortunately, no one seemed to care that I looked like a drowned rat. If they had, it would be rather hypocritical because apart from the staff in their black uniforms, everyone was dressed oddly. The woman in a white ball gown with dark red patterns near the elevator was clearly overdressed for a hotel in the middle of nowhere. Two youngsters glided by me in just bathrobes and I spotted a trio lounging on the sofas in scuba gear. Hopefully, it was just some sort of theme party. 

I made a beeline for the reception, taking my place in a short queue. A tingle ran down my spine and I turned my ring nervously, feeling something off about this whole place. Perhaps it was the way people on the floor just glided across noiselessly, occasionally chatting with their companions in whispers. 

During the time I was observing the hotel, the queue had shortened considerably until there was just a family ahead of me. It was a family of three dressed in bulky hiking gear and the woman was having a rather odd conversation with the receptionist.

“Alright Ma’am, let me confirm the details with you. You’re a family of three that had gone trekking in the Andes and got trapped in an avalanche. It’s been seven days since. You were recommended here by a registered wanderer. Is that correct?”, asked the receptionist.

“Yes, that sounds right”.

“Very well, can you please show me your recommendation card?”

The lady passed an obsidian black card over the desk. 

“Unfortunately, you do not qualify for our fresh departure scheme. The good news is that you can avail free drinks with your recommendation.” the receptionist continued. 

“What about our checkouts?”, the lady asked.

“Well, the two of you are scheduled for a brief stay, but your daughter will need a few more weeks. Not to worry, we have experienced caretakers here and great facilities. Here’s your room card. It’s floor 27, room 47. Terry will show you. Next!”

Fresh departure scheme? Recommendations? I wondered if I could get a room without being invited to the theme party. Wait, floor 27? From the outside, the building only looked to be fifteen stories high...

“Sir!”, the receptionist knocked on the desk, “Your ID number, please.”

“G268319A54”, I replied without thinking and immediately regretted it. I should not be handing out my personal data like that. 

“Understood. It says here that you are divorced. There was an accident. It’s been fifteen minutes. Is that correct?”

“Sure”, I said, not completely understanding what she meant.

“Congratulations! You are eligible for the fresh departure scheme. You’ll get a deluxe room with a great view. It’s room 13 on floor 31. I’ll make sure to-”

“Hold on, I just want a simple bed for the night”, I interrupted. 

“That’s funny, Sir. It’s good, you have a 3-year long stay so you’ll need that sense of humor. As I was saying, I’ll have a set of clothes sent up. In the new policy, it’s mandatory for accidents”, she replied calmly. 

The room card was on the desk, obsidian like that recommendation card, with gold lettering. The receptionist gestured for me to take it as though nothing was wrong. I cautiously picked it up and inched away, looking around the lobby for someone who could enlighten me on how the hotel functioned. The receptionist did not even ask for a deposit but decided on a room type and duration of stay for me. Who stays in a hotel for three years anyways?

I remembered the family of three from the queue and turned towards the elevators. Luckily, they were still there so I headed toward them with a friendly smile. The lift tinged upon arrival and I broke out into a run, hoping the doors would stay open long enough for me to get in. 

The family of three coolly passed through the doors and disappeared. I screeched to a halt. The elevator doors had never opened. I spun around to see if anyone else had noticed the abnormality. They were clearly unbothered. Even worse, my shoes were clearly soaked but there were no footprints on the shiny marble floor. I stared at the boots of a gentleman who had just walked in, wondering if he would track in muddy footprints.

My eyes widened in shock as I realized that there were no footprints because his feet were half an inch off the ground. He was floating. I felt clammy all over and gripped the room card tightly. The cold sensation jolted me out of my stupor. 

As cold dread filled my lungs, I hurtled towards the door, desperate to get away from this ghost building. Just a few more steps and I could leave this haunted place. 

I collided against something invisible. A barrier of sorts. I moved a few steps to my right and tried running to the door again, only to crash onto the same barrier. I hammered against it to no avail. 

My debacle had attracted some spectators. They were all ghosts, making me double my efforts. 

“Must be an accident”, they whispered, “otherwise he would have realized he’s dead”. 

Pitying glances were thrown my way. I felt my energy seep away. There was no way I was dead. I was just driving from...where was it? I couldn’t believe it. I could not recall anything except driving. 

I thought about my car and stared outside at the street light across the road. There was a flash of lightning and saw my beloved ride crumpled against the pole. The driver’s door was open. Another flash of lightning revealed a bloody hand leaning against the road, silver band glinting. 

I slunk to the floor, utterly blank. The same silver band nestled around my middle finger weighed down on me like a shackle. All the way to hell, perhaps, I thought grimly.