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Two guests find their way into my lobby tonight.
Hm. Odd. I’ve had guests that were fresh adults, often stumbling in with a skimpy dress and intoxicated by something. But I haven’t had anyone as young as Owen set foot into my Hotel. And I’ve certainly never had more than one at a time.
No matter. They were guests, after all. And we never turned down a guest.
Still, curiosity got the better of me, and I lingered in my back room. Watching. Waiting to see what they would do.
They’re both soaked to the bone. Caught in the rain without an umbrella, perhaps. Rebecca rings out her hair on my carpet. “That came out of nowhere,” she mutters to no one.
Owen sighs and takes off his raincoat, and it’s now that I notice he’s missing his left hand. “Hopefully we can ride out the worst of it here.” He spoke like an old soul, a deep seated exhaustion rooted in his pre-pubescent voice.
“Now I’ve just gotta figure out where I parked…” She sighs, as she finally starts to look around my lobby.
It’s fairly modest today, well kept but far from first class. Brown and white patterned carpets, some brown cloth chairs with a quaint coffee table, simple glass double doors, and a plain stainless steel door for the elevator. Shame, really. I always preferred the fancy lobbies, the ones where it felt like your own existence could tarnish the place.
Owen’s walking over to the front desk. He’s almost too short to see the guest book resting on top. It’s empty, of course. They’re the first guests tonight. Rebecca walks over as well, and she doesn’t have to stand on her tiptoes to read the empty guest book. They both walk away without signing it.
I decided to make an appearance.
I slip out from my back room, staring with my normal greeting of, “Hello, how can I help you?” I’m not sure how I expected to react. Mild delight. Maybe even a slight annoyance.
I certainly wasn’t expecting sheer horror.
Not yet, anyways. Oftentimes, it wasn’t until the room started to close in around them that mortal terror started to kick in. But they haven’t even left the lobby, and already they were frozen in fear. To call this unusual would be an understatement.
But it didn’t matter. They were guests, after all.
“Is everything all right?” I ask.
Heavy silence filled my lobby. Then, they share the briefest of glances, before Owen makes a beeline for the front door. Adison stands between me and him, as if I was the one who was going to slaughter him.
“Yeah.” Her voice is level and calm. But I can see the fear in her eyes. “We uh… just took a wrong turn somewhere. Don’t mind us.”
The doors rattle frantically behind her. Locked. Neither of us acknowledge it.
The Hotel never turns away a guest.
I take a step closer.
“Get away from us.” Her reserve cracks. She takes a step toward Owen, extending an arm as if it would do anything. He’s still trying to open the door.
Things were only getting more difficult by the second. I might have to get my Lobby Boy to drag them to their room. “I’m sure you’re exhausted, so why don’t you settle down in one of our rooms for the night--”
“Mary Molly.”
Those two words hit me like a tidal wave. I… I know that name. I’ve never heard that name. Where…
She didn’t stop. “Born on March 22nd, 1987, in Mineral Point, Wisconsin. You were on a business trip in Chicago when you checked into room 541 on August 8th of 2011. Or at least you would have if you even made it past the lobby.”
Each and every word shakes me to my core. I… I’ve seen her before. She was on the other end of the front desk. But I was created by the Hotel, she must have been created by the Hotel. So why…
“We’re not checking in.” I barely hear the words.
The boy, the one who I firmly remember was mopping up my remains before I had even hit the floor, finally opened the door. He dashed out into the night, pausing only for a second to wait for Adison. She takes a few slow steps backward, watching me closely, before joining her companion.
The doors click softly before them.