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“Please!”
“No Rudo. Now get the hell off me so I can go to bed.”
“Please, no!” Rudo’s fingers tightened around the front of Enjin’s shirt like he could physically anchor his father to the room. “Please, I’ll sleep on the floor! I don’t care! Just don’t leave me here!”
Enjin pried Rudo’s hands off with the patience of a man who had clearly dealt with this sort of dramatics before. “You’ll be fine,” he said, deadpan. “I believe in you.”
The hotel room door swung shut behind him with a soft but devastating click. The sound echoed like a prison cell locking.
Rudo stood frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the closed door in mute horror. Betrayal radiated off him in waves. His own father had abandoned him, left him to die.
“Damn, little dude,” Jabber drawled from somewhere behind him, his voice thick with amusement. “Didn’t know you hated us that much.”
Rudo turned slowly, as if preparing to face a firing squad.
“Are you stupid?” he snapped. “I thought I made that pretty fucking clear, shitbrains.”
The situation was, objectively, a nightmare. Rudo, Riyo, Zanka, and Jabber were all crammed into a single hotel room.
The reason for this particular form of torture was simple. With Zanka leaving for college in the fall, Gris and Enjin had decided one last family vacation was mandatory. One final chance for “quality bonding time” before another one of their kids flew the nest.
Unfortunately, the hotel had only two rooms available.
Which meant Rudo had been shoved into a room with:
Zanka, his older brother, who either slept until two in the afternoon or woke up before sunrise like a deranged rooster, with absolutely no middle ground.
Riyo, his sister, who was currently eyeing him with the same expression a wolf might wear while considering whether to play with its food before eating it.
And, worst of all, his fuckass brother’s fuckass boyfriend.
Why was Jabber on their family vacation?
Who invited him?
Why had nobody stopped this?
No one knew the answer to any of those questions.
And no one apparently cared either.
“Rudo,” Zanka sighed.
He was leaned against the headboard of the far bed, phone in hand, blue light reflecting off his tired face. He looked like a man already regretting every decision that had led him to this moment.
“Quit complainin’ and lay down. It’s not like we’re gonna start fuckin’ right in front of y’all.”
Jabber immediately perked up, “Well, I mean - ”
Rudo watched in horrified fascination as Zanka launched across the mattress with startling speed and clamped a hand over Jabber’s mouth.
“No,” Zanka said firmly, pinching his lips shut between two fingers. “Zip it.”
Jabber’s eyes sparkled with wicked delight. He said something through the muffled grip that sounded suspiciously like, “Yes, sir.”
Rudo had been trapped in this room for less than five minutes and he already wanted to throw himself off the balcony.
Riyo let out a low whistle. She sat cross-legged on the bed nearest the door, grinning like she’d just been handed front-row tickets to the greatest show on earth.
“Damn,” she said. “He’s got you on a leash.”
Jabber leaned just far enough to escape Zanka’s grip. “Yeah, bro. My collar’s got spikes and shit on it.”
Riyo fell into a fit of laughter so hard she nearly toppled backward onto the mattress.
“Oh,” she wheezed, wiping tears from her eyes. “That explains so much.”
“Can all of you shut the fuck up?” Rudo barked.
Unfortunately, his misery only seemed to invigorate them.
Jabber stretched luxuriously across the bed like a smug, oversized cat, draping one arm over Zanka’s lap as though he owned the place.
“You know if you’re scared, you can sleep with a nightlight.”
“I’m not scared.” Rudo practically growled back.
Riyo raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. “You just begged Dad not to leave.”
Zanka pinched the bridge of his nose, his exhaustion deepening. “Can we not do this all night?”
“No promises,” Riyo said cheerfully.
Zanka exhaled slowly, then looked at Rudo with a hint of sympathy. “Look. Nobody’s gonna mess with you. We’re all just going to sleep.”
Riyo smiled with exaggerated innocence. “Mostly.”
Rudo narrowed his eyes. “And what the hell does that mean?”
“It means,” she said sweetly, “that if you fall asleep first, I’m drawing on your face.”
“I fucking knew it!” He threw his hands into the air completely vindicated.
Jabber sat upright immediately. “Wait, we’re drawing on faces? Why was I not informed?”
“Because,” Zanka said flatly, “you’d draw a dick with shading or some shit.”
Jabber nodded. “Yes. Exactly. Art.”
Zanka shoved him backward with one hand. “Go to sleep.”
Jabber collapsed dramatically onto the pillows, one arm flung over his forehead like a tragic movie star. “Babe,” he moaned, “why you gotta stifle my creative spirit?”
Rudo gagged. Loudly and with feeling.
The air conditioner hummed steadily in the corner. Somewhere out in the hallway, wheels rattled as someone dragged a suitcase past the door. Zanka returned to scrolling on his phone and jabber muttered unwanted commentary to whatever he was watching under his breath. Riyo absently braided and unbraided a strand of hair.
The lights cast a warm yellow glow over the room, making the unfamiliar furniture seem softer but no less threatening.
Rudo turned toward his assigned bed. He approached it with the wary caution of a man stepping onto a minefield.
The comforter was pristine and untouched, but he eyed it with profound suspicion, as though it might conceal snakes, knives, or one of Riyo’s traps.
Slowly, he sat on the edge, the mattress dipped beneath his weight.
Rudo stared at the bedspread and he swore the bed stared back.
This was going to be the longest night of his life.
“Jesus Christ, bro,” Riyo said, glancing over at him from her bed. “It’s a mattress, not a landmine.”
Rudo kept staring at the perfectly innocent hotel bedspread, his eyes narrowed to suspicious slits.
“You don’t know that.”
The sheets were crisp and white, tucked so neatly they looked sterile. The comforter sat smooth and undisturbed, fluffy and harmless by all outward appearances.
Which, to Rudo, only made it more suspicious.
Riyo propped her chin in her hand. “Do you seriously think I rigged the bed?”
Rudo shot her a flat look. “I think you’re capable of many things.”
For a moment, Riyo looked genuinely moved. “That,” she said, voice thick with emotion, “is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Rudo grumbled something under his breath that sounded vaguely like psychotic and finally, with all the enthusiasm of a man climbing into his own grave, slid beneath the blankets.
He kept one eye open on all three of them.
Riyo, still grinning like she was already planning his demise.
Jabber, lounging across Zanka, meanwhile, Zanka, who looked about one inconvenience away from walking into the ocean.
The bedside lamp clicked off and darkness quickly swallowed the room.
Only the dim glow of the digital alarm clock remained, casting soft red numbers across the furniture. Shadows pooled in the corners. The air conditioner hummed steadily, blowing cold air that rustled the curtains near the window.
For about thirty seconds, everything was quiet.
“Zanka,” Jabber whispered.
“No.”
“Can I have a kiss goodnight?”
“No.”
“Can I have two?”
The sharp whump of a pillow colliding with someone’s face echoed through the room.
Rudo yanked his blanket over his head. “I’m going to kill myself.”
“You’re being dramatic,” Zanka muttered.
Rudo poked his head out just enough to glare into the darkness.
“Your boyfriend is a public health hazard,” he whispered-shouted.
Then Jabber’s delighted voice floated across the room. “Aww. I’m growing on him.”
“Yes,” Rudo snapped. “Like a rash. An annoying, gross, itchy rash that won’t go the fuck away.”
Riyo started coughing, wheezing into her pillow while her mattress shook beneath her.
Jabber sounded deeply pleased with himself. “Honestly, that’s the most affection he’s ever shown me.”
“Die.”
“See? We’re at nicknames.”
Eventually, the chaos burned itself out.
The air conditioner droned. Someone outside in the parking lot slammed a car door. Water rushed briefly through the pipes somewhere in the wall.
Minutes passed, ten, maybe more.
The tension slowly drained from Rudo’s shoulders. His breathing evened out.
So far the bed had not exploded, Riyo had not drawn on his face, and Jabber had, miraculously, stopped talking.
For the first time all night, Rudo allowed himself to think — very cautiously, as though the universe might hear him and retaliate — that maybe he was actually going to survive this.
Then, just as the last of the tension began to drain from Rudo’s body, a muffled thump sounded from the adjoining room.
Rudo’s eyes flew open.
He went rigid beneath the blankets, every muscle locking so suddenly it was as if someone had poured concrete into his veins. His breathing stopped. His heart, which had only just settled into a cautious rhythm, kicked violently against his ribs.
For a second, there was nothing.
Then it came again.
A slow, rhythmic creak. A dull, unmistakable bump against the wall directly behind his bed.
The headboard trembled.
Rudo stared at the ceiling.
Very carefully, as though any sudden movement might attract whatever entity lurked beyond the wallpaper, he lowered the blanket from his face.
“Did you hear that?” he whispered.
Across the room, Riyo stirred. Still tangled in her comforter, she cracked one eye open and squinted at him through the darkness. “Hear what?”
Thump.
Creak.
Thump.
Rudo shot upright so fast the sheets twisted around his legs. The color drained from his face in real time.
“Nope,” he breathed, voice thin with panic. “No. Absolutely the fuck not.”
The noises returned, louder this time.
Creak.
Thump.
Creak.
Thump.
Each impact reverberated through the wall at his back, sending a faint shudder through the bedframe.
Rudo turned slowly toward the wall, staring at it as though he expected a skeletal hand to punch through the floral wallpaper and grab him by the throat at any moment.
The noise came again, more distinct this time.
Creak.
Thump.
Creak.
Thump.
Rudo stared at the wall in mounting horror. “Oh my God.”
Jabber lifted his head from Zanka’s shoulder like an excited meerkat. “You hear it too?” he whispered.
Rudo whipped around to face him, eyes huge.
“You knew?”
Jabber’s expression became solemn in a way that was so dramatic it would have been laughable if Rudo hadn’t been seconds from cardiac arrest.
He nodded once. “This place,” he said gravely, “is definitely haunted.”
Zanka, who had already recognized exactly what was happening, let out a long suffering groan. “Jabber,” It was the exhausted tone of someone who already knew he was about to lose control of the situation.
Jabber ignored him completely.
“They say,” he murmured, lowering his voice to an ominous whisper, “the spirit of a lonely hotel guest wanders these halls every night.”
Thump.
Creak.
Thump.
Rudo’s fingers tightened around the blanket until his knuckles went white. He dragged it up to his chest like it might function as armor.
Jabber leaned in closer, shadows carving exaggerated angles across his face. “Some people hear knocking in the walls.”
Thump.
“Some hear strange moaning.”
As if the universe itself had decided to aid and abet him, a muffled sound drifted through the wall.
Rudo made a strangled, high-pitched noise that sounded like his spirit attempting to evacuate his body.
Jabber’s grin widened. “And if you’re real unlucky…” He lowered his voice even further until it was little more than a gleeful hiss.
“The ghost tries to break through.”
A particularly loud bang slammed into the wall.
Rudo screamed.
It was not a dignified scream.
It was the kind of primal, full-throated shriek usually heard moments before someone is dragged into the abyss. Loud enough to wake neighboring guests. Loud enough to make Riyo jerk fully upright. Loud enough that Zanka flinched.
“OH HELL NO!”
Rudo launched out of bed like he had been catapulted. One second he was across the room, and the next he was airborne. He landed on Riyo’s mattress with enough force to nearly send her bouncing onto the floor.
“Move!” he shouted, scrambling over her like a panicked raccoon. “Move over! We’re sharing!”
Riyo’s laughter was cut short by the fact that her younger brother was now clinging to her like a shipwreck survivor.
Jabber folded in half, shaking with silent hysterics. His shoulders convulsed. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.
Zanka seized him by the back of his shirt and yanked him upright. “I told you not to - ”
Another muffled moan floated through the wall. Rudo made a sound of pure despair and buried his face in Riyo’s shoulder.
Riyo’s patience, already hanging by a thread, snapped with an almost audible twang.
With a growl of irritation, she shoved Rudo off her bed with both hands. He tumbled sideways in a tangle of blankets.
Then she sat bolt upright.
Her hair stuck out in every direction. Her eyes blazed with the righteous fury of a woman who had been robbed of sleep one too many times.
“For the love of God!” She jabbed a finger toward Jabber. “The hotel is not haunted!”
Then she pointed accusingly at the source of the noise, voice ringing through the room with all the subtlety of a gunshot.
“That is just Enjin getting railed!”
There was a moment of absolute, stunned stillness.
Realization dawned on Rudo as his soul visibly vacated his body. “No,” he said, “No. No, no, no, no.”
Zanka groaned and threw an arm over his face as if he wished to erase himself from existence.
Rudo pointed accusingly at the wall, his finger trembling with outrage. “They know we’re in here!”
Jabber, naturally, sounded delighted. “Good for them,” he whispered, almost proud.
Rudo whipped around so fast the blanket tangled around his legs. “Good for them?” he hissed. “I can hear them!”
As if the universe itself wanted to emphasize the point, the headboard next door bumped against the wall again.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Rudo made a sound usually reserved for wounded woodland creatures and shoved his face hard into the carpet.
“I’m calling the front desk.”
“You are not calling the front desk on our parents,” Zanka muttered, voice flat with exhausted disbelief.
“Fine,” Rudo said from beneath the blankets. “I’m calling the cops.”
Jabber rolled onto his side, grinning openly in the darkness. “What exactly are you gonna report?”
Rudo glared at him with the fury of a thousand suns. “Emotional terrorism!”
Riyo lost what little self-control she had left and erupted into hysterics, clutching her stomach and kicking her feet against the mattress as she laughed.
From the adjoining room came a burst of muffled laughter, followed immediately by the unmistakable sound of someone being shushed.
Rudo stared at the ceiling. His face was blank, his eyes were dead. He folded his hands over his chest like a corpse being prepared for burial.
“I’m never speaking to either of them again.”
For one glorious second, hope flickered.
Then -
Creeeak.
The bedsprings in the next room groaned again, long and unmistakable.
Rudo screamed into the floor, the sound so raw and offended it barely sounded human.
“This,” he declared to the universe, “This is my villain origin story.”
Riyo was laughing too hard to breathe. Her face was going visibly red without oxygen. She clutched at her stomach, wheezing.
“This explains everything,” Jabber added solemnly, as if offering a serious psychological assessment. “The anger. The paranoia. The trust issues.”
Rudo responded with the only reasonable course of action.
He grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it blindly through the darkness, it sailed in a graceful arc.
And smacked Zanka directly in the side of the head.
“Ow! Fucker!” Zanka shot upright, rubbing his temple and glaring into the dark like an exhausted dragon disturbed from its slumber.
“I swear to God, if any of you hit me again - ”
Thwack.
A second pillow slammed squarely into his face, the impact made his head snap back.
The room fell silent.
Very, very slowly, Zanka lowered the pillow from his face, he turned his head.
Riyo immediately raised both hands in the darkness. “Wasn’t me.”
Rudo peeked out from where he was partially hidden behind Riyo’s bed, eyes wide with exaggerated innocence.
“Huh,” he said. “I wonder who threw that.”
Another pillow launched out of the darkness like a guided missile and it hit Rudo square in the chest.
He let out a shriek that sounded less like a human being and more like an enraged possum cornered in a trash can.
Snatching up another pillow, he hurled it across the room with enough force to knock Jabber flat onto the mattress.
Jabber wheezed as the air left his lungs. “Oh, fuck,” he gasped. “This son of a bitch has chosen death.”
Riyo screamed with delight. Without hesitation, she seized every pillow within arm’s reach and began launching them across the room like artillery shells.
Within seconds, the hotel room descended into absolute chaos.
Pillows flew from every direction.
They ricocheted off headboards, bounced off walls, and struck with soft but deeply satisfying whumps. The pillows, unfortunately, were the dense and indestructible kind hotels seemed to specialize in, so there were no cinematic explosions of feathers.
Zanka made one final attempt to preserve order. “Guys, it is two in the - ”
WHAM.
A pillow slammed into the side of his head hard enough to cut him off mid-sentence.
Rudo stood atop his mattress, pointing accusingly. “Don’t do it.”
Riyo grinned like a maniac. “Join us, brother.”
Jabber, sprawled dramatically across the bed like a battlefield correspondent, raised a pillow like it was a rifle, “Choose your side wisely.”
Zanka exhaled slowly through his nose. Then he reached down and picked up two pillows.
Rudo’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”
Years of surviving one feral younger brother, one chaotic sister, and one aggressively affectionate boyfriend had apparently honed Zanka into a weapon.
The first pillow slammed into Riyo’s stomach, folding her in half with a startled squeak. The second hit Rudo in the chest with enough force to send him stumbling backward into the headboard with a yelp.
Jabber stared, awestruck. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Zanka turned, already raising another pillow. “Shut up and fight me.”
Jabber grinned.
He launched himself onto Zanka’s bed and began raining down strikes with the enthusiasm of a Labrador retriever who had just discovered caffeine.
Riyo abandoned whatever dignity she still possessed and dove across the gap between the beds, tackling Jabber around the waist. The two of them crashed into the next mattress in a heap of tangled limbs, muffled laughter, and shouted obscenities.
Rudo’s eyes lit up.
With the grim determination of a furious warlord, he scrambled onto the dresser, balancing precariously with a pillow raised high above his head.
Zanka glanced up.
For one dramatic moment, Rudo stood silhouetted against the pale moonlight leaking through the curtains, hair sticking up wildly, expression full of righteous vengeance.
Zanka’s eyes widened. “Oh, you little - ”
Rudo launched himself.
He crashed directly into Zanka and Jabber, sending all three sprawling across the bed. The impact shook the entire room hard enough to rattle the lamp on the nightstand.
Riyo collapsed onto the pile a heartbeat later, laughing like a hyena.
For several breathless seconds, there was no discernible order. No one could tell whose elbow was whose. There was only laughter, muffled swearing, and repeated cries of: “Get off me!”
“My hair!”
“That’s my rib!”
“Why are your knees so sharp?!”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Three sharp raps sounded from the adjoining wall.
Everyone froze mid-struggle.
Rudo was draped halfway across Jabber’s torso and sprawled over Zanka’s legs. Riyo’s arm was somehow trapped beneath two bodies. Jabber’s foot hung off the edge of the bed.
From the next room, a muffled voice — very clearly Gris — called through the wall.
“What the hell are y’all doing?”
A moment later, Enjin’s tired voice drifted through the wall, carrying the bone-deep exhaustion of a man who had accepted that this was simply his life now.
“If we get charged for damages, all of you are washing dishes for the next year.”
A brief pause.
“That includes you, Jabber.”
Riyo immediately cupped her hands around her mouth. “Bottoms don’t get opinions!”
A pillow hit her square in the face before she could say anything else.