*GPS: Rerouting* Clouds massed in the sky. The man sat on the side of the road, pinching the bridge of his nose. The darkness had caught up with him in his attempt to take a shortcut through the mountains. Lost and late for his appointment, he decided to look for a place to stay overnight and continue in the morning, but where in the world was he. He looked out the dust-streaked windshield, gazing at the dark winding road ahead. Pulling back onto the road, he decided to drive down a bit more, and to his surprise, just off the road to the right, he spotted a dilapidated house with a dim light. Once he got closer, he saw a sign that he was able to make out, “Watchers Bed & Breakfast,” and just under that, the address: 66 Winding Road, with a red neon vacancy sign that kept flickering from “no vacancy” to “vacancy.” Pausing, he looked around the vicinity, and to his discovery, this was the only sign of life in the area. He went to look up the reviews on his phone, ‘dead battery.’ He threw his head back on the headrest, figures, he said. He looked back at the house with disdain as the moonlight was now casting a ghoulish glow on the house. Grabbing his bag, he decided to go in; at this point, he had no other options. He started up the old wooden stairs that creaked under the pressure of his weight. Suddenly the door swung open just as he reached for the doorknob. An older woman stood there smiling at him. Welcome to Watchers Bed & Breakfast; please come in.
"Yes, Hi, I seem to have gotten lost and just need a room for the night," the man said. "I will be on my way in the morning." "Well, you're in luck, my good sir," the old wrinkly woman replied. "We have a plethora of rooms available, and I have the perfect one for a weary traveler, such as yourself." She opened her dusty sign-in book to write down his name. "Room 6 could use your presence." The man looked at her with one eyebrow raised; she coughed and corrected herself, "my apologies she said; what I meant was, it has been such a long time since I've had a guest, and that room has not felt the company of another human being in quite some time. It could use a stranger's love as it has so much to give itself." She smiled as she dropped the key into his hand. If you would follow me, the man interrupted, "actually, if you could just show me the way, I'm sure I can find it on my own." The older woman pointed down the hall as she gave him careful instructions. "Please try not to wander, this ancient house is a maze, and we wouldn't want you getting lost." "We do have a few other guests staying with us, just in case you hear any other noises." the Other guest, the man thought, "but I thought you said that you haven't had a guest in a while? He turned to the woman, but she had made her way back down the hall and cleared the corner.
Turning back around to make his way to the room, he was met with a long, seemingly endless hallway that dead-ended and split off to the right. Not much light lit the way, but somehow, he could still see the area around him. A sudden chill swept through his bones. He thought, “how was it colder inside than it was out”? Shaking it off, he proceeded to walk as he glanced from side to side, taking in the mothball scent that seeped through the walls.
Continuing down the hall, he rounded the corner. Pausing in the hallway, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. But after a quick turnaround to examine the hall, he was still alone. He finally reached his door and stepped inside. The room in no way had any special features. It consisted of a huge bay window, a 19th-century king-size bed, a rusty corner lamp, a wooden floor with a layer of dust resting on it, and a web in every corner possible. The man sat on the bed, exhausted from the travel. He decided to freshen up before turning in. He was expecting to hear noises of some kind, being told that he was not the only guest there, but there was an eerie quiet that hung bout the old house, but to him, it would make for a great night of sleep.
While handling his nightly business in the bathroom, he heard footsteps running across the floor in the other room with a burst of gentle laughter. Peeking out from the bathroom, he didn’t see anything. He heard the same footsteps running by his door again, this time from the outside. He looked out the peephole, and again, he saw nothing. Turning his attention back inside the room, he felt a presence in the bedroom that wasn’t there before. He glanced over at the bed after noticing an indent on his side as if someone was sitting there waiting for him. Frozen with fear, he slowly found the courage to make his way over to that side of the bed. He gradually moved to the spot, hoping it was an illusion or a trick of the eyes playing with his exhaustion. When he approached the place on the bed, he stuck his arm out and waved it in that general area as if someone was feeling their way through the dark. “I’ve lost it,” he thought. Finishing up in the bathroom, he returned to the bed to call it a night. It was then that he noticed the indentation from before had moved to the other side of the bed. This time he decided not to investigate and hopped right in the bed with no questions asked. There was, of course, nothing there, and that’s all that mattered to him.
3:00AM: The man's eyes shot open. He sat up in bed with the most uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He tried to shake the notion that he was not alone, yet again. The room was dark, and the moonlight had managed to peek through the ratty curtains in his room. As he continued to sit there, he allowed his eyes to wander the room. He scanned the room for anything that may give him answers to his uneasiness. His search ended when his eyes landed at the foot of his bed. He switched on the lamp on the nightstand beside him. There it was again. The same hollow indent as before, as if someone was sitting there. The feeling of being watched washed over him. Just as he had the fleeting thought, the indention began to fade, as if someone was starting to stand up very slowly. His breathing was more rapid now. The old floor started creaking. Those footsteps, he had heard them before, earlier. He followed the sound of the footsteps with his eyes over to the corner, where an old chair was. He continued to sit there, catatonic, not knowing what to do. Was this happening? Was he dreaming, he thought?
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow move against the wall. He attempted to swallow, but his mouth was dryer than the Sahara. He closed his eyes with the intent of making it all go away. He was still asleep. That’s what it was. He had let the old house get to him, and it followed him into his dreams. Opening his eyes, he noticed the shadow had stopped moving. The shadow was now painted on the wall so clearly. As he continued to sit there in silence, seconds turned to minutes, which felt like hours. The man slapped himself as he began to do some self-talk. ‘Wake up, wake up now. Out of the shadow, a deep evil laugh began to grow. The shadow appeared to peel itself from the wall and moved in closer. His shadowy hand takes shape from out of the shadow. Seemingly reaching for him, he could do nothing but watch in dread and shock. He could hear whispers but couldn’t make out what it was saying. He could hear it breathing; it was so close. Then all of a sudden, the shadow rippled and vanished.
He started to feel an agonizing pain in his stomach. Twisting and turning, causing him to fall back onto his pillow, and just as he opened his mouth to yell for help, he felt a presence jump on top of him, pushing him into the bed with great force. His chest began to tighten. It felt as if a twenty-pound weight was being forced onto his chest. It prevented him from sitting up, and not only that, but his whole body had become paralyzed. His eyes widened as he tried to fight back but to no avail. The only thing that had not failed him were his eyes. They dashed around the room to see what was causing this. Who or what was doing this to him? The more he struggled, the more he felt like he couldn’t breathe. His eyes locked on to a pair of black beady eyes staring back at him as he lay there. A murky shadow began to form around the eyes, swirling, taking shape. With the figure finally revealed, he now knew what the pressure was he was feeling. This thing was now resting on his chest with such force. The shadowy creature began caressing his face as it continued whispering. In and out of consciousness, he faded. Each time he came to, the struggle continued, and each time the whispering grew louder and was followed by laughter. ‘That wrong turn you took will cost you…’ he made out in the last whisper.
‘WE are hungry, the creature proclaimed, and WE have not eaten in such a long time. The man’s eyes grew wider. Still barely able to breathe, he continued to try to get loose. His eyes darted around the room in an attempt to find some help or relief. The only thing he saw was another indentation in the bed on the left side of him, and out of nowhere, another shadowy figure began to make itself visible as it sat on the bed, staring at him. Then another appeared on the chair in the corner, laughing like a hyena laugh while making itself noticeable. Then another. Panic set in when the man figured out why he never felt alone in the room. He could hear the creature on top of him breathing. He could feel the warm, stale air hitting his face. When he slowly rolled his eyes to the side, he saw another shadowy face grinning and staring at him. He began hearing inaudible whispers all around the room in both ears; a tear began to run down his face. ‘WE begged the old lady to give you this room. We have been watching you ever since you parked out front. We could see you; we could damn near taste you as the creature opened his mouth to allow his long serpent-like tongue to roll out. You see, we wait here for lost, weary travelers such as yourself; it’s our job. You poor pitiful unfortunate soul, you looked so heavy and burdened. Consider yourself blessed to have checked in here. We will take all of that away for you, he roared.
The man sprang up to catch his breath, choking and gagging; he jumped from the bed, grabbed his bag, and immediately bolted out of the room. He had no intentions of looking back or returning for anything that he had left. Still, in the clothes he laid down in, he ran down the hall, turned the corner, and headed straight for the front door. He saw the front desk where he had checked in, but no old lady. It didn’t matter; he had no plans to tell her he was checking out. He could see his car in the lot from the side window beside the front door. He could taste the relief and started basking in it. He grabbed the doorknob, flung the door open, and closed it behind him. “Oh my God,” he thought…as his eyes were met by the elderly woman that stood there smiling at him.
Welcome to Watchers Bed & Breakfast; please come in, come in.
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