The Chosen

Kyle gave him the finger. “See ya tomorrow, Slim,” he said to Lee. “You know, at the Haunted Inn? At the insane asylum just up the road?”

Kyle stormed out, the door banging behind him. The old men were muttering amongst themselves, glaring. The women laughed.

“Hey, I barely know the guy,” Lee explained to the keep, who lumbered away with a grimace. “Your twin brother Kyle was just here,” Lee told Dan B. upon the chef’s return.

“That snide cocker?” Dan B. made a face. “Glad I missed him.”

“He says the reason we’re getting the once-over is because all these people think The Inn is some kind of haunted mansion.”

Dan B. ordered another beer. “Not that crap again. Donna was reading about it in that kooky book of hers. These townspeople got a hard-on for The Inn—it brings back bad memories. You know, all the torture and shit that supposedly went on there, and all this shit about ghosts. These old-timers here? They’re old enough to remember. The book says it was the townspeople themselves that set fire to the place.” Dan B. chuckled. “Can’t say that I blame them. I wouldn’t want a haunted insane asylum in my back yard either. Brings down the property values.” Then he laughed.

Lee laughed too, but only half-heartedly. The old men at the end of the bar continued to stare at them. Ghosts, he thought, looking back into his beer. He didn’t believe in them; the whole thing was silly.

But then he remembered the noises he’d been hearing at night, and he—well—

He couldn’t help but wonder.

««—»»

Vera couldn’t help but wonder. She lay awake in bed, unable to sleep. Too much on my mind. But how much of it was even legitimate? Chief Mulligan’s strange implications, and Feldspar’s even stranger behavior at dinner. Then there was that well-dressed thuggish-looking man who Kyle was checking into a suite close to midnight…

Go to sleep, for God’s sake, she whined at herself. The bedroom’s darkness felt thick with heat. What the hell time does Kyle close room service? she wondered next, noting by her alarm clock that it was now past 3 a.m. She could hear the doors of the RS elevators opening and closing…

thunk-thunk…thunk-thunk…thunk-thunk—

It went on all night now, every night.

Then she heard—

What the… She got out of bed, exasperated. Moonlight tinted the carpet eerily across the room. She padded for the door.

Footsteps, she thought.

Yes, she felt sure this time. She’d heard footsteps out in the hall.

She clicked the bedroom door open, peeked out…

All that lit the hall this late were the little marker lights by the door to each room. She couldn’t see well but well enough:

That maid, she realized.

That chunky woman with bunned hair, the one who never talked. Of course, now that she reminded herself, none of the housekeeping staff ever seemed to utter a word.

Obviously the maid had been coming from the far rooms down the floor. Lee’s room, and Dan B. and Donna’s. Her generic white shoes carried her silently down the hall. What’s she doing up here this late? Vera