The Chosen

incredible.”

You better keep the speed down, Vera, she warned herself. The cops probably wouldn’t appreciate an out-of-towner using a public highway for your own personal autobahn. She eased off the gas, and let the car wend through the next bends. “Plus, you can borrow it anytime you want,” she added.

“I’m a station wagon kind of gal, Vera,” Donna replied. “I can’t even relate to this. It looks like something in a science fiction book.”

“Speaking of books,” Vera reminded herself, “loan me that book you have about haunted mansions. I could use a laugh.”

Donna, suddenly, seemed to flinch. “The Wroxton Hall part is pretty scary. And gross.”

Vera laughed. “Come on, it’s bunk, Donna.”

“If it’s bunk, why do you want to read it?”

“For my amusement, that’s all. You should’ve heard Kyle, the prick. He tried to freak me out, saying The Inn’s haunted.”

“He wants to freak you out, all right. Out of your clothes. What did he say?”

“Just the same silly crap about The Inn being haunted. Then the asshole actually had the nerve to try and con me into going skinny dipping. Started taking his shirt off right in front of me. I guess he thought I’d swoon once I saw his chest.”

“Well, he is good-looking.”

Vera winced. “I don’t care if he looks like Hulk Hogan, he’s still an asshole.”

“Be honest now, Vera. You’re attracted to him aren’t you?” Donna smiled coyly. “You fantasize about him, don’t you?”

Vera’s amusement over the topic quickly crashed. Fantasize, she thought. What of her fantasy of The Hands, and the lewd dream that always followed? Was she really fantasizing about Kyle? Then Donna said, “But you know, getting back to the story about The Inn being haunted…”

“What?” Vera asked, frowning.

“Well, I’ve been hearing weird things at night, like footsteps out in the hall, and strange noises from downstairs. A lot of times I’ll wake up and feel like someone’s in the bedroom. And then there’s that damn racket from the room-service elevators, the doors opening and closing all night, but the funny thing is that’s all I hear, just the doors opening and closing. I never seem to hear the elevators coming up.”

Vera had heard the doors too, many times. “It’s just some soundproofing fluke. Big deal? And of course you’re going to hear footsteps and other noises at night. It’s Kyle’s room-service crew cleaning up.”

“Yeah? I guess you’re right.” But Donna seemed reluctant. “And I’ve also been having some pretty freaky dreams.”

Vera glanced at her. “What kind of dreams?”

“Nothing specific. I’m walking around somewhere, long dark halls, past rooms I’ve never seen.”

“So? You’re dreaming about a new place, an uncertain experience,” Vera tried to psychologize. “What’s freaky about that?”

“It’s just the way I feel in the dream. I feel almost drunk, entranced. It’s like I’m being summoned somewhere, and it seems really sexual, ’cause all I’m wearing is lingerie.”

“And you’re smoking a cigar too,