57 -The Hotel at the End of the Line

By Justin Irabor

06 August 2016

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Haven’t you heard?
I’m shocked that you haven’t - you’ve been here for so long. This town is not large enough to host secrets besides, if only you’ve ever taken a long enough walk, you would have seen it too.
Seen what you ask?
The hotel of course! Although, to be fair, it is more ramshackle than it is liveable. They say it is the first and last thing most visitors see of our quaint town. It follows the dusty road as it exits our community, even farther than Iya Sharifat’s lodgings. I hear no one in town knows when it was built, or by whom. However many quite agree, that it had to have been built on a tomb.
You don’t believe me?
Well, once there was a group of students on their way to some academic function, who lost their way and thought to camp there for a while. What little is known of this sordid tale, was sputtered by the barely surviving few. They sauntered inside the lot of them, and fought to leave alive. It’s a true story I swear, I have no use for lies.
So into the hotel they went, their spirits soaring high, as rowdy as any teenage crowd. They told jokes and made lively banter; they had no idea you see. Oh, if only they had made it far enough, any number of us would have given them fair warning. But no, they chose instead the comfort of an establishment whose workers they didn’t see; couldn’t see.
You don’t believe in ghosts?
Just as well. These aren’t ghost you see, but something more spiritual. These mischievous beings joy in deathly games, gambling with the lives of their victims. And there are no set criteria to win, only luck, or fate; and do not claim that you do not believe in either. You see, this is nothing compared to anything even remotely natural. This is nothing compared to anything you have ever seen or believed possible for that matter.
The students?
They lived of course, those of them that lived. These spiritual beings toyed with their heads, made them choose which of their friends got to live and who died, for days on end. They would force them to solve riddles and guess dices. They would spin coins to determine whose life should hang in the balance, but often times; a terribly fatigued friend would fall and die. It’s all a game you see, until you lose your life. And these ones that lived, swore by the powers that be, that one should never think to play a “Knock, knock” game with these beings. The end of this game they revealed is most assuredly, sudden death.
Shhh, come closer. It has been whispered once or twice, that those who survived, had to have done so by feeding on their fallen friends. Of course, I neither confirm nor disprove this claim.
Oh do not look so sceptical…
You may yet not believe in superstition or ghosts or higher spiritualties, but surely, you value your life much more than you have let on? Or do you intend to confirm for yourself the manifestation of this tale?
Where is this place?
Well, isn’t that quite obvious? It’s here, oh pitiful stranger, this very same hotel; The Hotel at The End of The Line! And now I’m afraid, begins the fight for your life.
Knock, knock?
- Written by *MeL *

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