THE HOTEL
a short story by Tim Strong
a short story by Tim Strong
Introduction
Miles had grown exhausted over the past few months. Everything in his life felt like it had been lifted out of his reach and begun spinning like a unrelenting tornado, with the eye of the storm that he occupied getting smaller and smaller as things that used to bring him enjoyment turned to nothing but problems and closed in on him. He had grown uncertain and worried over just about everything his rattled mind landed on, all but one: something needed to change, and fast.
“I need a break” – he said to himself quietly.
Closing the report he’d been working on for the past two days, he started going through potential holiday destinations. Scrolling past places he’d already been and those that seemed too cliché, he stumbled upon something that caught his attention: an advertisement for a hotel a couple of hours’ train journey from where he lived that was described as “the very best of relaxing experiences”. “Well this seems way too well-placed to be true,” – Miles thought to himself. Still, his curiosity got the better of him, and he clicked to see what it was all about. To his surprise, he found himself really liking the photos that came with the ad – everything seemed very well-equipped, and it did actually look very relaxing. The reviews were amazing, too, and looked like actual people had left them, which was far from always the case with these places. Could this actually be the perfect spot for him?
“Screw it, what do I have to lose? Worst comes to worst, at least it will be a change of pace for a bit” – he thought, before clicking on “book your stay”.
While making his reservation, Miles noticed that the website had no form to fill in the date of the end of your stay. “Must be a mistake” – he thought to himself, and dialed the number for customer support. A young man’s voice answered:
“The Mountain Hotel, how can I help you?”
“Good morning! I wanted to ask you a question about your website here,” – Miles replied. “I’m making a reservation here, but there’s no form to input the end date of my stay.”
“Oh! Yes, I’m sorry sir, that’s an error on the website, we’re working on fixing that at the moment. For the moment, you can make your reservation, and we’ll take a departure date and the payment from you when you check in. Will that be alright, sir?” – the man said.
“Okay, I’ll make my reservation then, thank you,” – Miles responded.
“No problem, sir. We look forward to seeing you here!” – the man said.
“Yes, I look forward to my stay” – Miles said, and hung up. He made the reservation, and went back to his work, willing the day of his long-awaited break to come as soon as possible.
On the eve of the start of his break, he packed a suitcase and a backpack and went to sleep early, just so the morning would come faster, because the time had been going so slowly leading up to this day. He woke up early, showered, picked up his bags and headed for the train station. As he looked out of the train window over the empty, downtrodden winter countryside, Miles thought to himself about how similar his life had become to it: lost all the color, beaten down and faded. And then he thought how much that was going to change in the next few days. Finally, his life was hopefully about to change for the better. He could not wait. He closed his eyes and drank in the picture his imagination was creating of this paradise of relaxation where he could regroup and get a smile back on his weary face: there he was, lying back in a hot tub, a tall glass in his hand, drinking the sweet cocktail as he enjoyed the warmth enveloping his body. What an image. He opened his eyes and thanked his lucky stars that it was soon to become reality.
I
Miles turned a corner, the wheels of his suitcase bouncing slightly on the uneven pavement, and The Mountain Hotel came into view at last. It really did look like a mountain – it was a tall, triangular building with a roof going up on one side, made from somewhat faded orange-brown brick. He slowly walked up to the automatic doors, which slid open, allowing him to make his way into the entrance hall.
It was an impressive entrance – a huge white hall with a high ceiling, slick, modern features, with staircases and elevators alike leading off to other parts of the building. In the middle of it all was the reception, which Miles approached briskly.
A young man greeted him there – his voice was immediately recognizable from the phone call Miles had made to the hotel earlier:
“Good afternoon sir! Do you have a reservation with us?”
“Good afternoon. Yes, I do. It’s for Miles–” – Miles began to answer.
“Yes, I see that right here,” – the receptionist said, cutting him off. “You’ll be staying in room 338. Let me just sort some things out here for you. You requested the full meal plan, correct?”
“Yes, I did,” – Miles replied, a little disgruntled at being interrupted. The receptionist just nodded without looking away from his screen and continued:
“Great. You will find your meal hours in your room. Please try to stick to those hours because we’re quite busy at the moment and unfortunately the hotel cafeteria expansion hasn’t been completed yet so we can’t accommodate everyone at once. Try to stay out of the cafeteria outside of your hours so as not to create unnecessary crowding. Here’s your key card, sir!”
Upon saying this, the receptionist finally looked up at Miles and handed him a plain white key card, which he took and put into his pocket.
“Thank you. Which room did you say it was again?” – he said.
“It’s number 338, sir,” – the receptionist replied.
“Oh yeah, thanks.”
“Of course, sir. Have a pleasant stay!” – the receptionist said, smiling.
A pleasant stay…wait. That reminded him.
“I’m sorry, sir. You didn’t ask me how long I’d be staying for, did you? You told me over the phone that we’d settle that when I got here,” – Miles asked.
The receptionist had been turning to face Miles upon hearing him call on him again, but upon hearing what he had asked, all of a sudden, he froze. The welcoming smile vanished from his face, and was replaced by a blank, empty stare. For a split second, Miles saw this, and started to back away in fear, when, all of a sudden, a deafening buzzing noise came out of nowhere. It was so loud, but yet it didn’t feel like it was playing in the hall – it felt as though it was playing directly in Miles’ own ears. He screamed out and tried to cover his ears, gritting his teeth and from the pain of the noise bearing down on him. He began blinking rapidly, trying to distract himself, drown it out, but it wouldn’t stop. He could feel his grip on the room around him loosening, and the noise slowly got quieter and quieter as his consciousness faded. Eventually, Miles felt himself passing out, and everything faded to black.
II
Miles sat up groggily, rubbing his head. Why was he in a bed? How did he end up here? He looked around the room he was in: it was quite plain – everything was white, from the walls and ceiling to the desk to the wardrobe. He also saw that his suitcase and backpack were both next to the desk. How did they get there? Miles scrambled his brain to try and remember, but the last thing he could recall was checking in. He checked his watch. The time was 13:30, three hours after he’d come in.
“Wow, I’ve been out for a while…” – he said to himself. The stress of his life lately must’ve finally made him black out. At least he was finally somewhere where he could relieve all of that. Finding out how long he’d agreed on staying for would be useful though.
Miles gingerly got up onto his feet and headed for the door. On his way out, he paused to look at the sign hanging by the entrance. It had a map of the hotel and the floor layout, and also read:
“CAFETERIA ACCESS HOURS:
EVEN ROOM NUMBERS: 10:30-12:00; 14:30-16:00; 18:30-20:00
ODD ROOM NUMBERS: 8:30-10:00; 12:30-14:00; 20:30-22:00
PLEASE FOLLOW THESE SCHEDULES TO AVOID CONGESTION.”
Miles noticed an elevator very close by that lead down to reception through the cafeteria as he studied the map. Looking back at the message about the access hours, he muttered to himself: “Well, I’m sure if I just sneak by and go to reception I won’t get in anyone’s way”.
He grabbed his key card, turned and walked out of his room, the door swinging shut behind him.
As he emerged from the elevator and walked out onto the staircase that lead down into the cafeteria, Miles was very surprised to find an entire section of the room completely empty: identical white tables stood in neat, even rows, completely deserted; not a person in sight at a single one of them.
“I thought this place was supposed to be packed…” – Miles said under his breath. “But there’s all these empty–”
His voice trailed off as he froze on the spot. The rest of the cafeteria had come into view, and what was revealed filled Miles with equal parts bewilderment and terror: the tables in that part of the room were all lined with what could be mistaken for regular people. They only seemed to be regular people, however, Miles observed, as he crouched behind the staircase, trying his best to stay out of sight: their faces were…gone! Each person had a strange, glowing grey blur where their face should have been. They were all sitting in identical positions at even intervals at five or six tables in total, eerie silence. As Miles looked closer, he also noticed that the food on their plates was just…disappearing. One second something would be there, the next it would just vanish. And the disappearance of each piece of food happened in perfect synchronicity between each person at each table. What in the world had Miles stumbled into? He suspected that he didn’t want to stick around to find out. All thought of going to talk to the receptionist abandoned, he darted back up the stairs, praying the strange creatures hadn’t noticed him, and ran into the elevator, before smashing the button for the third floor and pressing the button for the doors to close time and time again, as if willing it to work faster. When the doors did close, and the elevator began moving, Miles sighed in relief and leant back against the wall, trying to catch his breath. All of a sudden, an oddly familiar feeling rolled over him. A faint, but painful buzzing noise filled the inside of his head, slowly gaining in volume and power, ripping his very mind apart from within. Miles screamed out, grabbing his head and trying to drown out the pain, but, just like the first time, which he recalled all of a sudden, it was all fruitless. Once again, he began to feel his consciousness fade, and his vision went dark.
III
Miles woke again in the bed in his room. How on Earth he got back there, he didn’t know. But he had more pressing matters to attend to – what where those creatures in the cafeteria? Were they people? What had happened to them? Slowly, pensively, he rose from his bed, and began walking towards the door, when, all of a sudden, he thought he saw something as he walked past the mirror. He stopped and turned to look, and, sure enough – his chin was obscured by the same grey, glowing matter that he’d seen on those people. Eyes going wide with fear, Miles tried to touch the covered area, but, to his shock, he couldn’t – his fingers just stopped at where the blur started. “I have a feeling it definitely won’t stop there” – he thought to himself. “I’ve got to get out of here, fast!” He rushed out of the room and out into the hauntingly empty white hallway. Were there more of them in the rooms around his? What did it even matter, he needed to leave as quickly as he could. Miles turned left and ran as fast as he could down the hall, coming to the next turn and taking it, as this is where the map said the fastest route to the exit lay. All of a sudden, he reached a dead end ahead and another turn that he didn’t remember seeing. He took it anyway and kept running, when all of a sudden he noticed a familiar set of numbers. 338. He had somehow arrived back at his own room! How was this even possible?! He leaned back against the cold, unfriendly white door, panting. What if he tried going in the other direction? “Maybe there was a turn I missed, or maybe going right is just better than going left somehow in this weird place…” – he thought.
And so he set off again, this time starting by going right instead of left. However, there was no secret turn that way either, and soon enough he was once again getting his breath back up against the door of his room. There couldn’t be absolutely no way out, could there? Maybe he’d find something if he went slower, Miles thought. So he set off left again, and soon reached the turn he’d taken earlier. However, instead of turning, he stopped and looked ahead, to the end of the hall, where a window beckoned with the all-too-welcome sight of the out-of-reach outside world. Something seemed off about the end of the hallway. What if it…wasn’t the end at all? Miles walked past the turn and made his way down the rest of the hall, and sure enough, there was a little cavity between the window and the wall, with what seemed to be a little bit of a door visible at the end. Miles carefully squeezed into the gap and began inching cautiously towards the hidden door. As he got closer, the passageway slowly began to grow wider. As he reached the door, it opened out into a little chamber. He reached forward and tried to push the door open.
As soon as Miles’ skin made contact with the door, the now all-too-familiar piercing buzzing invaded his head once again. As much as he tried to hold on to his senses and stay awake, he wasn’t strong enough, and soon enough, his eyes had treacherously shut once again.
IV
Miles woke up in his bed. Something didn’t feel right. He rushed to the mirror, only to see his mouth had been consumed by the blur. At first, this scared him, but as he stood there, looking at the grey, glowing cloud where his mouth used to be, his determination to escape this hell only grew. There had to be some way to open that door.
He made his way back down the hall, and back down the narrow passage. The door stood before him once again, so tempting, but so dangerous.
“What if I try with my shoulder?” – Miles thought. He took as much of a step back as he could in the confined space, and then charged the door. As soon as his shoulder touched the door, however, to his anger and dismay, the noises came back again. Clutching once again at his head, Miles fell to the ground, banging his feet on the ground in desperation. He took longer to pass out this time, but it was still inevitable. Once again, everything faded away.
V
The same bed again. His head was beginning to ache from all the resets. To make matters worse, he noticed that his nose had now disappeared from view. He went to the mirror to look at what was left of his face. This was it then – if he failed one more time, his eyes would be covered, and that would surely be the end of him – he’d become just like those people in the cafeteria. He stood there, looking at the blur that now covered half of his face. Something was weirdly entrancing about it…no, he had a task to concentrate on. How could he build distance between himself and the door? What if…
His eyes lit up as an idea hit him all of a sudden. He went to his suitcase and opened it up. Everything inside was secured pretty tightly – this could work. He closed it again and, dragging it behind him, made his way yet again out of the room. When he reached the passageway again, he unzipped his suitcase vertically, as it stood. It wouldn’t fit through the door closed – but open, both sides were narrow enough to make it through. His plan was working perfectly so far. Pushing the suitcase ahead of him, Miles inched through the passageway. Back in front of the door again, he closed his suitcase again, before lining it up an inch or so from the door. Just like the previous time, Miles stepped back as far as he could, then jumped forward a little and, for all he was worth, aimed a ferocious, desperate kick at the case.
To Miles, it was as if everything in that moment moved in slow motion: his leg extended towards the suitcase, his pulse hammering in his temples. Then his foot made contact with the side of the case, and, as it began to dent slightly, the case rocketed forward and made contact with the door. Miles waited for the buzzing, but…it didn’t come! As Miles’ foot went clean through the side of the suitcase, it cannoned into the door, causing it to burst open.
Miles regained his balance as his suitcase hit the ground with a thud. He pulled a shard of the case out of the fabric of his jeans, then looked up towards what had opened up to him: a staircase going down. This could be his escape route. Without a second thought, Miles darted through the door, jumping over his suitcase and making his way onto the staircase. As soon as he did this, though, a red light blinked over the stairs, and a siren began wailing. Miles noticed that the blur over his nose had turned from its earlier glowing grey to the same raging red as the light. He suspected he knew what this meant. He doubled back to his broken suitcase, opened it hurriedly and pulled out the heaviest object close at hand – a thick book he’d brought with him to catch up on. He ran as fast as he could down the stairs, clutching the book tightly. One floor down…two...what?! The staircase treacherously came to an end at the first floor, still leaving Miles separated from the ground floor and his way out. He would still break his legs if he jumped from here…he’d have to make his way out somehow.
Miles approached the door leading out of the stairwell. He stopped and peered into the tiny space between the door and the floor. He already had company. How much company? Who knew. However many people there might have been behind that door, he needed to make it to that front door no matter what. Miles took a deep breath and, with all the strength in his body, amplified a hundredfold by his will to survive, kicked out at the door, sending it flying not only open, but off of its hinges, knocking at least five people to the floor beneath it. As Miles burst through the doorway, two more people with their faces covered by the angry red blur rushed towards him, their arms outstretched towards him. Miles raised the book and swung at one head, then the other; both times, the book connected with a loud thud, and the figures fell to the ground. As he turned the corner, door after door along the hall he entered opened. More and more people got between him and the all-too-familiar staircase down to the cafeteria. Funny how things turn out – earlier, he had run away from it, and now it was his path to salvation.
Miles sized up his options, eyeing the crowd coming ever closer. It seemed as though the desperate nature of his situation had flipped a switch in his head – he felt invincible. Every move had suddenly become clear. He ducked quickly to the floor, leaving a leg out and swinging to take out three attackers. As more turned around, momentarily stumped by his duck down, he swung his trusty hardcover weapon, slamming it into one after another. Feeling hands connect with his back, he swung his leg backwards forcefully, and the hands quickly let go; in a frenzied haze, he dispatched one opponent after the next, putting the average action hero to shame as he made his way towards the all-important staircase.
Kicking with all of his strength into the stomach of the last of the blurred ones blocking his way and sending him flying down the stairs, Miles followed in the same direction, jumping over his incapacitated opponent and rushed out of the cafeteria and back into the entrance hall where it all began. He ran for all he was worth towards the door, which he didn’t even stop at to see if it would open, instead hurling the heavy book at it with all the strength he could muster on the go and running through the now empty frame, stepping over the shattered glass and the book and out into the open again. He ran a little further, then fell to the floor, out of strength, and looked back.
To his surprise and relief, the blurred ones following him didn’t follow; instead, upon crossing the threshold, they crumpled on the ground. Miles sighed. He was finally free.
VI
As he stood up, Miles finally began to focus on what was around him. Something was strange…this wasn’t the street he had come in from. He looked up at the sky. Was that…a dome? “Now what’s going on?!” – he thought to himself, exasperated. He closed his eyes and shook his head, before looking around again. Everything was back to normal. “Must’ve started seeing things after all of that” – he thought.
And then. All of a sudden…a familiar noise. Loud, insistent buzzing. Right inside his head…
Everything faded to black.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This story was something that came to me very spontaneously, somewhat inspired by the appearance of the dormitory I live in right now (though our conditions here are far less dystopian of course). It's not like things I've worked on in the past, and probably not like things I'll work on in the future - but it's still something I'm proud of. I hope you enjoyed it!
Tim