Floor 49

What have I done?

I stood in front of the taunting hotel doors. From beyond the windows, something was stirring. Invisible to the eye, but there nevertheless.

Insanity pierced my skin. It persisted. It was the essence that edged my thoughts away from the light. It grabbed hold of me. Persisting, ever persisting. Little did I know, the moment I entered the abandoned hotel, insanity had already consumed what little life I had left.

I turned on my flashlight. Unrecognizable shadows covered the wall. Light’s conspicuous absence caused my mind to grow sick of the constant suffocating blackness. I took the first step.

The next moment I had gone up ten floors. I kept going.

Floor twenty. Breathing became more difficult. I longed for the crisp autumn air. The wind outside had died down. A faint squeaking of bats was noticeable in the background. I kept going.

Thirty-five. I had developed an unbroken rhythm. I went up and up. Forgetting everything, focusing only on taking one step at a time. The ringing of the churchbells matched the heartbeat of my footsteps.

Forty-nine. I stopped. An abundance of pain overwhelmed me. Only one more floor. I just had to shine the flashlight out the window and I could finally go home.

But inside the hotel, I heard a door shut. I went out of the staircase.

Something was there; out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head. Something slipped into the room at the end of the hallway. I begged myself not to go. But a force pulled me closer, pulled me away from my sanity. In just a moment, I was standing in front of the cracked door. I peered through what I could see. Nothing was there. I opened the door. The first thing I noticed was blood.

Everywhere.

The walls were crying. The blood came down thick and scarlet.

This can’t be real.

Then, I couldn’t hear. I couldn’t see. Everything around me seemed to be closing in. My breathing grew faster and faster until I was gasping for air. But no one was there to help me. All I could feel was pain.

The ringing stopped. I opened my eyes to see no blood. The walls were normal again. All I knew is that I had to get out. I turned around to see that the door was shut. I knew it was locked before I even pulled it.

To my left, I noticed the bathroom door swinging silently open, inviting me inside. To my surprise, no one was there. I glanced in the mirror at my rugged appearance. I took four long, deep breaths in, and held to a count of five before releasing again. Breathe in… breath out.

I looked around with wide, frightened eyes. In the mirror, I saw movement. I shined my light. A young woman appeared behind me. She had hung herself. Her pale face and beady eyes stared back at mine.

I whipped around. No one. I faced the mirror again. She was gone. The noose was still hung on the wall. Blood dripped from the rope. But no woman.

“Join us…” A whisper pleaded. It echoed throughout the strange hotel. In a dark corner of the room, something stirred. There I saw a faint silhouette of some entity. The figure fell to the ground. A cold, calloused hand reached out and grabbed the walls, ripping the wallpaper. It tore, revealing tick marks, counting down the days….

The woman lunged. I screamed. Blood spewed out of her mouth as she screamed with me. I was horrified. I turned around, fully prepared to defend myself. What I realized caused me to fall back in terror. Terror which only came from the fear of the unknown, the fear of losing one’s mind. There was no woman, no noose. The room was as dark and as lonely as ever. The wallpaper hadn’t been torn. I still felt the chilling sense of her presence.

This room was wrong. This hotel was wrong.

“I have to get out of here” I whispered.

There was now a man standing on the open window. His eyes were full of sadness, full of sorrow. Yet his face was overjoyed. He grinned. An evil, monstrous grin. Then, he fell back. Surrendered into the misty air. I drew in a quick breath. I banged on the door. I screamed until my voice gave out. My dry lips pleaded again and again. All hope seemed to have been lost down a deep, endless hole.

I closed my eyes. As I did, I heard a click of a lock. The door swung open. I ran out to greet whoever let me out of this trap. But the neverending hallway was empty.

Without glancing back, I sprinted back to the staircase. I went down. And down. At some point, I stopped, curious about how close I was to escape. I peered at the number engraved above the door.

Floor 49.

No way.

I almost tumbled down the stairs as I ran down to the next level. Floor 49. I ran up, hoping there was some possible explanation.

Floor 49.

I couldn’t believe this.

Then, there came a knock on the door to the hallway.

I opened the door. Beyond, I saw the room I was in. The room I thought I would never have to face again. I entered it again.

Insanity. They say it’s doing the same thing, again and again, and expecting different results. But really it’s knowing that whatever you do, the results will never ever change. Each door leads to the same staircase, to the same number. It's not knowing whether you've been running for days or weeks or years. It's when the sobbing slowly turns into laughter.

I looked inside the room. Nothing was there. I sat down in front of the wallpaper. I tore it back. And carved a single line with my nail.

I wonder how long I will last.