Pre-elected story. Literature Contest 2010.

The Hotel


Petrone liked the Cervantes hotel for the same reasons that it would be hated by others. It was a gloomy hotel, quiet, almost deserted. Petrone took a room with bathroom on the fourteenth floor. By having a look at the keys hanging from the board at the reception desk, he knew that there were few guests at the hotel.
Petrone was accompanied to his room by the bellboy. On the elevator he smelled a very special scent of jasmine. He looked up and saw that number 13 was missing, and asked the bellboy:
-Why is there no number 13? You are superstitious, right?
-No, sir, but…
- But what? … Petrone realised that something strange might have happened.
On floor fourteenth, Petrone said goodbye to the bellboy as he left the elevator.
The hall had cute armchairs that seemed to be comfortable; the walls were painted in salmon and had paintings on them. The wooden doors had bright numbers on them. There everything was warm and cosy. At the end of the aisle he saw a door and on the door he could read the number 1433, which was his room. He reached the door, opened it, got in, switched on the light, and closed the door. The first thing he saw was the hall, there he left everything he was carrying and began to walk around the room. First he looked over the hall where he was, after that he stepped into the room and finally went to the bathroom.
After having a look at it all, he went back to the hall to pick up all what he had left there but there was nothing there, everything was near the door instead. He was sure that his things had been moved.
After unpacking, he decided to watch T.V. He went to the bar and picked up a bottle of whisky; he prepared himself a whisky on the rocks. He felt surprised seeing how beautiful the city from his window looked. He decided that he should call it a day so he went to sleep. He was sleeping when he suddenly woke up feeling he couldn’t breathe. He tried to open the door but he couldn’t. The phone was dead. He tried to open the window and saw a wall. He decided to jump onto his bed. After a few minutes he began to hear a noise coming from the other room, it was becoming stronger and higher. Angry and confused, he got hold of a chair and threw it into the air. The chair made a small hole into the wall and from that hole a dark liquid began to come out. Petrone got near that liquid, touched it and realized that it was blood. Suddenly the lights went out and the temperature began to drop.
Completely desperate, scared and without knowing what to do, he gave up. With a bottle of whisky in his hand and a blanket he tried to hide in a corner without knowing what to expect. The temperature was lower and lower. He could not stop trembling although he was drinking whisky. He fell asleep without realising.
A strong light awoke him, he rubbed his eyes. When he finally opened them, he saw the room full of light, the sun was shining, the window was open, the birds were singing. When he looked around, he saw that everything was clean and neat; the wall which had been covered in blood the night before was now clear. Surprised, thinking that all had been a nightmare he began to dress up to have his breakfast. When he turned on the T.V., to his surprise he discovered that a whole month had passed from last night.
On a little table he saw a note that read:-“Thank you for your visit. Your grandparents”. He almost fainted; they had been dead for more than ten years.
When he got out of the room, a little bit shocked because of what had happened, he saw that he was on the thirteenth floor, but what scared him the most was that that floor did not exist.

Pen name: Johnny Quid
Category B