Auntie's Hotel

Chapter 18 Back to the Beginning

The soft echo of dripping water plunked at a slow pace. Every few seconds, the sound chased itself in the midnight darkness. Each slow and cautious step added to the reminder of how alone he was in this place. He missed the sound of his small town and the ease of its problems.

He reached down to his hip for the first time since finding the little cottage in the middle of nowhere and felt the cold pistol rested at his hip, which reminded him of Billy Ward and Don Cook. Would he be able to save them? Was he even here to save them?

The damp and cold tunnel looked as if it had been carved from the earth long before his arrival. Clumps of dirt had fallen to the ground, leaving evidence of the fact that this tunnel was man made. Beems spanned across the top of the tunnel, which supported the weight of the thickness above. He could not guess what might be above him and know for certain he was right.

He did not know if he was beneath a pond or trees. He wasn't as concerned about what might be above him as he was about where the path led and what might be waiting for him on the other end. What other kind of morbid and deranged beast might be sitting at the exit?

Somehow, he was meant to be the one who would free them. He would be the one to find Don Cook, Billy Ward, Mrs. Ward, and the children. He would rescue them all from the clutches of this insane world and take them away from this place.

Eyes forward... hand on holster, ready to pull his safety blanket from his hip. Officer Brian Jensen moved as quietly as he could manage. He no longer bothered to think what good a gun would do against what he has seen on this long night. He knew he had already come across what might be the Darkness and he does not have any proof that his gun is effective against that. Would it be any better against anything else he might see tonight? Hesitation could mean lives. One of those lives would most likely be his own.

Hope's glow led the way and kept him warm. She said nothing, but connected with him to urge him forward. She worried, but would not allow him to do so. She understood his concerns simply by being with him.

He walked for such a long time that he began to believe there would be no end, but the end was in front of him, lit by a bright orange glow shining through the crack of a door frame. As he came nearer, he could feel heat coming from behind the door. He believed there was a fire beyond the door because of the orange glow and the small amount of heat he could feel, but when he touched the wood door, it was not as warm as he had expected. It was no warmer than any other door he had ever touched.

Placing his ear against it, he listened for what may be on the other side. Clicking and the low hum of what sounded like a furnace covered another thumping sound he couldn't quite make out. He listened for long enough to be satisfied that no one or nothing was on the other side listening for him.

Pressing himself against the wall, he slowly pulled the door so that he could see the brick red walls of the room. The bright orange glow resonated from the enormous fire place in the center. The wood crackled and popped as a small conveyor belt dropped each piece at the top of the fireplace and it thumped against the walls and crashed into the blaze.

Each piece, although slowly placed, spread the burning ashes of the fire onto the dirt floor like lightning bugs in a grass field. Each little orange piece quickly extinguished into its black state, leaving no evidence of its existence other than the dark pieces previously set to rest scattered across the floor. The smell of burnt wood filled his senses, but there stood also the hidden fragrance of something else he could not recognize.

He pulled the door further and it slid with slight protest against the base of the door. The dirt on the ground had risen from the clumps of dirt falling from the ceiling of the path. The issue was only an annoyance as Jensen was able to pry the door and budge it enough to slide through the space he made for himself.