Page 106 of The Monster of Hotel No. 7
But I’ve seen her with Von and Cosmo. And while I don’t know Von Bentzen very well, I know enough about Cosmo. I know he wouldn’t have tried very hard with her—not as hard as she deserved for him to try—and she still gave him everything. I don’t want her to do that with anyone else, anymore.
I think about walking into an old hotel, hearing only the creak of the doors before us and silence around us.
I think of putting my hand over her mouth.
I don’t have any syringes, any medication, but there is the Jameson, and there’s my palm on her face, stopping her breath.
I could make her sleep for me.
I could make sure she really never is like this, for anyone else, ever again. But for now, I stay nice.
Chapter39
Karia
“What if we just took a train?” I ask quietly, staring up at the looming building ahead of us. “What if we really disappeared?”
The very first Hotel No. 7 is smaller—but taller—than I imagined. Inside my head it was a fortress, a castle, complete with high stone gates and nearly impossible for us to get to.
But as the hotel emerges on the path ahead of us—a dirt road lined with thick trees, blocking out what little sun there is—I see I was partly incorrect about most of my assumptions.
Sullen doesn’t answer me. He just stares ahead, like he’s enraptured.
There is a high fence around the building and it is made of iron, but the entrance gate is rusted near the top spire—several feet over my head—and it’s ajar, giving us no obstacle to walk inside. The building itself is old dark brick, a dozen or so stories tall with rows of windows along each floor, an archway for the black double doors lined with silver trim. Curtains are drawn in each window, a few panes look worse for wear, dark silver shutters line the first few floors. There is not outright damage to anything I can see, and I crane my neck up, staring at the silver trim lining the roof. A few turrets spaced out along the roofline give it a Gothic feel, but it isn’t a castle. Maybe a cross between a miniature version, and a haunted house.
It’s taller than I expected, and I imagine it took a long time to build, being so far away from the city center.
A simple, circular fountain is beyond the gate, no water running from the stone plinth in the center that’s shaped like a gravestone. Powerful, thick trees flank each side of the building, obscuring any view of the backyard, although it seems this place is set directly in the middle of a forest, and I imagine more woods line the property.
Maude said aLake Vwas nearby, but aside from a feeling of humidity in the air, I can’t tell there is a body of water close, and I certainly can’t see it.
A black placard affixed to a stone post by the gate declares this isHotel No. 7, Alexandria, NC. Welcome to your new night.
“What the fuck does that mean?” I ask quietly, unease prickling at my scalp, but again, Sullen stays quiet.
I turn to glance over my shoulder, wincing in pain as I do, but I still scan the long, meandering drive behind us that Sullen would not give up on even amongst all of my questions of,are you sure this is it?
But there is nothing there save for a whisper of wind floating through the many trees. We cannot see the road from here, and I wonder how much traffic this hotel got whenever it was still operational.
I remember Maude saying it was under custody of the new owners, but when I look once more at the place, I am not sure Stein Rule has visited here in years, which is probably for the best. As it is, I lift my eyes to scan the spires, the corners of the home, even the trees closing in on Sullen and I, but I do not see any cameras.
My heart doesn’t slow down in my chest though, and I don’t think it’s all from the ridiculous amount of walking we did today.
“What is it, exactly, you hope to find here?” I press quietly, thinking of Maude’s stories that serial killers gathered within these walls for dinners. A shiver runs through me and I shift closer to Sullen, my shoulder brushing his elbow.
He is still staring at this place much like he was looking at Maude when she was giving the history of it. Like he will find answers to questions that have tortured him for years on end.
“We can’t take a train. Not yet. They’ll be watching. They know it’s how I got to Alexandria in the first place.” His voice sounds faraway as he speaks.
“How long are we staying, then? What are you looking for?” I reiterate my question.
“I don’t know,” he answers carefully, and it sounds like a lie. He slowly turns to look at me, shouldering the bag of our clothes, clenching his fingers around our shopping tote. “You never told me. If you’re still in pain.” He glances at my shoulder as he speaks.
It seems a strange thing to say right now.
My heart thuds a little faster. “I’m fine,” I lie. It aches. I don’t think the guy dislocated it but if a shoulder sprain is possible, that’s what happened.
Sullen frowns, his dark brows pulling together. “Don’t lie to me, Little Sun. I don’t… like it.”
