Page 54 of The Monster of Hotel No. 7
My shoulders are stiff, and my thighs are too. Everywhere along my body, even in the cold of the tunnel, I am drenched in sweat beneath my clothing and my gloves.
But I have taken every small turn possible, trying to remember how to get to the drainage tunnel just beyond the gates of the hotel, all while leading a confusing, winding path so Stein nor his guards can catch us. There have been no more gunshots, no more footsteps or flashlight beams. Only dripping water from the low ceiling and the scurry of rats or worse.
I have gone this path only a few times; I didn’t run during any of them for reasons I am ashamed to admit. It’s been over two years since I’ve been to this hotel and back then, I still held onto the hope I might get Karia to see me in some meaningful way.
If I ran, I knew I would never be able to find her again.
And I meant what I told her. The few times I eventually gathered the courage to try and leave this life behind, the pain I suffered afterward was…immense.
I dart down another sharp left, then a right, the paths beneath this place a bizarre maze I had no hand in constructing. I could have entered Hotel No. 7 from this haunted space, but I worried the leaking water and rat feces might make me unpresentable to her.
As I grip her tighter in my arms, I slow a little in the darkness. My eyes seem to have adjusted so slightly, the way I can make out the clotted shadows of the various doorways, and when I angle my head to face her, I see the blonde of her strands in the gloom.
Her hair is spilling down over my arm, my back, sliding across my chest. Her face is turned toward me, her legs relaxed around my waist.
I have one arm across her back, my other hand cradling her head.
Slowly, in the silence, I dip my chin and let my lips linger on her nose.
I can feel her breaths along my skin, and my own racing pulse beneath it.
Warmth rushes through me that has nothing to do with the journey and my fatigued muscles. With a slow, unsteady hand, I glide my palm along her back, feeling the bones of her spine when I get past the hem of her shirt.
I shouldn’t go lower.
She saved me.
Maybe this is wrong.
But in the chair, she begged me. Taunted me. And I just need to rest.
I stumble back with her in my arms, spine pressed to the damp wall. The moisture seeps through my hoodie and makes my skin crawl. I don’t want to think about what happens after this. If we find a sanctuary to hide in, I have to change clothes or I’ll be repulsive to her, more than I already am. Will there be a place to get something else? I can’t remember the last time I walked into a store. And how do we stay hidden? I don’t know how to drive; I took a train here. She does, I know, but where do we find a vehicle? I have the money I stored in the makeshift safe that was stolen from Haunt Muren in the pockets of my jeans, but not enough for a thing like a running car. And when she comes to, will she remember everything? Midazolam is for sedation, but it also muddles memory. What if she thinks I did this to her? Dragged her to this crypt for no reason? In that way I doubted her, she will do the same to me. We cannot afford to trust one another.
So why bother preserving something that isn’t there?That is the poisoned whisper inside my brain.
I glide my hand lower, feeling my body vibrate each time my heart beats. Over the edge of her skirt, then under the slight curve of her ass. Until…my fingertips press against her bare thigh.
Her skin is frigid, soft and firm all at once. I am digging into her muscle, the way I hold her, and I could inch further center, to the warmth I felt when she was splayed out for me in the chair.
I tilt my head back, hood protecting my hair from the wall.
Every part of me wants to take more of her when she’s like this. She can’t stop me, or shudder from disgust, or cry at how filthy I am.
I shift my fingers slightly, inching closer to parts of her I haven’t touched yet. With my other gloved hand, I massage her scalp, as if it is a consolation. I turn my head and nudge my nose to her own.
“Shh,” I whisper, although she is not stirring. The sedative effect could last anywhere from an hour to six, depending on the dose Stein used. “I won’t hurt you, Karia.” I said that to her before, and I meant it. I even mean it now. I know hurt, and this is not it. “I promise I’ll always keep you so safe, Little Sun.”
I close my eyes in the tunnel. A sound like a hiss from a rat fills my ears, and I stiffen with her in my arms, my nose still pressed along her own.
I don’t inch closer to where I shouldn’t be.
I pretend I am not so monstrous for a moment.
I don’t even know if it’s all that wrong, what I wanted to do, but maybe so.
Regardless, I only hold her tighter, suspended in this limbo of good and evil. But what are those? I do not know anymore the difference between angel and demon.
I catch my breath by inhaling her scent.
