Haunted: A Sentry of Evil Short Story Read online

  Table of Contents

  Haunted

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Discover Amanda Bonilla

  Praise for Amanda Bonilla

  About the Author

  Haunted

  A Sentry of Evil Short Story

  Amanda Bonilla

  This e-book is licensed to you for your personal enjoyment only.

  This e-book may not be sold, shared, or given away.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  HAUNTED: A Sentry of Evil Short Story

  Copyright © 2013, Amanda Bonilla

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  No part of this work may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

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  http://www.nyliterary.com

  One

  “OKAY, LET’S UNPACK the gear and then everyone can get set up in a room.”

  Alyssa Shaw looked around the deserted lobby of the almost century old hotel and wondered if it was too late to turn around and go back to Boise. The Payette Lake Hotel was the subject of an upcoming news story that KLBV was planning to air for a Halloween ratings boost. And she was the unlucky production assistant assigned to accompany the talent and crew for their “haunted house” experience.

  That’d teach her to be late for a production meeting.

  “Aly, let’s make sure that Melinda starts the report here,” Jeff, the producer said, pointing to the front desk. “I’d like to get a shot of her standing at the desk and then walking out from behind it. And for the love of all that is holy, make sure no one dusts a single surface.”

  The onset of an epic sneeze tickled her nose and Alyssa took a couple of deep breaths to stifle it. God forbid she disturb a single dust particle, though they were assaulting her nose and lungs in an invisible hoard of allergens sure to choke the life from her by the time the weekend was over. Blech.

  “What about the rooms?” No way was she going to sleep somewhere that was coated with a hundred years’ worth of grime. “Do you really think Melinda’s going to sleep somewhere that hasn’t been thoroughly sterilized?” At this point, it was better to throw her own concerns off on the talent. Melinda McAvoy was a known germaphobe and major diva. And Jeff knew it.

  “The top floor’s been scrubbed down. The historical society’s tour season ended a couple of months ago, but I hired a cleaning company to take care of the top floor for us so it would be livable.”

  Of course. Jeff thought of everything, including enticing the historical society to let him “help” their fundraising efforts by showcasing the supposed haunted hotel for their news story. Not that Alyssa bought into the whole haunted hotel angle. “Great. Todd has all of the gear for tomorrow’s shoot ready to roll so I’m going to go upstairs and stake a claim.”

  “Leave the suite for Melinda!” Jeff called as Alyssa headed for the stairs.

  As if she’d even consider the possibility of making the Melinda McAvoy sleep in a—gasp!—small room with a standard sized bed. Oh, the horror! She flashed Jeff a thumbs up, totally not the digit she wanted to show him, and continued her climb to the third floor.

  In the light of day, Alyssa couldn’t find a single creepy thing about the hotel, besides the fact that it was a total throwback from the prohibition era and ass-numbingly cold. Then again, it was late-October, and McCall, Idaho was about as warm as a deep freeze this time of year. Did the north wind ever quit blowing? Either way, she doubted chill had little to do with any sort of supernatural presence. If anything, this entire field trip was nothing more than an excuse for Melinda and Jeff to get away for the weekend so they could fuck like bunnies without their respective spouses interfering. Totally more disturbing than the thought of being catapulted across the room by an angry poltergeist.

  Once she reached the third floor landing, Alyssa hung a right and ducked into the first room at the top of the stairs. Why be picky? She just wanted to unload her duffle and laptop and lie down for a few minutes…

  “Alyssa! Where the hell are you? I need someone to grab my bags!”

  A low groan worked its way up Alyssa’s throat and she fell back on the bed, only mildly surprised a cloud of dust didn’t billow from the coverlet. Melinda was early, as was evidenced by the shrill, harpy cry that boomed all the way up to the third floor without the aid of a megaphone.

  “Why, god?” Alyssa stared at the ceiling, a cold lump of despair congealing in her stomach. At twenty five and barely past the intern stage of her career, she knew beggars couldn’t be choosers, but why oh why did she have to work for the mother of all divas? Surely Naomi Campbell’s personal assistants had it easier. She was a production assistant, for crying out loud, but she might as well be Melinda’s bitch the way she treated her.

  “Alyssaaaaaa!” No one could drag out a whiny word quite like Melinda. But as soon as the cameras were on, she turned into an articulate super anchor. Surely her on-air persona could carry bags without turning into a mewling, useless heap of expensive makeup and designer clothes. You’d think she worked for CNN, not the number two Idaho news network.

  “I’m coming,” Alyssa muttered as she rolled off the bed. A cold breeze caressed her cheek and she paused, turning a full circle until her gaze landed on a set of French doors that opened to a small terrace. She crossed the room, the creak of the wood floor beneath her feet more noticeable now in the silence that followed Melinda’s demanding shriek. She pulled the curtains back expecting to find the doors ajar, but they were shut tight. Beyond the hotel grounds, sunlight glistened off the rippled water of Payette Lake, gold ribbons that bounced off its nearly black surface.

  “Aly?” Good lord, now Jeff?

  “I’m coming!” She shouted toward the door. She’d carry Melinda’s bags if she had to, but no way was she turning down the bed for her. This was going to be one hell of a long weekend.

  #

  Alec Bailey stood at the top of the staircase watching the young woman who all but stomped down the stairs with intense curiosity. A memory scratched at the back of his mind, remnants of a life he’d vowed never to think of again. The sense of foreboding that settled in his gut was as unwelcome as the news crew setting up their equipment. He’d resigned himself to his existence a long time ago, and as he watched the woman disappear under the second floor landing, he knew without a doubt that everything was about to change.

  As the caretaker of the hotel, it was his job to make sure that nothing untoward happened on the grounds. One thing was certain, Jacquelyn wouldn’t be happy about the guests. The hunter had enough on her plate dealing with the aftermath of Furies that had recently plagued the town and left too many dead bodies in their wake. Alec knew a thing or two about death. Perhaps it would be wiser not to distract the hunter with such a petty concern. These people would be gone by Sunday. What trouble could they possibly find in two days’ time?

  “We should do them all a favor and kick them out on their sorry asses.”

  One corner of Alec’s lip hitched in a half-smile. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  Sam, his assistant of sorts, nudged him with
an elbow and laughed. “Hell yeah, I would. I don’t want to hang around and clean up after these people. And don’t get all high and mighty on me because I know that you would too.”

  Probably. The one called Jeff was obnoxious and bossy. The type of man who overestimated his importance. And the woman, Melinda, could give the Banshee a run for her money with that shrill voice of hers. Though it would be best to kick them all out on their sorry asses as Sam wanted, Alec found that his curiosity outweighed his caution.

  “Don’t even think about it, buddy.”

  Alec cast a sidelong glance at Sam. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Bullshit. You know exactly what I’m talking about. I saw you checking her out. No fraternizing with the guests, Alec.”

  “Checking her out?” he asked.

  “Go ahead and play dumb. You’re good at it. But your eyes were glued to her ass when she walked down the stairs.”

  Crass. But true. The sway of her hips was hypnotic as she made her way back to the lobby. And Alec wanted to tuck the chin-length locks of her honey blonde hair behind her ear so he could better study her face. He wanted to see more of her. And that was the only reason he would allow them to stay. “No one will be kicked out on their sorry asses,” he said as he turned to face Sam. “I’m going to trust that you’ll conduct yourself with professionalism this weekend.”

  “Oh, sure,” Sam replied. “I plan on staying out of sight. But I’m not what you have to worry about, Alec.”

  True. So it was back to this. Something dangerous and deadly lurked in the forest outside the hotel grounds. He was forced with the choice of alerting the hunter to the news crew’s presence or crossing his fingers and hoping that he could handle matters on his own. “They’re here to find ghosts.” He jerked his chin toward the small group congregated in the lobby. “I don’t think they’ll go out on the grounds.”

  “Ghosts,” Sam replied with a snort. “If they don’t keep their asses inside, ghosts are going to be the least of their worries.”

  “And that’s why you’re going to help me—before you make yourself scarce,” Alec said. “Go out and check all of the gates. Make sure they’re locked and I want all exits besides the east and south doors on the ground floor boarded up. Do you understand?”

  “All right,” Sam replied as though arguing would be futile. “But you’re dumber than I thought you were if you think some boards and a couple of locks are going to keep these people safe.”

  As he headed down the back stairs, Sam whistled to the tune of the Dance Macabre probably for Alec’s benefit. As though his decision to allow these people to stay would be the death of them all.

  “Aly, after you take those up, I have one more load in the car!”

  Alec turned his attention back to the guests. It seemed that this Melinda had only one conversation mode: commanding screech. He stepped back into the shadows, partially obscured by an armoire as the object of his curiosity made her way back to the third floor. Each footfall seemed to echo her annoyance and she muttered under her breath in time with the rhythm she pounded out on the stairs.

  “Is it so hard to call me Alyssa? A-ly-ssa. Come on, Melinda, you read the news for a living. You can exert the energy to finish all three syllables of my name. And holy shit, did you pack bricks in your bags, or what?” She paused on the third to top stair and set one suitcase down so she could brush her hair from her face. Alec took in every detail from her light blue eyes and creamy skin, to the slightly upturned nose and lips that puckered with annoyance.

  He stayed out of sight, but watched as she hoisted the suitcase in her grasp and deposited it at the top of the landing. Then, she pulled out a long extending handle and rolled it behind her down the hallway toward one of the suites.

  “This weekend can’t be over fast enough,” she said to no one as she pushed open the door.

  But Alec disagreed.

  Two

  “OH, GOD, YES! Harder! Harder! Haaaaarder!”

  Alyssa pulled the pillow over her head, desperate to block out the sounds of Jeff and Melinda going at it like a couple of porn stars in the next room. Suffocation would be a welcome alternative to the torture she was being forced to endure.

  “Baby you’re a sex goddess and I’m gonna worship you all weekend long.”

  Ew. Alyssa was totally going to yak. She did not need to hear her boss’s lame attempt at dirty talk. Did they not know that the walls were paper thin in this place? It was built before foam insulation and sound-proofing. She might as well be sitting in the room with them for all of their attempt at discretion. It was totally shameless, not to mention arrogant that they could go at it like that with the confidence that no one on staff would tell their spouses about the affair.

  “Just like that, baby. Just like that. Yeah!”

  So. Gross. How was she supposed to look Jeff in the eye tomorrow morning? And for that matter, could she ever hear Melinda regurgitate the news again without thinking of her ordering Jeff to give it to her harder? This was beyond bad taste. It was downright inhuman.

  Alyssa cringed at the sound of the headboard banging against the wall, each time with more gusto. At this rate, Melinda would have to undergo concussion testing. Maybe Jeff was trying to knock her unconscious so she’d shut up.

  “Talk to me, baby. Tell me how much you like it.”

  Or not. Okay, squick threshold reached. Alyssa couldn’t take another second. She was pretty sure her ears were bleeding and if she didn’t get the hell out of her room and away from the Sextober Fest down the hall, brain damage wouldn’t be far behind.

  “Fuck me like you mean it!”

  Whaaat? Was he currently fucking her like he didn’t mean it? Alyssa jumped out of bed and threw on a pair of jeans. No time to wrestle with her sneakers, she was officially at DEFCON one and slipped her feet into a pair of flip flops. The nearly full moon gave her more than enough light to see where she was going, and she snuck out of her room and high-tailed it for the stairs. She couldn’t get out of there fast enough and though her flip flops didn’t exactly offer her a stealthy escape, she doubted anyone would notice. How could you with the “sex goddess” screaming away in the next room.

  In the near-dark, the hotel finally resembled the haunted legend they’d signed on to visit. Frozen in time, the decor looked like a set from Boardwalk Empire, except for the dust that is. Why Jeff thought the dirt would add to the spooky vibe was beyond her. A sneeze tickled at Alyssa’s nose but she held it back. This place was an allergy sufferer’s worst nightmare.

  Through the lobby, she passed a small dining area. The circular tables were covered with yellowed cloth that she assumed had been white at one time. Chairs were poised for diners to take a seat, and a fireplace with what looked like fresh wood waited to be lit. God forbid someone decide to light a fire in this place. It would go up like a Roman candle. But Alyssa had to admit, it was a beautiful old place, and rather than feel scared, she felt oddly at home despite the spooky vibe.

  A pair of doors led from the dining room to outside and Alyssa crossed to them but they were boarded up and locked down tight. Well, it’s not like she expected the place to be wide open. She could only imagine how susceptible an abandoned property would be to thieves. Really, it was a wonder the place wasn’t trashed and looted.

  The echo of Jeff’s low grunts and Melinda’s high-pitched moans echoed through the hotel, a more sinister sound than any ghost or ghoul could offer. Alyssa backtracked through the lobby and unlocked the main door, regretting the moment she stepped out into the chill fall air that she hadn’t thought to grab a jacket. Her skin tightened with goose bumps and her light t-shirt did little to ward off the cold. But there was no way in hell she was going back upstairs until Jeff and Melinda had screwed one another into unconsciousness. She hugged her arms around her body and headed down the staircase toward the driveway. Sometimes you had to make sacrifices in the name of retaining your sanity. Besides, there were worse things than feelin
g cold.

  #

  Alec watched as Alyssa made her way down the porch stairs and onto the grounds. Rest was an impossibility with all of the commotion on the third floor, but truth be told he was less annoyed with their sport. More to the point, he was…jealous of the raucous lovemaking on spectacle for all to hear. Indecision warred with good sense as he remained a silent observer. The sensation that he knew her, or more to the point, had known her nagged at Alec to the point of distraction. Alyssa hugged her arms tight against her torso as she walked, seemingly unafraid of the dark or what might linger in the shadows untouched by moonlight. It was foolishness borne of the modern world’s disbelief. And it was this faithless skepticism that would get her killed.

  She reached for the gate that opened toward the forest and lifted the latch. In the distance, the trees stirred but not from any wind. And once she stepped from the perimeter of the gate, there would be nothing Alec could do to stop her. Or save her. The rustle of trees grew louder as Alyssa pulled open the gate. She paused and Alec said a silent prayer that she’d reconsider her little outing and go back to bed. He could almost feel the electric charge of anticipation in the air, the bloodlust of the predator that waited for its chance to pounce.

  Damn it.

  His interference would cause problems for both of them. The urge to go her was too strong to resist and he refused to sit by and let her be taken. Alec jumped down from the porch and dug his heels into the ground, running for all that he was worth. Alyssa took a tentative step outside of the gate and he launched himself at her, taking her down before she could take another step. He rolled in midair so as to take the brunt of the impact and she lay on top of him as they landed. A rush of breath left her chest and a startled squeak was all she could muster as a gust of angry wind rushed over them. Alec knew he would pay for his interference but as the warmth of her body penetrated his, he didn’t give a damn.