It’s been over three weeks, and I still can’t explain it. But ever since those two nights in the hotel, I’ve had a hard time sleeping.
I double-check the locks before going to bed. I can’t close my eyes without first shutting the closet door. And if I have to get up in the middle of the night, I can’t help myself: I have to take a giant step when I climb out of bed, just in case there are hands reaching from underneath.
All of my childhood nightmares have returned – monsters in the closet, flesh-eating corpses beneath the bed.
It started like this. I had to fly to Dallas to visit a client. The last few times out, I’d stayed at a Courtyard, just a few miles from the office. It was a nice hotel, but a little expensive, and I was looking to save the company a few bucks.
So I checked on Expedia, and found a Best Western offering two nights for one, at only 65 bucks. I’d look really good to my new employer with all the money I would save. It was a bit far from the client, but I had a rental car, so no big deal.
Besides, even if it was a total dump, I only had to stay a few nights. How bad could it be?
I arrived at the client on Monday. It was dark by the time I got out of work, and I drove around for twenty-five minutes or so before I finally found the hotel, right in the middle of a rundown neighborhood that reminded me of downtown Baghdad after Desert Storm.
But the outside of the building didn’t look too bad, and there was plenty of parking, so I grabbed my bags from the trunk and started across the parking lot. At that point, what choice did I have?
It was cold for Texas. The wind was really picking up, and I was looking forward to dinner and a warm bed. But just as I turned the corner to go inside, I noticed something yellow fluttering beneath one of the bushes sitting near the entrance. Curious, I ducked down to investigate; it was a faded strip of crime scene tape, tangled around the base of the shrub.
The lobby was deserted except for an old woman standing at the front desk. I gave her my name and credit card, and while she looked up my reservation, I asked her half-jokingly if they’d had any problems recently.
She froze, and after a moment slowly raised her head and gave me a strange look. “Why do you say that, sir?”
“There’s some police tape, wrapped around one of the bushes out front,” I said, and pointed towards the parking lot.
She shook her head. “No problems, sir. This is a good hotel. Here’s your key, sir. Room 424. Breakfast is at six. Good night,” and she hurriedly shuffled back to the office, closing the door behind her.
As I walked to the elevator, I could smell incense burning. It was coming from behind the counter.
Once upstairs, I unpacked my suitcase, turned on the TV, and ordered a pizza for delivery. As I hung up the phone, I glanced out the window, and noticed for the first time that the parking lot was empty. Aside from my rental car, and what I assumed to be the receptionist’s beat-up Chevy Cavalier, we were the only ones here.
Well, it was cold, I figured, and out of season besides, and I drew the blinds, but not before noticing something strange: caught in the window track was a broken fingernail, and what looked like blood. Yuck.
And just a few minutes later, I heard footsteps rushing down the hall, followed by pounding on my door. That was fast. I grabbed my wallet to pay the pizza guy, but when I got to the door, there was nobody there. What the hell?
I went back inside and called the pizza place, but they told me the guy was just leaving with my order. It must have been kids screwing around in the hallway.
The real pizza guy arrived ten minutes later. When I opened the door, he looked nervous, like he was in a hurry to get out of there. “You look like you saw a ghost,” I said. And then he said something I’ll never forget. “Around this place, is that so strange?”
I handed him a twenty, but before I could pursue his comment, he shoved the money in his front pocket and ran for the exit.
That night, I slept poorly. Several times I heard running water from the room next door, but based on the parking lot, I knew I had to be the only guest in the hotel. Around three in the morning, I was awakened by a loud bang, like a door slamming, and then what sounded like more footsteps running down the hall.
And several times I heard the elevator doors opening and closing, opening and closing, followed by strange laughing. Must be drunks, I thought, and pulled the pillow over my head and tried to sleep.
Morning came early. I showered, got dressed, and went down for breakfast. As I’d suspected, the place was empty. I grabbed some toast and a to-go cup of coffee and started off to the client.
After work, I stopped for dinner before returning to the hotel. I wanted to spend as little time there as possible.
As I walked inside, I noticed the yellow police tape had been cleaned up. I stopped by the reception area to ask about all the noise the night before.
I knocked several times but nobody came, so I stepped behind the counter and peeked in the office.
There against the wall stood a small table, piled high with candles and religious figurines. Hanging overhead was a picture of Mary and Jesus, flanked by a pair of sconces filled with burning incense. The old woman was kneeling before her makeshift shrine, praying, oblivious to my presence.
Maybe she was asking God for a new job in a quieter hotel.
I didn’t want to bother her, so I sneaked out and went upstairs to my room, hopeful that she put those burning candles out before going to bed.
As I slid the key card into the lock, I caught a glimpse of something from the corner of my eye. I turned to see a woman in a long white dress, standing at the end of the hallway. She had her back to me, and was staring out the window. I thought it might be the receptionist so I called out, but as soon as she heard me, she walked towards the elevators and then…just disappeared.
Once in my room, I prepared for bed. I was tired from my poor sleep the night before, and to be honest, was really creeped out by the specter of the woman in the hallway. I just wanted to sleep.
I was brushing my teeth when I heard the knock at my door. As I looked out the peephole, there was an eyeball, staring back at me. Damn kids! I spit out my toothpaste, threw on a pair of pants, and rushed out the door. But the hallway was empty. And as I stepped back into my room, I heard the elevator doors close, and laughing.
That night was much like the night before: footsteps rushing up and down the hall, the elevator doors opening and closing, the sound of running water from the room next to mine.
I considered leaving, but I’d prepaid for three nights and didn’t want to lose my deposit. I finally got to sleep, but around four in the morning, I woke to a strange sound, like rustling fabric.
I opened my eyes to see a woman standing by the foot of my bed, a woman in a long white dress. She stood with her back to me, facing the window. As I watched, she started walking towards the glass. I quickly reached for the light, but when I turned back, she was gone. Impossible.
I packed my suitcase, threw my key card on the reception counter, and checked out early. Screw the deposit, I wasn’t staying another night in that place. I spent the rest of the morning drinking coffee at a local Denny’s, and went to the client’s early.
Since then, I’ve Googled the hotel and the surrounding area, but have found nothing to explain what happened, nor could I find any police reports or news stories explaining the yellow crime scene tape in front of the hotel. Whatever happened there has been covered up.
That, or it was all in my imagination. You decide. All I know for sure is this – next time, I’m staying at the Courtyard. No more haunted hotels for me.
Besides that, they have a good happy hour.