Page 112 of The Monster of Hotel No. 7
I step fully into the bathroom, inhaling the steam, dropping my hand from the knob.
My white socks are inches from the red blood, streaked and vibrant.
No.
We should have searched all of this place. We should have been more cautious. We shouldn’t have come here at all.
That feeling of being tricked sneaks up on me again, like it did at the Emporium. I swallow hard, and it’s as if I am walking into a trap with each slow step I take, but I can’t stay away from him. Even if he’s baiting me.
Duplicity.Doubleness, but alsodeceit.
I slowly take another step, glancing at the clean toilet to the left, beyond the door. I inhale the damp air and refuse to look at the blur of my reflection in the fogged-up mirror.
I’m scared of what else I might see.
Sullen still hasn’t moved under the spray of water.
I am trembling, my knees weak, my head swimming.
I slowly turn my head toward the off-white curtain. It’s opaque, and I can see nothing behind it, only the white tiles curving around it before it disappears behind the vinyl.
I look down and note the drug store bag just outside of the tub. A lot of my stuff is gone from it, placed along the sink, so it’s half-empty. But I spot a tube of topical medication I hadn’t noticed before, then the bananas and protein bars.
He must have taken out his soap.
I glance at the silver towel rack and see the bleached-white towelIused hanging to dry from it. More are beneath the sink, but maybe he didn’t know that. Maybe he wanted to use mine. Havemeall over him.
I should say his name.
I don’t want to scare him, but incomprehensible fear lights through me.
I wish he would move. Maybe say my name, even in anger. I want to catch a glimpse of him.
But I don’t see anything.
Not even over the metal bar high above my head.
And all at once, I realize his clothes are gone. I glance to the tote, then over my shoulder at the floor, but there’s nothing. The green travel bag is in the room; I picked my outfit from it before I took my own shower.
Sullen? Is it really you in here?
Maybe he’s wearing his clothes now, though. Maybe he showers with them.
I feel as if I’m falling when I cut my gaze to the white tiles enclosing the space. I can’t see him. His feet, his legs, even a shadow of him, and the stream is still flowing, uninterrupted.
It’s hard to breathe. I want to grab at the curtain, but I don’t want to humiliate him if he is in there, or make him hate me. I should say something, but what if it’s someone else? What if it isn’t Sullen at all?
That’s not possible.I know that to be true.
But I think of the tunnels beneath the newer hotel. The secret rooms no one knows about.
I glance back at the blood on the floor. It’s not a lot; maybe the amount I would have smeared back at the Emporium, crawling through glass. But I don’t remember seeing Sullen injured. He didn’t act like he was hurt, but then again, I don’t think he ever would.
Fear pulls tight under my skin like cement in my veins.
I can’t turn back to the shower. If after all this, something has happened to him, I don’t know what I would do.
Please be okay, Sullen. Please be okay.
