NIGHT OF HORROR

NIGHT OF HORROR

Cassandra rolled her luggage into the hotel's reception area, a warm smile plastered across her oblong face, eyes glinting with infectious happiness. It was the eve of Halloween and she couldn't wait to spend time with her family and little cousins. She had brought her favourite costume and looked forward to wearing it for the occasion. With face beaming uncontrollably, she approached the receptionist and got a key to a room she had reserved earlier on, glad that she was lucky to have found a hotel that wasn't filled up with guests before she had made her reservations.

It was five minutes past ten when she slid the key in and pushed the door open, a creaking sound echoing from the hinges. It was pitch dark inside and she groped the walls to locate a switch, momentarily putting off the darkness. The room was a small sized one with a tiny bed located at the center of it, besides it stood an old bed lamp resting on a double drawer. The walls were painted a dark gray colour, contrasting with the onion-pink curtains that hung on the walls. Above the bed post was an ancient portrait of a lady, face contorted in terror, mouth agape and hands held out as if to intercept an attack. Other than all these, the room looked neat. Cassandra didn't mind at all, she only needed a place to lay her head for the night and the old Victorian home- turned-hotel was just enough. Yawning from exhaustion, she turned the door knob, securing the lock in place, pulled off her shoes and slumped into the tiny bed, her eyes travelling to the photo frame atop her head, before her eyes fluttered close and her breathing evened out.

The tintinnabulation of the grandfather clock woke her up with a sudden startle. The sound ricocheted down the hallway but sounded as if it had rung right in her ears. The time on her phone said twelve am. She had barely slept for two hours and a half, her lids felt heavy. The room temperature started to rise slowly, by now Cassandra had begun to form beads of sweat on her forehead. She reached for the hem of her dress to tug it over her head when the light suddenly went out.

Feeling frustrated enough, she reached out to the bedside drawer to carry her phone when she heard a ruffling sound atop her head, her eyes shot upwards instantaneously and trepidation engulfed her whole being. Was it her eyes or had she imagined it? The portrait seemed to have taken on a more subtle glow. She blinked twice, trying to steady her rugged breathing. She groped more silently for her phone and had just touched it when the widow latch came off and the window flew open with such intensity that elicited a loud scream from her. There was a raw stink in her eyes and her lips trembled softly. A loud rumble followed and lightening flashed simultaneously, increasing the rate of her heartbeat. 

A hissing sound reverberated across the room accompanied by a shuffling sound outside her door. By now she was shaking like a leaf blown by the wind. Tears trickled down her face. This felt surreal, just like in the movies. There was a faint whimpering at the door, she reached for the bedside lamp immediately as another lightening flashed and she thought she had seen a silhouette of a lady at the door. Then it was gone. Crying softly now, she rested her head on her knees muttering a silent plea for the night to birth a new dawn. A hushed whisper of her name jolted her from her crouched position. She held the lamp firmer in her hand and felt a clog in her throat as a new wave of salt water flowed from her eyes. 

Then she saw the figure, it was a lady with parched skin and shriveled fingers. Her face was midnight black with empty sockets where eyes should have been. There was a grotesque scar which ran across her horrid face. Her lips were stained with blood. She was at the foot of the bed, reaching slowly for Cassandra, her voice laced with mocking laughter. She moved slowly towards her and as her shriveled fingers made contact with Cassandra's skin, Cassandra swung the bedside lamp with all her strength as the suppressed scream tore from her throat. There was a loud shattering sound before she blacked out, dead to the night.

A loud banging at the door brought her back to reality five hours later. Her eyes fluttered open and she assessed her surrounding slowly, her mind still blank. It took a while for her to absorb her surrounding. The events of the previous night came rushing back to her. The receptionist's voice outside her door made her believe she was not dreaming, it had actually happened. She sat up with a searing headache as streaks of sunshine filtered into the disarrayed room. It was Halloween morning and she had just escaped a night of horror. She heaved a shaky sigh and stood on wobbled feet. She realized one thing. She was not dead. She had indeed survived.