The Halloween House

The Halloween Hotel: Join us, if you dare….

“This sounds lame.” Casey groaned. “The Halloween Hotel? Couldn’t they at least think of a better name for this gimmick? Ugh.”

“Maybe you should have pitched them your marketing services.” Erica grinned. “I know you would have come up with a great name. But names aside, read the history. Some serial killer holed himself up in this house in the 1920s. Women were going missing and the maid there at the time worked out he was behind it. Doesn’t actually say how she worked that out.”

“Perhaps because it is just a made up story, a sorry attempt to drum up business this Halloween? I mean, it’s a great marketing ploy. Reopen a hotel after years of disuse and decay and tie in a story and opening that is trend-worthy this Halloween. It’s brilliant. People eat that stuff up. It’s all about the story attached to it. Real or made up, it gets people talking and, more importantly, people booking.”

“I bet the maid found some suspicious evidence in his room while she was cleaning up. Bloody towels? Maybe tokens from his victims? Jewelry or a lock of hair or something…”

“You know, they probably couldn’t afford to fully update the house so they kept things as they are and call it original – like realtors do with outdated homes. Then when things break down they blame it on ghosts.” Casey raises her fingers in air quotes around the word ghosts.

“Maybe. But it still sounds fun.”

Casey shakes her head and rolls her eyes.

Erica taps a few keys on her laptop and smiles. “Well, I’m not the only one who is intrigued. We got the last two spots!” She claps her hands together and smiles.

“What? Are you serious? You didn’t actually book us at The Halloween Hotel?”

“I did indeed.”

Casey steps behind Erica and sees the confirmation screen of Erica’s order. Her jaw drops.

“You paid how much?!”

“Don’t worry about it. This is my treat. I’m so glad we got in!”

“The last two spots? That’s a marketing ploy, Erica! They just want you to click the ‘Buy’ button. I can’t believe you fell for that.”

“What can I say? I’m human. And I’m interested in checking out this Halloween Hotel.” Erica leans back in her chair and whips her long blond hair over her shoulder, a satisfied grin spreading across her face. “You’re gonna love it.”

“I can promise you I will not.” Casey huffs.

On Halloween at dusk, they stand at the foot of The Halloween Hotel, looking up at the Victorian structure in awe. It stands towering over them, its presence beautiful and menacing at the same time. The paint is a tasteful dusty blue and cream. The turret towers high in the sky on the right of the house above the wrap around porch. Casey shakes off the chill running up her spine.

“What’s the matter?” Erica jokes. “It’s just a marketing ploy.”

Casey shoots Erica daggers with her eyes and Erica winks. They take a synchronized deep breathe before ascending the stairs, painted burgundy.

Erica clears her throat. “They say blood stained these stairs so bad they had no choice but to paint them red to cover up the evidence.”

Casey stops mid-step and looks wide-eyed at Erica.

“Just kidding!” Erica raises her arms in defense.

They open the front door and approach what appears to be a reception desk, though no one is behind it. As they get closer they see an envelope sitting on the desk with the names ‘Casey and Erica’ in flowing script written in red ink. The house is eerily devoid of any sound. Silence ensues as they stare at the envelope, the sounds of their own breath becoming louder.

“Open it.” Erica says, pushing the envelope toward Casey.

“Why me? You are the one who booked this place.” Casey guides the envelope back in Erica’s direction.

“But you are the one who thinks it’s nonsense.” Erica slides the envelope back as Casey grunts.

“Fine.” She takes the envelope in her hand and the red ink runs down the envelope like blood. “Oh gross!” she screams while extracting the notecard inside, careful not to get the ink on herself.

“Spooky!” Erica giggles.

Casey holds the card out and reads: “Welcome Casey and Erica to The Halloween Hotel. We hope you enjoy your stay here. Your room is 2B, up the stairs and to the right at the end of the hall. You will find wine and a charcuterie board in your room. These are complementary to thank you for your courage for staying the night with us here.”

“Oh yum!” Erica exclaims. “I hope it’s good wine and not the cheap crap.”

Casey glances up at Erica before gazing back down at the card and finishes reading.

“We ask one favor, if you please. Do NOT, under any circumstances, look into the mirror at the opposite end of the hallway to your room. You will find it is covered. Please keep it that way. It is both delicate and dangerous.”

“Super spooky!” Erica exclaims. Casey rolls her eyes.

Hours later, the wine (a relatively good vintage) and charcuterie board are polished off and the girls look around room, decorated with a heavy amount of plush burgundy velvet (“so the blood stains are not so noticeable”, Erica giggled with wine glass in hand). There hasn’t been a sound or soul in sight.

“Should we be worried?” Hiccups Erica, turning the wine bottle upside down over her empty glass. One lone red drop trickles out.

“Worried about your mental health, perhaps. As you seem to be the only one duped by this scam.”

Erica puts her hand on her heart and fends offense. “A scam, huh? Well, at least it came with a good bottle of wine.” Her eyes widen with an idea. “Hey, if no one else turned up, do you think there is more wine in the other rooms?”

Casey raises an eyebrow in consideration, then shrugs her shoulders. “Let’s explore, shall we?”

Down the dark hallway, they pad over dark wood floors overlaid with burgundy runners. Erica gently touches the floor to ceiling paneling. “Do you think there’s a hidden passageway somewhere here?” She taps lightly in one area, pushes in another. Nothing moves.

“I guess anything is possible.” Casey replies. She turns the knob of one room, then another. Both locked. She knocks gently on the second door and puts her ear to the door to listen for any sound. Silence. Erica continues to tap and push along the walls but they remain in tact. At the end of the hall, a glimmer catches Casey’s eye. “Hey, did you see that?”

Erica looks up from the paneling to see Casey striding down the hallway, mesmerized. She follows. She reaches Casey’s side just as she’s pulling back a velvet curtain. Both girls gasp.

The sound of jazz music floats into the hallway. The women stare into the mirror they uncovered. Instead of their reflections staring back, they watch a party in full swing. Girls in flapper dresses, some holding cigarettes on sleek black holders. Men in white shirts, ties and vests, some heads donned with fedoras. A jazz band plays in the corner. The room is identical to the reception area downstairs but everything is polished and new. Dancing, champagne, music and merriment unfold before the two women.

“Is this some kind of special effect?” Erica tilts her head from side to side. “It looks so real.”

Casey stands with her jaw dropped and shakes her head. “It’s….incredible.”

She tentatively puts a hand to the mirror. Her flesh moves through it. She pulls back as if she’s been shocked.

“Holy shit!” Erica’s eyes widen. They stare at each other for a beat then look back at the mirror.

“Hey, didn’t that note say something about this mirror and not to...”

“OMG! This makes total sense. This is where the party really is! Here they were trying to get us to follow some dumb rule and then miss out on the best part of the night!” Erica looks down at her yoga pants and t-shirt. Well, I’m certainly not dressed for the party. Shoot. I thought we would be seeing ghosts, not dancing and drinking champagne. But what the hell, let’s go!” Erica steps forward.

“No, wait!” Casey puts a hand out to stop her friend. Something feels off about this. “Something’s not right.”

“Oh you are such a stick in the mud, Casey. I want to have fun!” At the sound of her call, a woman in a black flapper dress and matching headpiece holds up her glass of champagne in their direction and winks.

“See, they are welcoming us! Let’s go!”

“I don’t know.” Casey protests. She shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

“Ugh.” Erica groans. “I’m going.” She puts a hand up to the mirror to ensure it hasn’t turned solid then walks through it entirely. She turns around to face Casey and gives her the finger. Casey gasps. “Look at you!” Erica’s yoga pants and t-shirt have transformed into a red flapper dress and heels. She looks down at herself, smoothing her hands over the dress in disbelief. She looks up and motions for Casey to follow her in.

Casey looks down at her own feet, peeking out bare under her long sweatpants. At the edge of the mirror is piece of paper sticking out. She plucks the postcard from under the magic mirror. Elmhurst House is printed on it, along with a picture of a façade that looks exactly like the house they are in. She looks up to show Erica but sees she has gone further into the party and has just accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter walking by. She seems to have forgotten all about Casey.

Casey rushes back to their room and grabs her laptop. She’s sure when Erica was reading the marketing write up for The Halloween House the name Elmhurst House was never mentioned. She types in the name to Google, her fingers running rampant over the keys. Her stomach drops into her knees when seeing the first hit.

Elmhurst House Massacre.

Casey’s hands start to shake as she scrolls down and reads how the town was once plagued by a madman during a string of murders. Elmhurst House was the only hotel in this small town where everyone knew everyone. People believed it must be where the madman was holed up. Elmhurst was an upscale place. They put the privacy of its occupants at upmost importance. The owners refused to give out any personal details of their guests to the police. The town started talking and their reputation was soiled.

In an effort to reclaim their good reputation, they threw a Halloween party and invited the whole town. Champagne was flowing, music, and dancing. Until, around midnight, when the guests, limbs weighed down by poison in the food and drink, realized the owners were not offering apology, they were exacting revenge.

Interestingly, even the owners of the house died that night. The lone survivor was the maid. It is assumed she survived. She was never seen again, and later it was discovered she had escaped earlier from an insane asylum.

Casey’s whole body trembled with fear. She tossed her computer aside and ran back down the hallway. When she reached the mirror she no longer heard the music coming from it. Her eyes searched for Erica, finding her curled up in a corner holding her stomach. She put up a hand to move through the mirror but it was solid. She banged on the mirror frantically, screaming out her name as she watched the guests moving about lethargically around the room, or slumped on the furniture. On the stairway, a lone woman wearing a maid uniform stood tall, smiling. The mirror shattered, fragments landing at her feet, as the clock struck midnight.