November the 12th 1939. Autumn. The hotel....

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November the 12th 1939. Autumn. The hotel....

We pulled up outside the hotel, the rain bouncing down on to the muddy track. The icy wind rattled the trees and blew the dead rotting leaves.

The hotel was half covered in the gloomy fog, which hang like the black ripper's cloak. This fog had been looming around for many days, but it seemed to be getting heavier.

Through the heavy fog, we could see the black cut out shape of where the door used to be, now the door laid alone on the timber floor, decaying and covered in woodworm and an unusual fungus has start to move itself on to the door.

"That's the front entrance for the hotel, I think?" I said to my fellow partner.

Has we look up the mist was so heavy we could only see the entries and the first floor of the hotel but the rested was cover in the gloomy mist.

I gazed up at the full moon which was covered with the thick storm clouds which was starting gathering together like bees in a swam.

The dim moonlight reflected off the dead looking trees, which casts weird, deformed, figure shapes on to the rotting leaves and the muddy path. To me the figures were moving toward us, but it just could be my eyes playing trick.

I turned my head to what used to be a boating lake, but now a smelly swamp with a thick green crust of pondweed, which covered the surface.

I remember the old days when I use to swimming in the lake on those hot summer days, but I would go near it now with all the pollution, which has been pumped, into it.

"Where are we going to start our search?" George asked

" On the top floor, follow me"

I locked the car and headed to the door. Weeds and insects have taken over the hotel now. Nettles grew up from the floorboards.

We entered...

Outside the rain stopped, but how long I asked myself

The hotel was very quite accepted of the noises of the insects, too quite in my opinion. I headed towards the stairs, but at the same time I was weaving my way around the woodland weeds.

I set down one foot on to the first step; the step cracked and fell to the basement below. When the wood hit the floor I heard a little grunt, but the crack of the wood hitting the floor shadowed most of the sound of the grunt I heard.

" Be very careful the floor is not that safe, and I think that we are not a lone".

We walked up the creaky, squeaky old wooden stairs. Slowly we walked, side by side, our eyes looking dead straight, gazing forward into the thick dark hovering mist.

We reached the top of the stairs in no time at all. I squinted into the darkness, trying to pick out a black book, which had a crystal object hidden in the leather cover, or so the town people said.
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We started to move once again, the rotting floor groaned and moaned, just crying for mercy with every step we made.

The cold icy wind blew through every nook and cranny. Every breath we let out made us look like two old dragons letting steam run freely through our red scaly nose.

My nose was red. My fingers were numb. At last we discover the room, 1...0...1... where thousands of mysteries lay.

I took a deep icy breath and held it tight as I squeezed my red raw fingers into a fist.

Very slowly ...

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