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Story. The room was hidden away in a gloomy corridor on the upper level of the inn.

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?Can I have a room for one please?? The elderly receptionist peered over her aged, dented and burgundy coloured reading glasses. She calmly leaned forward in her battered arm chair, as if she had all the time in the world which was unlikely. Her gushing breath acted as a signal for the arrival of her face, which was now directly looking at mine. I tried to peel my gaze away but I couldn't help notice her decaying, yellow teeth. Her skin sagged down her bony face in an ocean of wrinkles. The grey hair didn't remedy her appearance which was tied up in a bun at the back of her head in a desperate attempt to hide the obvious bald spot. Her eyes were a dark grey cloudy colour. Something fearful inside me told me that she must be blind. ?Yes, young gentlemen? she croaked. ?Follow me and I?ll show you to the room?. One surprisingly firm hand clasped an old mahogany walking stick, an expensive one with carvings of snakes twirled around the sides. ...read more.


It looked and even had the aroma of a building that had been abandoned for half a century. Flaking speckles of paint lined the floor with dust and the corpses of unfortunate insects. Disused pieces of wooden furniture were rotting away in the corner of the reception room; stained with lichen while the curtains hanged limp and moth-eaten. The atmosphere felt eerily silent, patiently waiting in expectation for one more life form to creak across the ragged floorboards. The room was hidden away in a gloomy corridor on the upper level of the inn. I walked a few steps behind the old woman just to observe the surroundings. The space was confined and suffocating, the only source of hope was hanging loosely from the sealing in the form of a single light bulb. Driven by its own momentum, it was swinging from left to right systematically. The receptionist arrived at what seemed to be the only discernible room in the inn. I could only catch glimpses of her, but from what I could see, she had turned around to face me. ...read more.


He began to move closer. My every movement was scrutinised by his intense and fear provoking eyes. His face had mostly been hidden by his glasses, but I could almost feel his cold breath as stepped closer and closer and closer. I could sense an imminent danger. I slowly turned around, keeping my eyes on the man all the while. Deliberately, he followed me. A malevolent smile crept across his face. His smile reeked of wickedness. Something inside had told me withheld sinister secrets. His cold, grey eyes bore into my skull. My heart raced. I took my eyes off the man for a split second and bolted down the narrow corridor. I threw myself around a corner. That?s when I saw it. The coppery smell. The blunt object in the woman?s handbag. The abandoned inn. It suddenly all made sense. An entire wall was covered with horrific photographs of corpses that had been dissected and divided into men, women and children. I felt sick and weak. I turned around to see the object that the old woman had been carrying in her handbag. It was a small hatchet that dripped with blood. Drip Drip. Drip. Drip. Onto her soaked red shoes. ...read more.

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