Desolation - Chapter 1

 "What's all this haunted hotel voodoo doll crap?" Matt scorched his hand trying to light a fat cuban. His doctor told him it was bad for someone like him with a punctured lung, but he just couldn't get himself to quit. Sitting right across him in the cigar lounge, as a puff of smoke wafted into the air, Stefan King spoke ."The Omni homestead has a past, ya know .",as he gestured the waiter to bring him another scotch ."In 1766 ,the first year of the hotel, a wedding was scheduled .The nervous groom-to-be had second thoughts about the wedding, and he ran away .Heartbroken ,the bride took her own life on the 13th floor, hanging herself .Legends say that even today ,the spirit of the bride wanders at night on the 13th floor, asking people the time, waiting for the groom to return".

                   "Regardless, you have to help me in my documentary, you have no choice" Stefan said .Crazy about horror stories ,he fancied himself a paranormal activities expert and so he changed his name to the man he admired most ,Stephen King .Having been sued for defamation ,he changed it to Stefan ."You and your documentaries", Matt chuckled, as he finished his scotch ,drowning the last of the drink diluted with the melted remains of the ice at the end of the glass ."And Matt ,we'll be leaving this weekend"
, he spoke, as he finished the last of the wings ,slightly upsetting the balance of the chocolate brown cherry oak table while getting up .Matt signalled the maître d'  to bring their coats .Replying in the affirmative, he left.

                   Matt couldn't sleep at night ,unable to understand why. Being a lawyer, he was the rational and logical one, an atheist, not getting swept up in emotions. He knew that ghosts did not exist, and yet he percieved a sense of acrimony ,an emotion of cold ,heart - shriveling contempt and hatred, the stinging ungodly aura and the odourless pungence of the cold air around him. He had a bad feeling ,with all his instincts telling him not to interfere with what he did not understand. And yet ,paid no heed to the voices of reason .

                     He woke up, as the golden droplets of the sun feasted upon his sculpted porcelain face  ,not having rested his eyes even for a second that night ."Just say that you have a wedding or something ,and cancel .You know you don't have to do this". His wife had been nagging him from the second he had woken up ."You know that I enjoy such trips  ,plus I promised Stef .We've been best buddies since high school .I can't just say no ", he said while turning off the nightlamp ,and pulling his wife closer to him .She affectionately pushed him away a bit and reasoned  "I know ,but it's risky with you lung condition and your phasmophobia just makes it—", but to no avail, in view of the fact that her voice was drowned by the passionate swishing of his tongue in her mouth, as they came even closer ,compulsively ripping each others clothes off ,to the tune of the shattering nightlamp . Twenty minutes later ,he smiled. He was going on the trip.

                   The days flew by ,and the weekend arrived .Being a light packer ,he came to the living room only with his suitcase .His mind was clouded with animosity ,a curious feeling of elation ,and an inexplainable sense of inadequacy ,but perhaps the cause of the latter was that the underpants he was wearing were the only ones he had .Confused in his emotions ,he headed out to his friends car ,gassed up and ready to leave .Loading his luggage ,he sat in the car ."Excited?" ,questioned Stefan ,although more as a declaration, his words being drowned out over the revving of the engine ,to which Matt only shrugged .His wife prayed ,as she watched the sports car zip away leaving behind a trail of smoke .Thus ,their journey began .The journey that would change their life .