Room 13

Hey everyone, here's a standalone story for you. This one is an entry for Literotica's Halloween contest. It does take place in the same universe as my other stories but it is a standalone work. I hope you enjoy!

Comments and feedback are always appreciated! I read every single one. Also, please let me know if you spot any mistakes. I upload revisions all the time, and I will correct any errors that are pointed out to me. Just make sure to be specific so that I can find what you're talking about.

Please note that this story is a work of fiction. I might use parody names for pop culture references: including songs, books, movies, and celebrities. However, they are not meant to accurately represent the real people or media. This is a fictional universe. As always, this is a world without STI's, and everyone involved in sexual activity is at least eighteen years old.

-Witty

NOTE: If you're new to my stories, there's a timeline on my page that should work as a suggested reading order. Just don't judge my earlier stories too harshly! I was, and am, still learning.

WARNING: This story is pretty dark. Not dark like some aspects of Birthday Pool Party. It's violent and graphic. The story is meant to read like an old horror movie. If you're not into that, you might want to find something else. You've been warned!

*****

"Okay, I found one."

Ethan didn't take his eyes off the road as rain hammered against the windshield, the relentless pounding nearly drowning out the steady thump of the wipers. Beyond the glass, the headlights illuminated wet pavement, thick trees, and an obscuring fog. The narrow road twisted through the mountains ahead before disappearing from view.

"Please tell me it doesn't have the word budget spelled with a K," he said.

I looked up from my phone. "What?"

"Or cozy with a K."

"Why would budget have a K?" I frowned.

"I don't know," Ethan shrugged. "Businesses do weird things with spellings to try and be cute. I don't like it."

"You're a snob," I rolled my eyes.

"I'm a man who doesn't want to be murdered in his sleep," he replied, running his hand along the sexy scruff on his chin.

Lightning flashed somewhere behind the tree line.

I grinned. "Funny you should mention murder."

Ethan finally glanced at me. It lasted less than a second before his attention returned to the road, but I was easily able to catch the suspicion on his face. "No."

"I haven't even told you yet!"

"Maybe, but I know that look," he responded.

"What look?"

"The look that leads to us driving forty-five minutes out of our way to see the world's largest rocking chair," my boyfriend stated flatly.

"That was totally worth it!" I exclaimed.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Right."

I turned my attention back to my phone and looked at the website for the Mountain Laurel Motel. The picture at the top showed a long, U-shaped single-story building with a large parking lot. The photo had been taken during nicer weather, and there were flower baskets hanging outside the office. The motel was quite nice, with mountains behind the property and a bright blue sky. It had an old, charming look to it; the kind of motel where you parked directly outside your room.

"They have rooms available," I said.

"Good, although you still haven't told me the murder situation."

"It's only twelve minutes from here," I added, ignoring his other comment.

"Great," he nodded. "So. Murder?"

"It's haunted," I grinned.

Ethan sighed. "You waited until I agreed to tell me that."

I turned toward him, still smiling. "You hadn't agreed, but too late now."

"At least there's no such thing as ghosts," he laughed lightly.

"You don't know that!" I argued.

"Yes, I do," he countered. "Didn't you hear the news from one of those hadron colliders? It didn't detect any particles that could explain ghosts, therefore, there are no ghosts."

"That giant science thing also didn't detect dinosaurs, but we know those were real," I told him.

"That's... not the same thing."

I laughed.

Another gust of wind caused the small car to shake slightly as rain fell in a heavy sheet. Ethan leaned forward slightly, both hands tightening around the steering wheel. My laughter died out as I realized I couldn't see a thing. Hopefully Ethan could.

"You okay?" I asked nervously.

"Yeah, but I don't want to keep doing this for another hour," he replied.

Neither did I.

We'd originally planned to make it farther south before stopping for the night. Of course, that had been before the rain started. A light drizzle had become a steady downpour, and then the sky apparently decided to dump the entire Atlantic Ocean onto West Virginia. Our Halloween road trip through the Appalachian Mountains had been going great up until then.

Now I was hungry, my legs were stiff, and my butt was asleep. Ethan was tired and stressed from not being able to see the road. The idea of a warm hotel room was sounding great to me and I was sure Ethan would like something to eat. We'd been together for three wonderful years, and this trip was something we'd been looking forward to for months.

I scrolled. "Four-point-two stars."

"How many reviews?" he asked, indulging in my love of research.

"Two hundred sixteen," I answered.

"Any bedbugs?"

"Why would you even put that thought in my head?" I frowned.

"Because you're looking at ghost stories."

"No!" I insisted. "I haven't looked up the ghost stories yet!"

He glanced at me. I blushed.

"I just saw the word 'haunted' a couple times," I admitted.

"Of course you did."

"Okay," I stated, tapping the reviews. "Clean rooms, friendly staff, comfortable beds, good water pressure."

"There we go," Ethan nodded.

"Quiet."

"Excellent!" he grinned.

"Oh."

Ethan groaned. "That sounded expensive."

"No, listen to this," I instructed.

"Do I have a choice?" he asked teasingly.

"No."

I shifted in my seat and read from my phone. "'Stayed for two nights while visiting family. Room was clean and the owner was nice. Heard footsteps around two in the morning, but when I looked, nobody was there.'"

"Imagination."

"Wait, it gets better!" I exclaimed.

"I was afraid of that," he sighed.

"Francesca from Kentucky says 'someone knocked three times on our door. My husband opened it immediately but no one was there.'"

"Maybe it was on the wall?" Ethan suggested with a smirk. "The couple beside them was having a better time than they were."

I ignored him and kept scrolling. There were dozens of ordinary reviews between the interesting ones. Complaints about pillows, praise for the price, outrage over a broken ice machine. One person said they'd stayed hoping for ghosts, but there had been no sightings of the "Laurel Lady," whoever that was.

There wasn't much consistency to the stories. Some guests mentioned footsteps, others reported knocks. A couple of people claimed to see a woman walking outside late at night. One reviewer claimed something grabbed her foot while she was asleep and tugged on her leg. Most of the reviews treated it as a joke, but I was already sold.

"Apparently she's been there since the seventies."

"According to whom?" he scoffed.

"I don't know, Ethan," I huffed. "I'm reading internet reviews, not submitting this for peer review."

"I'm just saying, this is how misinformation spreads," he laughed.

"You're such a dork," I giggled.

"I'm an engineer," Ethan countered.

"And I'm in marketing," I rolled my eyes.

"With a minor in ghost hunting," he teased. "Are you gonna put the address in? It's been twelve minutes."

"Shit, right!" I exclaimed, reaching for his phone on the dash mount.

Unfortunately, we had actually gone farther away from Laurel Creek, West Virginia. However, a quick turn had us back on course. While Ethan braved the storm, I booked a Standard King room at the Mountain Laurel Motel. I couldn't help but throw my hands up when the reservation was confirmed.

"We're staying at a haunted motel!" I exclaimed.

"Allegedly."

"On Halloween," I reminded him.

"Yes, Natalie."

"In the mountains!"

"The ones I can't even see right now," Ethan grumbled.

"With a mysterious ghost woman called the Laurel Lady," I sighed happily.

"Who'd better respect the Do Not Disturb sign."

I settled back into my seat, ridiculously pleased with myself. Our original plan had been a perfectly normal roadside hotel. Some generic place where every room looked exactly like every other room in every other hotel we'd ever stayed in. This was so much better; something we'd remember.

Turning my attention back to my phone, I did a search on the Laurel Lady. There wasn't much. Just a handful of stories. A young woman on a Halloween night in the seventies. Room twelve. Some sort of love story with at least thirty different versions. A lot of it was obviously people just inventing things.

"Wait."

"I can't really stop right now," Ethan sighed as he tried to see through the deluge.

"She died in one of the rooms," I said.

"That's generally how hotel ghosts work," he mumbled.

"Motel."

"My apologies," Ethan smiled.

I skimmed the article again. "October thirty-first, 1974. Her name was Evelyn Ward. She was twenty-seven."

Things were different when the ghost had a name. Proof that they were once a person. One no different from me. A human being who laughed and cried, loved and hated; one with hopes and dreams. What had caused her to become a ghost? Was it unrequited love like one story suggested? Or was it the brutal rape and murder that another claimed?

"What happened?" he asked.

"Doesn't say," I sighed. "Just that she died unexpectedly while staying there. There are a lot of different stories."

"I wonder if the motel invented her," Ethan mused. "I don't think it's unheard of for a business to embrace local legends when those legends encourage people to give them money.'

"You're no fun," I sighed, but my actual job couldn't disagree. "But, you have a point."

"I know," he laughed. "I also know you're excited, so I'm happy to take you."

"Which is why I love you," I leaned across the center console and kissed his cheek. "Eyes on the road."

"I can't help it," Ethan said smoothly. "There's a goddess with raven hair and blue eyes sitting beside me. I can't help but admire her beauty."

"Would you like some wine with that cheese?" I giggled.

"Fine, I'll be less romantic," he shrugged. "I love your big tits. They look great in that top."

I pouted and crossed my arms over my chest. "I hope we see her tonight."

"I hope I see both of those girls tonight," Ethan waggled his eyebrows and gestured toward my chest.

"Shut up and drive."

Ethan laughed, and I couldn't keep the smile off my face as he drove. I put my dark hair into a braid as we approached the motel. We soon rounded another bend. At first, all I saw was a red glow bleeding through the rain. Then the trees opened. A tall roadside sign stood ahead on the right, its neon humming brightly.

"MOUNTAIN LAUREL MOTEL"

"There!" I pointed.

Ethan slowed and turned onto the street. Through the rain, I could make out a long, low building with a large parking lot. Lights burned above a row of doors, and a handful of cars were parked outside them. It looked exactly like the pictures: old-fashioned, worn, ordinary.

"Happy Halloween," Ethan smiled

"Best one ever!"

The office looked exactly how I wanted the office of a seventy-year-old roadside motel to look. A little bell jingled above the door when Ethan pushed it open. A wooden counter ran along one wall, with an old brass bell sitting beside a computer that appeared to be the most modern thing in the area. There was a rack of postcards near the door, with an old vending machine beside it.

Halloween decorations had been added to the area. A plastic jack-o'-lantern sat on the counter and two paper bats had been taped to the wall. Someone had stretched fake cobwebs across the corner of the front window and that was it. I loved it! It was minimal, but still effective.

"Good evening," a heavyset older man behind the counter said as we approached.

"Hi!" I gave him a friendly smile.

"Reservation?" the man asked.

"Frost. Natalie."

He turned toward his computer. "You just made it?"

"Yeah, about ten minutes ago," Ethan answered.

"Then you two are the reason my computer made a noise," the old man smiled.

"Sorry," I smirked.

"Don't be," the guy shook his head. "Means somebody's paying me."

"Yep. Frost. One night. King." he typed.

"That's us," Ethan nodded.

The man reached beneath the counter and produced a small paper sleeve containing two key cards.

"Ray Vale," he said. "I own the place. If you need anything, this is the office. I'll be here until eleven. After that, number's on the phone in your room."

"Thanks," Ethan said.

"You're in twelve," the owner told us. "Right side as you leave the office, almost to the end. You can park right out front."

"Perfect," I took the paper sleeve.

"Wi-Fi password's on the card sleeve," Ray continued. "There's an ice machine around the corner from the office, and another by the rooms. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Ethan looked at me. I looked at Ray. Ray looked at me.

I couldn't help myself. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," the owner nodded.

"Is this place really haunted?"

Ray's expression didn't change, but Ethan made a quiet sound that might have been a laugh.

"What?" I asked my boyfriend.

"You lasted almost forty seconds," Ethan smiled, his green eyes shining with affection.

"I had to wait until he finished checking us in," I blushed.

Ray looked from me to Ethan. "You two here because of the supposed ghost?"

"No," Ethan said.

"Yes," I said at exactly the same time.

The owner raised a bushy white eyebrow.

"We needed somewhere to stay," Ethan explained. "She found out about the ghost afterward."

"Before I booked it," I spoke up.

"Seconds before."

"Still counts," I insisted.

Ray nodded slowly, as though he'd encountered our particular species of tourist before.

"So?" I asked. "Is it true?"

"That depends," the owner said slowly.

"On what?" I leaned forward excitedly.

"Who you ask."

I smiled. "That's a suspicious answer."

"My parents ran this place before me," Ray said slowly. "I grew up here before I inherited it. I've been here a long time."

"Wait," I frowned before my blue eyes lit up. "That would mean your parents owned the place in 1974, right? When Evelyn died?"

"Wow, someone has done their research," the owner nodded in approval. "I can confirm that Evelyn Ward was a real person, and she did pass away here. Some people think her spirit is still here."

"The Laurel Lady," I perked up. "Have you ever seen her?"

His eyes flicked briefly toward the rain-streaked window. "No."

"Never?" I pouted in disappointment.

"Nope," Ray shook his head.

"What about anything weird? Footsteps? Things moving? Doors opening by themselves?" I was almost begging for a good story.

"It's an old motel," the elderly owner shrugged. "Old buildings make noise."

Ethan pointed toward Ray. "Thank you."

I reluctantly followed Ethan toward the door. My hand was already on the handle when Ray spoke again.

"Mrs. Frost?"

I turned. I didn't correct him by telling him we weren't married. I just looked at the old owner, hoping he was about to tell me something about Evelyn. Instead, he nodded toward the window.

"Watch your step getting out," Ray advised. "Water pools pretty bad along that side."

"Oh. Thanks."

"Have a good night," the older man inclined his head. "Sleep well."

The Mountain Laurel wasn't really one building so much as three long sections forming a U around the parking lot. The office occupied one end, while room stretched beneath a narrow covered walkway. Each door had its own light and its own parking space. Rainwater streamed from the edge of the roof as we drove past the first few rooms.

"Six," I said, looking out the window.

"I can read."

"Seven."

"Still literate," Ethan chuckled.

"Eight."

"Wow, you're doing so well!" he exclaimed.

"Shut up," I snapped at him. "There!"

Ethan pulled into the space directly outside Room Twelve. The room looked completely ordinary, with a dark green door, brass numbers, and a narrow window with the curtains drawn. A faded metal chair sat beneath the window, protected from the worst of the rain by the overhang. There were no cars parked in either of the neighboring spaces, meaning those rooms were likely vacant.

As I was unbuckling, I noticed the next door.

14.

I stopped.

"What?" Ethan asked.

I leaned forward. Room Twelve was directly in front of us. To the left was Room Eleven. To the right was fourteen. Then fifteen. I looked farther down the row.

"There's no thirteen!"

Ethan followed my gaze. "Nope. Hotels do that."

"This is a motel," I argued.

Ethan turned off the car. "People are superstitious. Thirteen is supposedly unlucky. Buildings skip the thirteenth floor, hotels skip Room Thirteen. Even cruise ships skip the thirteenth floor. Remember the cruise we went on last summer? That ship wasn't haunted."

"I know, and I'm still disappointed," I admitted. "A haunted cruise would be fucking bad-ass."

"Hey, you found the spookiest room in the hotel," he said. "Sorry, the motel. Let's head inside."

The first thing Ethan did when we got inside Room Twelve was lock the door. The first thing I did was look for a ghost.

I wasn't subtle about it.

While Ethan was wrestling our bags inside and kicking the door shut, I stood in the middle of the room and extended my arms. I heard Ethan grumbling as he maneuvered our bags, but all I did was twirl, my long braid whipping through the air as I spun several times.

"Evelyn?"

"Well, that only took eight seconds," Ethan chuckled.

"I'm being welcoming!" I reasoned.

"To the dead woman?" he asked.

"She was here first," I pointed out. "She died in this room."

"Allegedly."

I ignored him and started my inspection. Room Twelve was nicer than I'd expected. It wasn't luxurious; no one was going to mistake the Mountain Laurel Motel for a resort. But it was clean, warm, and inviting. A king-size bed dominated most of the room, covered by a dark green comforter with four white pillows arranged against a large wooden headboard.

Each side of the bed had a nightstand, each with its own brass reading lamp. A set of drawers sat across from the bed with a flat-screen television mounted above it. On the other side of the room was a small round table with two chairs. The room also had a mini-fridge and a microwave. The carpet and bathroom seemed relatively new.

"Whoa, big shower," I commented after peeking in the bathroom.

"Bathtub?" he asked. "We could take a nice bath together?"

"Nah, no bath," I shook my head as I removed my coat. "No bloodstains or mysterious messages written across the mirror either."

"Disappointed?"

"Give her time," I asked.

"No, I was asking if you were disappointed we can't take a bath?" he explained.

"Don't worry," I began as I looked out the window, "I haven't had any dick in days. I'm craving it."

"Excellent," Ethan grinned, wrapping his arms around me from behind and kissing my cheek. "What are you looking at?"

"I'm looking at where Room Thirteen should be."

"There is no Room Thirteen," he said.

"You're not even a little curious?"

"No, I understand why they skipped thirteen," Ethan said as he rested his hands on my flat stomach. "Because people are superstitious."

"Boring."

"Fine, because Ray sacrificed Room Thirteen to an ancient Appalachian demon in exchange for immortality and reasonably priced insurance," Ethan teased, his hands sliding beneath my shirt so he could caress my bare stomach.

"Better," I nodded. "Although, I work in marketing for an insurance company; not even a soul is payment enough to make their prices reasonable."

"Point," he agreed, kissing my cheek again as his hands settled at my hips.

"You know," I said, "if Evelyn does show up tonight, you're going to owe me an apology for doubting me."

"I don't doubt that Evelyn Ward existed," Ethan replied.

"You doubt that she's still here."

"Correct," he nibbled on my earlobe, making me sigh happily.

"So when she appears-"

"If," he corrected.

"When."

"If."

I rolled my eyes. "When she appears, I want a sincere apology. Written and notarized."

His hands slid up the back of my shirt, unhooking my bra. "You're demanding."

"You know that when you started dating me," I reminded him as I slid my arms out of the straps.

"I was young."

"That was three years ago," I giggled as I reached into the top of my shirt and pulled out my bra, freeing my girls.

"I've matured considerably since then," Ethan reasoned as I tossed my bra onto the drawers beneath the television.

"Last week you bought a bag of gummy worms at the gas station and ate half of them for dinner," I laughed lightly as I removed my shoes and socks.

"That was an appetizer."

I laughed and he kissed me. Just enough to make me smile when he pulled away.

Then my stomach growled. Loudly.

Ethan looked down between us.

I closed my eyes. "Don't."

"That was incredibly romantic," he struggled not to laugh. "I want you so badly right now."

"Not another word," I raised a finger at him threateningly.

"I think Evelyn heard that."

I shoved him playfully. "Feed me!"

"There she is," he chuckled. "What would you like?"

"Something that doesn't require us to go outside for," I said. "I am not putting my bra back on."

"Works for me," Ethan nodded as he removed his shoes.

I climbed into bed and sat cross-legged against the headboard. Ethan took off his jeans and pulled on a pair of lounge pants while I checked for what Laurel Creek had to offer. There wasn't much. A convenience store, a fast-food restaurant, a Chinese place, and three pizza places.

"Pizza?" I offered.

"Works for me," Ethan nodded. "Do they have wings?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "Oooh, and garlic knots."

Ethan tossed me his wallet from his jeans. "Here. Put it on my card."

"Thanks, baby!" I chirped before placing the order. "Forty minutes. I ordered some drinks, too."

"Perfect."

My sexy boyfriend climbed onto the bed and plopped down beside me. We'd been planning this trip for a long time. Nothing elaborate, just four days away. A few scenic drives, a couple of hikes, whatever little towns caught our attention. The civil engineer in Ethan pointed out every bridge and unique building, while I just wanted to distract myself from work.

I rested my head against his shoulder. "This is cozy."

"With a C or a K?" he asked teasingly.

I groaned. "That was terrible."

"You wouldn't change me," Ethan chuckled.

"Eh, I have a few thoughts," I said.

He placed his hand beneath my chin and lifted my head. "Liar."

I smiled as I took in his handsome face, his green eyes, his sandy-brown hair, that sexy stubble. "You might be right."

Placing one hand at his waist, I pressed my lips against Ethan's. He pulled me close, returning my kiss with a smoldering passion. We made out for several minutes, our bodies pressed together as our hands explored each other's bodies. Soon we were grinding, our lust growing as I moaned into his mouth.

"Pizza," he murmured.

"Hey, think about whatever you need to," I giggled against his lips. "Whatever gets you nice and hard for me."

"Half an hour," Ethan reminded me.

"A dangerous amount of time," I smiled. "Think you can behave yourself?"

Ethan's hand cupped my heaving breast from outside my shirt. "No."

"Good," I whispered, grabbing his other hand and guiding it between my legs. "Make me cum."

Both his hands went to my belt, unbuckling it before opening my jeans. He slid a hand into my underwear, his fingers seeking my wetness. I started sucking on his neck as he touched my slit. I gasped and tensed as he pushed his fingers inside me. I was soaking wet, my vaginal walls clamping down on his fingers.

"You're so wet," he growled as he pleasured me.

"It's all for you, baby, all for you," I moaned, my legs instinctively spreading. "My pussy's always wet for you."

Ethan lifted my shirt up over my boobs before lowering his head and taking a nipple in his mouth. I gasped his name as he sucked and fingered me. I had big tits and sensitive nipples; I could even orgasm just from nipple play occasionally. Add in Ethan rubbing my clit and I was his. His completely.

"Ah! Oh God, ah!" I gasped, my toes curling. "Keep going! Keep going, please!"

I reached for his cock, caressing him from outside his lounge pants. Fuck, I wanted to taste him, needed to feel him inside me. Then he started rubbing my clit, causing all rational thought to disappear as my brain short-circuited. My right leg shook as my back arched and I announced my orgasm so loudly that I was sure Evelyn heard me.

"Oh baby, I'm cumming!" I gasped. "I'm cumming!"

It took a few moments for me to regain control of my body. The instant I did, I leaned over and pulled his penis out of his pants. Then I got my mouth on him as fast as I possibly could. I was moaning loudly as I rapidly bobbed my head, sucking his dick with a furious intensity.

He pushed my jeans and panties down my legs, with me pulling my legs back to help. Then he took off his own shirt. I just kept right on sucking. My lips formed a tight seal around his tasty tool, my tongue molding to the curve of his cock. I did help him remove his own pants, leaving him naked.

"I want you on your knees," he growled, grabbing my braid and pulling me off him.

"Yes, sir!" I gasped, drool running down my chin. "I'll be a good girl."

Ethan got out of bed, with me following him as I discarded my shirt so I was as naked as my boyfriend. I knew exactly what he wanted, so I undid my braid, letting my raven hair fall free as I got on my knees in front of him. He stood over me, holding his cock at the base as he slapped my face with the thick shaft.

"Fuck, I love your cock," I cooed, holding my big tits together as I wiggled my body sexily. "Please, please let me suck it!"

"You like sucking dick?" he asked, pressing the head to my mouth.

"Mm, yes!" I moaned, giving the head a couple quick sucks before he pulled it away from me. "I wanna suck you dry, I wanna swallow your cum. Please fuck my face!"

Grabbing a fistful of my hair, Ethan shoved his cock straight down my throat. I gagged and drooled, my lips pressing against his base as his balls rested against my chin. With both of his hands on my head, he groaned as he felt my throat muscles caressing him. I swallowed several times, heightening the sensation.

"Gak! Gak! Hurk! Gak!" I coughed, enjoying choking on dick. "Glug! Glug! Gak! Glug!"

Ethan then began to roughly fuck my face, using my mouth as if it were a pussy. He pounded my upper hole relentlessly, making my pussy gush as I sucked and gurgled. My hair cascaded down my back, the tips tickling my skin as I somehow felt every sensation in my body all at once.

"You look so hot with my cock in your mouth," Ethan growled as he used me for his pleasure. Just the way I liked it. "I'm gonna cum straight down your throat."

I made a noise of wanting around his dick, my blue eyes looking up at him. It was a fast, sloppy blowjob, but I could tell he was ready to cum. I sucked hard on his pole as he drilled my face, his orgasm approaching. He started cumming as he was pulling back, warm semen flooding my mouth. Some went down my throat, but I held as much as I could in my mouth.

"Show me," he ordered as he pulled out.

Tilting my head back, I opened my mouth and showed him his creamy load.

"Swallow," Ethan instructed.

I tilted my head a second time, making a swallowing motion as if I were taking a shot. Only it was cum instead of vodka that went down my throat and into my stomach. Just like I knew what he liked, Ethan knew exactly what I liked. He knew what I'd do any depraved act to receive.

Ethan patted me on the head.

"Mm, am I a good girl?" I asked coyly, my hands on my knees.

"You're a very good girl, Natalie," he sighed happily.

Then the wonderful moment was ruined by a knock at the door.

I shot up and ran to find something to cover myself with, my boobs flying around wildly. Ethan pulled on his boxer and lounge pants as I unzipped a suitcase and extracted one of Ethan's flannels. The shirt fell to my upper thighs, covering all the naughty bits. Still, I knew my hard nipples were denting the fabric, and it would be obvious we just had sexy fun times.

Hey, I was a hot twenty-seven year old marketing coordinator who believed in ghosts and had a great body. The delivery guy was going to be quite jealous of the hot piece of ass Ethan had in his motel room. Oh, that was a deliciously naughty thought! I couldn't wait until later when we got to the best part.

Another wonderful moment was ruined when the delivery driver turned out to be a woman who was more interested in Ethan's bare chest. Oh well, at least the pizza was delicious. Ethan and I sat in bed, watching a horror movie as we enjoyed pizza, chicken wings, and garlic knots. Yummy, yummy!

I was curled up beside my boyfriend on top of the comforter, the flannel now unbuttoned and occasionally offering a glimpse at the goods. Ethan had one arm around me and a soda in his other hand. On the television, a woman carrying a flashlight was slowly descending a staircase into a basement.

I frowned. "Why is she doing that?"

"Because if she acted logically and got out of that house, we wouldn't have a movie," Ethan reasoned.

"She heard screaming from the basement and is going down there anyway," I pointed out.

"Seems that way, yes," he agreed.

"Alone."

Ethan glanced at me. "You wanted to watch this."

"That doesn't mean I support her decisions," I explained as I ran my toes down his calf.

The woman reached the bottom of the stairs, her flashlight starting to flicker. The woman smacked the flashlight against her palm, causing it to come back to life. She then moved deeper into the basement, the flashlight sweeping across an old workbench, then a furnace, finally a doorway.

The woman took another step. I knew exactly what was happening, but apparently Ethan didn't.

A face suddenly filled the screen.

Ethan jerked hard enough to shake the mattress. I burst out laughing.

"Fuck you."

That only made me laugh harder. "You jumped!"

"I did not!"

"You almost threw me off the bed!" I giggled.

"I moved," he mumbled.

"You jumped," I told him.

"It was loud," Ethan looked away.

I pushed myself upright, grinning at him as I brushed my long hair back over a shoulder. "Oh my God, you should have seen your face."

"My face didn't do anything!" he protested.

"Your entire body did something," I smirked.

"It was an involuntary physiological response," Ethan grumbled. "I reacted."

"You were scared," I teased.

"I was startled," he insisted.

"Scared."

"Startled."

"Terrified."

He narrowed his eyes.

I smiled sweetly. "Do you need me to protect you from the scary movie?"

"I think I'll manage," he grumbled.

"You can hold my hand if you'd like?" I offered.

"I'm good."

"Aw, come here!" I pouted, opening my arms for a hug.

"Natalie!" my big, strong boyfriend whined pathetically.

Fuck, I loved him. He teased me about believing in ghosts, I gave him shit about jumping at every little noise. We worked. The sex was mind-blowing, to the point he actually made me pass out a few times. It had been three amazing years, and I could not be happier with Ethan. Really, if he pulled out a ring and proposed, I'd agree to marry him in a second.

I wrapped both arms around him. "There, there. I'm here. You're safe."

Ethan tried to push me away, but he was laughing. "Stop!"

"It's okay, the scary man is gone," I promised, running my fingers through his sandy-brown hair.

"I'm turning this off," he reached for the remote.

I grabbed his wrist. "No!"

The movie was forgotten as we started playfully wrestling. I straddled him, pinning his arms down as I shoved my tongue in his mouth. He grabbed my butt and managed to toss me off him. I discarded the flannel, leaving me naked. That also left me vulnerable, and he started tickling my sides.

I yanked his pants down, causing his junk to start flopping around as we moved. He grabbed my foot, tickling the sole as I struggled to protect my vulnerable feet. Pulling my legs back left my pussy exposed, and he swooped in to kiss my vulva, making me gasp. Then he managed to get on top of me, pinning my arms above my head the way he knew I liked.

"Got you!" he crowed victoriously.

"Doesn't change the fact that you jumped," I smirked up at him. "And screamed."

"I did not scream!" Ethan gasped.

"You did!"

"No!" he growled.

"You made a noise," I told him as I lightly struggled against him, not wanting to get free.

"What noise?" Ethan asked.

I attempted something halfway between a grunt and a yelp.

His mouth fell open. "I did not sound like that!"

"You kind of did," I giggled, biting my lower lip as I nodded up at him.

"I hope your ghost shows up," Ethan grumbled, looking down at my smiling face.

"Oh?"

"Yep," he confirmed. "I hope Evelyn Ward walks through that wall right now and scares you so badly that I get to bring up how you screamed for the rest of our lives."

"She wouldn't scare me!" I declared. "I'd be so excited."

"You screamed when that spider fell on you," Ethan reminded me.

"That was a terrifying bug!"

"Arachnid."

"Lick my twat," I stated firmly.

"That a curse or a request?" he arched an eyebrow.

"Hm, a little of both," I replied, wiggling beneath him as I felt his excitement against my thigh.

"You are delicious, so it wouldn't exactly be a chore," Ethan leaned down to peck my lips. "But I'm more interested in revenge teasing you about how you screamed."

"I don't like spiders."

"And you do like dead people?" he frowned.

"Ghosts."

"Dead ghosts," Ethan reasoned.

I frowned. "Are there living ghosts?"

"I'm an engineer, not a ghostologist," he rolled his eyes.

"Ghostologist isn't a word," I pointed out.

"Neither are ghosts," Ethan grinned in victory.

I responded by playfully slapping his naked ass.

He caught my hand. "Careful. Or you'll summon Evelyn."

"She can be summoned by a spanking?"

"Maybe," he shrugged. "She could be a perv who likes watching guests fucking."

"I don't think she could handle the way we fuck," I gave him a smoldering look.

"Is that so?"

"Mmhmm," I nodded seductively. "You'd summon her fast with how often you need to spank me."

"I need to spank you?" he arched an eyebrow.

"You don't have a choice," I whispered and arched my back. "It's my punishment for being such a nasty slut."

"I don't think we're talking about ghosts anymore," Ethan chuckled.

"Are you gonna bring that topic back, or would you rather be a man and shove your cock down my throat?" I challenged.

"Someone's a bad girl," he purred.

"Only for you," I husked. "Treat me like a dirty bitch, and I'll be a good girl for you."

That got him.

Releasing my arms, Ethan sat up and slid up until he was straddling my chest. Grabbing the back of my head, he fed me his cock. Holding my head in both hands, Ethan fucked my face while I grabbed his butt and squeezed. My cheeks caved in as I moaned and sucked as hard as I could.

When he'd been in my mouth for a couple minutes, Ethan pulled out and slid down so he could slide his wet dick between my big tits. Knowing what he wanted, I wrapped my boobs around his shaft so he could give me a titty-fuck. My warm breasts encased his thickness as he thrust through my cleavage.

"You like that, baby?" I cooed up at him. "You like my big titties?"

"Fuck, I love your tits," he grunted, his hands holding the headboard.

"You wanna cum all over me?" I asked. "Cover my pretty face? Or maybe you'd rather see your cum dripping off my tits, hm?"

"Not yet," Ethan growled, his eyes locked on my boobs. "I'm not even close to done with you."

Ethan pulled his dick out of my cleavage and slid down my body. I was more than happy with his decision, so I spread my legs to give him access to my most intimate area. Playfully reaching between my legs, I used two fingers to spread my labia, letting him see my pink center.

"Come have a taste?" I offered eagerly.

"Oh, with pleasure," he husked before burying his face in my wet box.

"Yes!" I hissed, arching my back and grabbing his head in both hands. "Oh God, yes! Eat me!"

My boyfriend knew exactly what buttons to push to maximize my pleasure. He read my cues perfectly; licking me where I wanted to be licked, fingering me when I needed to be stretched, and sucking on my clit with just the right amount of pressure. My nails were digging into his scalp as I bucked my hips, my big boobs flopping around on my chest.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God!" I threw my head back against the pillow as I gasped breathlessly. "Right there, right there! Oh God, don't stop! Don't stop, don't stop! Don't ever stop!"

I lost control over my body as I subconsciously planted my feet on the mattress and lifted my ass in the air. Ethan grabbed both firm butt-cheeks in his hand so he could keep his mouth attached to me. I screamed, my vision failing as my body seized and started bucking wildly.

"Ah! Oh! Nng! Ungh!" I grunted and groaned incoherently as I experienced an intense orgasm on his tongue. "Mmph! Ah! Ah! Ungh! Nng!"

My strength gave out and I collapsed onto the bed. Ethan continued to slowly lick my slit, avoiding my sensitive clit as he eagerly drank my feminine nectar. His fingers squeezed my bum, his face buried in my wetness, like he couldn't get enough of my taste. It made me cum again.

"Fuck me, I need you in me!" I gasped out desperately. "Please! Please be in me, please be in me!"

Ethan sat up and spread my thighs. He then gripped his base and slammed himself into my depths. My body tensed, my back arching as my mouth opened in a silent scream. He held my legs back as he loomed over me, grunting with each thrust into my tight, little pussy.

"Hold your legs back for me," he ordered firmly.

I reacted instantly, grabbing my legs behind the knees and spreading myself open for him. My breathing was ragged as I looked up at him with lust. He switched between watching the expressions on my face, admiring my bouncing boobs, and enjoying the sight of my labia stretching to accommodate his thickness.

"Ah! Ah! Ah!" I chanted, my fingers digging into my skin as my toes curled. "Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!"

"Whose pussy is it?" he asked roughly as he groped me.

"It's yours! Oh God, it's your pussy!" I announced as I had another orgasm. I was more turned on by the dirty talk than him. "It's your pussy, it's your pussy, it's your pussy!"

At the end of my orgasm, I gave him a satisfied smile as I released my legs. Wrapping my long legs around his back, I linked my ankles while rolling my hips to meet his thrusts. My hands ran along his chest, my fingers buried in his sexy chest hair while he squeezed my tits together.

"You feel amazing," Ethan groaned, his eyes closing as he focused on the feeling of my tightness. "You're so hot, so sexy."

"Oh God, I love your cock! Oh, Ethan!" I screamed. "Fuck me, fuck me hard! Make me your nasty, little bitch!"

"You want it from behind?" he asked, using my boobs as handholds to fuck me hard and deep.

"Yes!" I hissed. "Fuck me from behind! Shove it up my cunt, fuck me like a whore!"

I loved rough sex. I loved dirty talk. I loved being a good girl. And a nasty girl. The instant his dick was clear of my pussy, I rolled onto my stomach and got up on all fours. I felt Ethan behind me as he rubbed his tip along my labia, making me shiver. He then gripped my hips and slammed himself back inside.

"Oh, fuck yes!" Ethan groaned as my pussy tightened around him. "You're so fucking tight!"

"You're so deep!" I gasped, tossing my head back. "Pull my hair baby, slap my ass, make me scream!"

Leaning over me, Ethan grabbed my dangling breasts in both hands, squeezing and caressing them before lifting his body again. He spanked me. Hard. I cried out, screaming his name as I arched my back. Then he grabbed a fistful of my raven hair and pulled. My head snapped back, my eyes were scrunched shut as my mouth hung open.

"You like that?" he hissed as he started thrusting.

"Yes!" I gasped out. "Fuck me! Fuck me harder! Pound my pussy!"

Ethan fucked me with all that he had. I was gasping and moaning, my entire body tingling with overwhelming pleasure. He released my hair and held my hips so he could drill me even harder. My big tits were swinging on my chest and slapping each other as I took it from behind. I came and I came and I came.

That was just the beginning.

My boyfriend filled my cunt with his first load of cum. I then got on my back and let him watch as I squeezed the semen out of my hole before eating it. Then I sucked him hard again. Ethan was twenty-nine, not eighteen. But he was still young enough to get it up quite a few times. At least, as long as he had enough stimulation. I was more than willing to provide.

We fucked in every position and on every surface in the motel room. I rode him facing him an in reverse cowgirl. He bent me over a chair and did me until I screamed. I held my legs to my chest as he pounded me from above. We even fucked in front of the mirror in the bathroom so we could watch ourselves.

I lost track of how many orgasms I had, and Ethan came several times. He filled my pussy, he covered my face and tits, and he fed me his tasty sperm. Finally, I spread my butt-cheeks so he could lube up and shove it up my butt. I screamed as I came. Not long after, he tensed and sprayed a final load up my bum.

"We need to do that more often," I whispered as we lay in bed cuddling after a shower.

"I don't know if I can keep up," he chuckled, holding my naked body to him. "I think my balls are sore."

"They worked hard tonight, "I giggled as I pressed myself against him beneath the covers. "And I'm worn out, too. I still can't feel my legs."

"You were so cute wobbling to the bathroom," Ethan smirked, kissing my forehead.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to walk tomorrow," I smirked while tracing shapes on his chest. "You really fucked the shit out of me. Pussy ruined, bum sore."

"Just like you asked for," Ethan pointed out.

"Mm," I sighed happily. "What time is it?"

"Almost eleven," he answered with a yawn.

"Bed?"

"We're already in bed," I giggled. "Did you mean sleep? It is Halloween."

"So?"

"It's Halloween and we're in a haunted motel," I reasoned.

Ethan closed his eyes. "Wake me when Evelyn gets here."

"You can't go to sleep!"

"Watch me," he grumbled. "Guys usually sleep after cumming once. I think I shot off five times."

"You're boring."

"I drove for six hours," Ethan laughed lightly, one eye opening. "And then exchanged in strenuous physical activity."

"Oh, poor you," I laughed and patted his chest.

For another few minutes, we talked about nothing. About our plans for the last of our road trip, what time we wanted to leave in the morning. We discussed if the weather would clear enough to spend time outside tomorrow. Normal things. The kind of conversation a couple had after sex and right before falling asleep.

Eventually, Ethan released my hand and reached toward the lamp on the nightstand. "I'm thirsty. I'm gonna get some water."

"I'll get it," I offered.

"No need. I can-"

I interrupted him. "I have to pee anyway."

I pushed the blanket back and climbed out of bed nude. Raising my hands above my head, I stretched and yawned. Then I put my long hair into a braid so it wouldn't get in my way while sleeping. Ethan took the opportunity to play with my butt-cheeks. I just giggled and let him.

While padding toward the bathroom, I froze in the semi-darkness.

Ethan noticed. "What?"

I listened. Nothing. "I thought I heard something."

He stared at me as I looked over my shoulder and smiled at him.

"Nah, just fucking with you," I laughed before disappearing into the bathroom.

When I came back out a few minutes later, Ethan was playing on his phone. I grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge and took several gulps before bringing it to the bed and handing it to Ethan. Getting under the covers, I snuggled up to him as he drank a few sips before setting the water down.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Ethan frowned as he turned to look at the door. "Who's here this late?"

"Get it, I'm naked!"

"So am I," he grumbled as he got out of bed and stepped into his lounge pants.

I made sure I was fully covered as Ethan made his way to the door. He unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door. Cold, damp air swept into the room, making me shiver. Nobody was there. Ethan stuck his head out and looked down both sides of the covered walkway. I could see rain falling beyond the edge of the awning, lighter than it had been earlier. Water dripped steadily from the roof onto the pavement.

"Hello?" Ethan called out.

"Well?" I asked.

He looked at me as he shut the door. "Don't."

I couldn't stop smiling. "There's nobody there!"

"It was at least a minute before I got the door open," Ethan rolled his eyes and slid the deadbolt back in place.

Excitement flooded me as I got out of bed and did an impromptu naked dance. "There's no one out there, this place is haunted!"

"Somebody probably thought this was their room and tried to open the door or something," Ethan shrugged, although he seemed to be enjoying my dance.

"They knocked, they didn't try opening the door," I pointed out happily.

"Natalie."

"What?" I gave him an innocent look.

"Don't make this a thing," he sighed.

I put a hand against my chest. "I would never!"

"You're already doing it."

I looked around the room. "Evelyn?"

Ethan closed his eyes and sighed.

"Evelyn?" I called again, slightly louder. "Oh, Evelyn! Where are you?!"

"Natalie," he said in exasperation. "Stop summoning the dead woman."

"Did you enjoy the show, Evelyn?" I asked loudly. "You're welcome to join us in bed. It's not usually my thing, but I'll make an exception."

"As much as I'd love a threesome, I don't think that's gonna work," Ethan laughed lightly.

"I guess you'll have to settle with cumming on just one slutty face," I shrugged as I grabbed Ethan's flannel from the floor. "Too bad, so sad."

"I don't think Evelyn would appreciate you calling her a slut," Ethan laughed. "And what are you doing with my shirt?"

"If Evelyn knocks again, I'm gonna get up with you," I explained, placing the shirt on the bedside table.

I climbed back into bed. Ethan shook his head before dropping his lounge pants and joining me beneath the covers. He watched me with amusement as I listened intently, hoping to hear another knock. Nothing. Sighing, I fell back into my boyfriend's arms, my bare breasts squishing against his side.

"Sorry you're disappointed," he said while lightly caressing my cheek. "Although, most people don't want a mysterious knock at a motel to happen again."

"Most people are lame," I reasoned.

"Horror movies are fun. Ah, sometimes," Ethan coughed. "But there's no such thing as ghosts, babe."

"You don't know that."

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Ethan reacted faster than I did, nearly causing me to fall off the bed as he released me and jumped out of bed. His pants were on in seconds, and he crossed the room in three long strides. Unlocking the deadbolt, Ethan yanked the door open as fast as he could.

Nobody. Again.

This time, I didn't smile. Getting out of bed, I quickly put on the flannel and started buttoning it as I approached Ethan. He stepped outside. I followed, the pavement cold against my bare feet. The walkway was empty as rain hit the ground beyond the awning. A truck was three spaces down, but that was it.

Ethan walked as far as Room Eleven, finding nothing. I hugged my arms around myself, the cold already getting to me. My boyfriend came back and walked to Room Fourteen. Also nothing. Ethan turned to look out over the parking lot, but there was no one who could have knocked.

"Anyone there?" Ethan called out.

No response.

A little shiver ran through me. Not quite fear, but not purely excitement either. Something else had joined it. Something colder. I took a step forward. Nothing but a 1950s motel with a mostly-empty parking lot. Each room had a light over the door, so it wasn't pitch black.

"Evelyn?" I called.

Ethan didn't tell me to stop this time.

I took another step out from beneath the awning, causing rain to sprinkle in my hair. "Evelyn Ward?"

Ethan caught my arm. "Nat, you're practically naked and you're calling for a dead woman in the rain."

"When you put it like that-"

"I'm deliberately putting it like that," he said, lightly pulling me back beneath the awning.

Then I heard it.

We both stopped and listened to the soft sound. I whipped my head around as the sound of footsteps reached us. They were slow and measured, like someone was walking steadily. One step. Then another. Then another. I waited anxiously for someone to emerge from where the covered walkway disappeared into shadow.

I moved nearer to Ethan without thinking about it. The footsteps sounded like they were coming from around Room Sixteen. It was almost like the sounds of bare feet on pavement were being amplified so we could easily hear. My heart was racing as my hand found Ethan's and squeezed.

"Nat," Ethan whispered. "Natalie!"

"Wait," I hissed, my eyes darting around.

"Inside," he stated urgently.

Then I saw her. A woman stood beneath one of the yellow lights. Three rooms away; Room Sixteen. I hadn't seen her walk into the light. One moment there was no one, then she was simply there. For a single second, I stupidly thought she was another guest. She looked too ordinary to be anything else.

The woman was young; my age, maybe. Long dark-blonde hair fell loose down her back. She wore a cream-colored nightgown that hung perfectly still to her knees. Standing at the edge of the walkway, she was barefoot as she looked directly at me. Her eyes were a pale blue, and I could somehow tell there was a solemn wisdom contained within them.

Every hair on my arms rose.

"Ethan."

"We need to get inside, Nat," he said, tugging lightly on my hand.

My voice barely worked. "Don't move."

He turned from our motel room to look at me. "Why?"

I couldn't answer. The woman didn't move. Neither did I. Something about her was wrong, but it took me a few moments to figure out what. The rain. She was standing at the very edge of the awning. Rain was falling on her. No. Rain was falling through her. The wind wasn't moving her hair. Or her nightgown. She wasn't getting wet. Nothing was affecting her. Nothing touched her.

"Ethan," I whispered, releasing his hand and pointing. "Look."

He looked at me in concern for a few moments before turning to follow my finger. The change in his face was immediate. Ethan went completely still, his eyes locked on the woman standing beneath the yellow light. Her bare feet, her cream-colored nightgown, the long hair that remained perfectly still. The rain falling through her.

I swallowed. "You see her?"

Ethan didn't answer.

"Ethan?"

"Yeah," he replied, his voice barely a whisper. "Yeah, I see her."

For the first time since we started dating, I didn't feel the urge to tease Ethan or remind him I was right. While a big part of me had believed the supernatural was real, it was something completely different to see the proof with my own two eyes. She was real. Evelyn was a real person who had died in the seventies. Yet her spirit was still around. I could see it.

"Oh my God," I whispered.

Ethan stepped closer to me. "Natalie."

"That's her."

"We don't know that," he said plainly.

"Who else could it be?" I asked.

"I don't know."

"Ethan, look at her," I instructed.

"I am looking at her," his voice was tight and quiet. For the first time, he didn't have a logical explanation.

I stared directly at the woman. "Evelyn?"

The woman's expression changed. Her pale eyes widened as she took a step toward us.

I sucked in a breath. "Are you Evelyn Ward?"

Recognition passed across her face. Pain. She nodded and took another step.

Ethan grabbed me and started pulling me backward. "Inside. Now!"

"Wait!"

"No!" he urged, trying to get me to come with him. "There's a transparent woman walking toward us!"

"Ethan."

"We're leaving," Ethan insisted.

"She's coming toward us," I whispered.

Ethan stopped trying to move me, instead moving to stand in front of me and shield me with his body. "Yeah, I noticed."

Evelyn stopped as Ethan tried to push me back into Room Twelve. She shook her head. Back and forth. Slowly. The excitement was still there somewhere, buried deep beneath everything else. This no longer felt like a fun ghost story we'd stumbled into for Halloween. The woman standing in front of us died over fifty years ago.

And she was trying to tell us something.

The Laurel Lady took another step, causing us to back into the doorway of Room Twelve. She stopped and shook her head.

"She wants us to move," I realized.

"Where?"

"I-I don't know," I winced.

"That's a pretty important detail!" Ethan exclaimed. "Stay behind me!"

Evelyn advanced again. Not quickly or threateningly.

"We're going the wrong way!" my eyes widened. "She wants us to move away from our room."

Ethan guided me away from the door, moving us back toward Room Eleven. Relief flashed across Evelyn's face.

"Maybe she thinks it's still her room and doesn't want us there," Ethan offered.

"Maybe..." I trailed off, unconvinced.

"The car," he hissed. "We need to get to the car."

Our car was parked directly outside Room Twelve. Evelyn's eyes snapped toward it just as Ethan spoke. Her head moved sharply from side to side. Okay, not the car. Despite everything, a nervous laugh escaped me. Evelyn took another step toward us, and Ethan continued to shield me.

"Where the hell does she want us to go?" Ethan asked.

"Let's keep backing up down the rooms," I suggested.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, okay."

We started moving, continuing toward Room Eleven. Evelyn stepped forward until she was standing between Room Twelve and Room Fourteen. She slowly turned, staring at the wall between the two rooms. Her face changed again. She looked frightened. No. She looked terrified. Evelyn took a step backward, her gaze fixated on the blank section of wall.

The light above Room Twelve flickered. Once, twice, three times. The light above Room Fourteen flickered too. Then Eleven. Fifteen. Sixteen next. One after another, the yellow lights along the walkway began blinking above the doors. Ethan pulled me closer as the neon sign across the parking lot went dark.

Then every exterior light died at once.

I grabbed Ethan with both hands. "Ethan!"

"I've got you," he whispered, shielding me with his body. "I've got you."

Darkness swallowed the motel as the soft rain continued to fall. The distant highway was still visible beyond the parking lot, but the Mountain Laurel Motel itself had gone dark. I could hear the rain, I could hear my own breathing. And Ethan's. I could feel the cold as the wet flannel clung to my frame.

There was nothing but us.

Then a light came on. One. A single yellow bulb. It was between Rooms Twelve and Fourteen. The fixture buzzed weakly. There hadn't been a light there before. I knew there hadn't. All the other lights hung over the doors to the rooms. They were all evenly spaced. This one hung beneath the same awning, but it was halfway between Twelve and Fourteen, illuminating a small section of blank wall.

The same blank section Evelyn was staring at, the same horrified look still on her face.

My heart started beating faster. "What the hell?"

Ethan didn't answer.

The bulb flickered twice. Then everything came back on. The motel sign glowed red again, the lights above every door returned. And the new light remained. I stared at it.

"Was that there?"

"No," Ethan answered immediately. "There wasn't a light there."

Evelyn continued staring at the new light, her fear more obvious than ever.

"Evelyn?" I called out.

Her eyes snapped to mine.

"What is it?" I asked.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her face twisted with frustration before she looked back toward the wall. The new light flickered several times before going out. Then every light went out again. A second later they all came back, including the new light. And when they came back, I nearly stopped breathing.

There was a door beneath the new light. Dark green. The same as every other door at the Mountain Laurel. A narrow window sat beside it, the curtains drawn tightly behind the glass. A faded metal chair rested beneath the window. A new room had appeared.

I looked at the small brass number mounted beside the new door.

13.

Room Thirteen.

"No," Ethan whispered.

He wasn't staring at the number; he was staring at the motel. His eyes moved along the roof, then he turned back toward the parking spaces. Back to the doors.

"What?" I frowned.

Ethan took several steps toward Room Twelve, our room. I followed him as he approached Room Thirteen.

Evelyn reacted the instant Ethan walked by the door to Room Twelve. Her mouth opened, but no sound emerged. Her expression was enough.

I grabbed Ethan's arm and pulled him back. "Wait."

"There isn't enough room," he whispered.

"What?"

He pointed. "Twelve and Fourteen were beside each other."

"Yeah, I know," I nodded.

"No, Nat," Ethan shook his head. "They were beside each other. They shared a wall."

I looked toward the motel. Room Twelve appeared exactly as it had before, our door still open the way we'd left it. Fourteen looked the same as well, the door firmly closed. But now an entire motel room sat between them. Fifteen feet wide, at least. Maybe more. Nothing had changed with the roof, the building hadn't gotten longer, and the parking lot hadn't moved. Our car was sitting exactly where we'd left it.

Of course Ethan would notice that. He was a civil engineer. I saw an impossible motel room. He saw fifteen feet of building that couldn't exist.

"How?" I asked quietly.

"I don't know."

Ethan took another step toward the impossible room. Evelyn appeared in front of him.

I screamed.

She hadn't walked. One moment she'd been several yards away; the next, she was standing between Ethan and Room Thirteen.

He stumbled backward. "Holy shit!"

Evelyn didn't look at him; she looked at the door. Then at us. Slowly, she shook her head.

I grabbed Ethan's arm. "I think we should listen to her."

"I could not agree more."

We backed away. Evelyn stayed between us and the door, her form starting to flicker slightly. It was almost like she was losing strength. Suddenly, everything she'd done seemed different. Appearing, walking toward us, stopping Ethan from going back into Room Twelve. She hadn't been trying to scare us. She'd been warning us.

"That's what you wanted," I whispered.

Evelyn looked at me sadly.

"You wanted us away from here."

Her expression softened as she nodded.

I swallowed. "You're trying to protect us."

The light above Room Thirteen flickered. Evelyn spun around, the softness disappearing as she looked at the door in horror. Her entire body went rigid as Ethan pulled me against him. The brass handle to Room Thirteen slowly moved. Evelyn gasped, her eyes widening.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Evelyn turned to face us, her entire form fading. "RUN!"

For half a second, neither of us moved. Then the door to Room Thirteen flew open. Evelyn spun toward it. She was barely visible as she looked into Room Thirteen. There was no motel room on the other side. There was nothing. Pure blackness filled the doorway. Not darkness like an unlit room. I couldn't see a floor, walls, furniture, or even the outline of another space. Just black. Endless black.

Then something inhaled. That's the only way I could describe it. A deep breath came from somewhere beyond the doorway, changing the air around us. Rain stopped falling, each drop momentarily suspended in midair. Then the drops flew sideways, into Room Thirteen.

I screamed for Ethan. He grabbed me as we were pulled. My wet braid lifted first as I stumbled. Ethan held me around the waist as our feet left the ground. Evelyn's form solidified as she was pulled inside, with us following. Water curved beneath the awning and disappeared through the open doorway as we were all pulled into the eternal darkness.

Air flew from my lungs as I hit the floor hard. I couldn't breathe or think or move. Somewhere in the distance, a door slammed shut. Then the pain arrived. My knees, shoulder, hip; everything hurt. I gasped weakly, trying to get air into my lungs. Then I felt a hand grab me.

"Natalie!"

I screamed and twisted.

"Nat! It's me!" Ethan shouted.

I stopped fighting and he pulled me to him. He touched my face, my arms.

"Can you move?" he asked.

"I think so," I mumbled.

"Anything broken?"

"No," I groaned, my breathing coming out in short, panicked gasps.

I opened my eyes and realized we weren't outside anymore. We were in a motel room. A room that looked vaguely liked ours. It was the same size and had the same general layout as the Mountain Laurel room. The door was also the same, but that was where the similarities ended.

Dark wood paneling covered the walls. The carpet beneath my knees was burnt orange and brown, its pattern faded with age. A heavy floral comforter was on the bed and an old television sat on a wooden dresser. The phone on the nightstand was an old rotary phone. An ashtray sat beside it, and I noticed the room smelled faintly of cigarettes.

"What is this?" I asked.

"Room Thirteen," Ethan reasoned as he stood, still only clad in his lounge pants.

I accepted his hands, letting him help me up. Half the buttons from the flannel had been ripped out, leaving the shirt hanging open. I was practically naked. Not exactly great timing. Turning around, I looked at the door, our way out. I hoped. Yet, I somehow felt it was more complicated.

"Let's get out of here," he advised, pulling me toward the door.

"Wait!" I shouted, looking around "Where's Evelyn?"

"Nat, we have to go!"

"Not without Evelyn!" I insisted.

We found Evelyn laying on the other side of the bed. I rushed toward her and dropped down beside her. Up close, she looked differently. I quickly realized it was color. There was color in her face. Her skin was no longer translucent and her hair lay naturally across the carpet. The hem of her nightgown rested against her legs.

I reached toward her and touched her shoulder. She was warm, solid. Evelyn was real.

Her eyes flew upward as she gasped and sat upright. For a moment, she looked as frightened as I felt. Then her eyes found me.

"You shouldn't be here," Evelyn said sadly. "I tried to warn you, but it's so hard to communicate out there."

"You can talk," I whispered as Ethan held my shoulders.

Evelyn looked toward Ethan, then toward the door. "In here. Out there it takes too much energy. A couple words and no one can see me for days, if not longer."

What is this place?" Ethan demanded.

She climbed unsteadily to her feet.

I stood with her. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing," Evelyn answered.

"You're solid," I observed.

"Here, I am."

I stared at her, amazed she seemed to be a living, breathing woman.

Ethan stood beside me, also facing Evelyn. "What is Room Thirteen?"

"I don't know," Evelyn shook her head.

His expression hardened. "You've been haunting this place for fifty years and you don't know?"

"Fifty-two," I corrected lightly.

Pain passed across Evelyn's face. "It's been fifty-two years?"

I nodded slowly. "It's 2026."

She looked down. "Wow."

"You didn't know?" I asked.

"Time is weird here," Evelyn shrugged. "And I don't exactly have a calendar."

I glanced at the old television, then the rotary phone. "This is what the motel looked like when you died."

"Yes," Evelyn nodded.

Ethan stepped closer. "Okay, we can figure all that out later. How do we get out?"

Evelyn looked toward the door. "We find another door."

Ethan frowned. "There's one right there."

"Don't open it!" Evelyn snapped.

"Why?" he frowned.

"Because I don't know where that one goes."

I stared at her. "It's the door we came through."

"No," she shook her head. "There are no permanent doors here."

"What does that mean?" I wondered.

"It means everything changes."

Ethan looked around. "The room?"

"The rooms," she corrected. "The halls. The doors. Sometimes all of it."

"Halls?" I swallowed.

Evelyn looked at me. "Room Thirteen isn't a room."

A chill moved down my spine. "What is it?"

"I don't know," she shook her head.

"You keep saying that," Ethan grunted.

"Because I don't know!" her voice cracked.

Ethan and I both fell silent.

Evelyn closed her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. "I was twenty-seven. On a road trip with, with Tom."

"Tom was your husband?" I couldn't help but ask.

"My boyfriend," she blushed and gave me a faint smile. "My mother would have killed me if she'd known we were sharing a room. I didn't know the year, but I've seen how times have changed. Things were more discreet back then. Tom even checked in without me so no one would know."

Evelyn paused before continuing. "There was no Room Thirteen when we arrived."

"Just like us," I grimaced.

"Yes."

"What happened?" Ethan asked.

"The knocking started," Evelyn answered.

"I thought that was you," Ethan said.

"No," she shook her head. "Interacting physically is so hard and I can only do so much. My only goal was to keep you from being too close to Room Thirteen. I failed."

"I'm sorry," I winced.

"That's why you didn't talk," Ethan realized. "That requires moving air."

"Uh, I guess?" Evelyn frowned.

"Focus," I reminded my boyfriend. Always the curious one. "Now isn't the time. We need to get out of here."

"Anyway," she continued, looking around nervously, "Tom and I had a, um, a romantic night as well." Evelyn's cheeks were bright red. "Then the knocking started and wouldn't stop. We went outside. The lights flickered. A door appeared."

"You were pulled inside like we were," I concluded.

"Yes," Evelyn nodded.

Ethan glanced toward the door. "You got out."

"No," she sighed. "I got killed. Just like Tom."

"What happened to Tom?"

"He was... taken," Evelyn sighed, tears forming in her eyes. "I was dead, outside my body. Then I found the right door."

"What makes it the right one?" Ethan asked.

"It leads back."

He immediately followed up. "Back where?"

"Outside," she answered.

"Where is it?" I asked.

"I don't know."

Ethan stared at her. "You don't know?"

"It moves!" Evelyn took a breath. "This place looks differently every time. After I got out that first time, I was dead and didn't have a body. But, I could still get pulled in. And I do. Every time it appears. Sometimes there are six doors. Sometimes sixty. Once I walked for what felt like three days before I found one."

"You warn people," I sighed.

"I try," she muttered sadly. "It lured you out of Twelve with the knocking. I tried to get you to leave."

"Why us?" Ethan asked.

Evelyn shook her head. "It wasn't you. It doesn't choose people. At least I don't think it does. It appears. If someone's close enough when it does..."

"They end up here," Ethan finished.

"Yes."

"What happens to them?" my boyfriend questioned.

Evelyn didn't answer.

Evelyn," I whispered.

Her pale blue eyes met mine. "They die."

I squeezed Ethan's hand.

"How many?" he asked.

"I don't know," she sighed. "Not everyone who comes in here meets me. Not everyone finds the same rooms. Not everyone is even pulled in from the same place. Sometimes I hear them, sometimes I find what they leave behind."

"What do you mean?" I asked quietly.

Evelyn looked toward the far wall. "Phones. Clothes. Bags. Keys. Whatever they were carrying when it took them."

My mouth went dry. "So there are other people in here?"

"No," she answered. "It hunts them, takes them. Then they're gone. If I find them first, I try and help them escape."

"So you have gotten people out of here?" I asked, feeling relief.

"I've never succeeded in getting someone out alive."

I felt ice in my veins.

"What kills them?" Ethan asked.

Evelyn went very still, looking genuinely afraid. "Something lives here."

"What is it?" Ethan wondered, holding me close.

"I have no idea," she shook her head. "I just call it The Guest."

"What does it look like?" I asked in a small voice.

"Different," Evelyn answered. "It uses the people it takes. Their faces, their voices, the things they remember. It likes taunting me by looking like Tom. It talks like Tom, even has his memories. It is not Tom."

I felt sick. "Why?"

"To torture," she shrugged. "That's the only explanation I have. It likes inflicting pain. I've seen... what it really looks like. A few times. It's... a monster."

A soft sound came from somewhere in the room. All three of us froze.

"What was that?" I asked quickly.

Evelyn's eyes moved toward the bathroom. The door was closed. She raised a finger to her lips. "We need to move."

"Why?" I whispered as quietly as I could.

Evelyn continued staring at the bathroom. "Because it knows we're here."

Suddenly, the old television turned on, causing me to jump. Static filled the screen as a harsh hiss broke the silence. The static on the screen eventually changed to an image. A motel parking lot. The Mountain Laurel. But not our Mountain Laurel. The cars were old. Huge sedans with chrome bumpers.

A man walked into view, a handsome guy in his late twenties or early thirties. He opened the passenger side door of one of the cars, helping a woman out. A woman with long dark-blonde hair. Evelyn. The two approached Room Twelve and unlocked the door. They went inside.

The scene changed. Evelyn gasped and blushed. I wanted to look away, but I didn't. Evelyn and the man were making love. When they finished, they held each other close and exchanged sweet words. Then they made love again. They were happy and in love. Everything was perfect.

Until the knocking started. The man pulled on pants and a robe while Evelyn dressed in a nightgown. The knocking continued, driving them from Room Twelve. We saw the same flickering that led to Room Thirteen appearing. Evelyn and Tom were pulled inside.

"Turn it off," Evelyn whispered as she appeared on screen with Tom, the two of them inside what looked like a castle dungeon. "Please."

Ethan ran to the television and grabbed the knob, but it wouldn't turn off.

"Evelyn?" I whispered.

"TURN IT OFF!"

"I'm trying!" Ethan shouted.

Then a little girl appeared. It started talking with Tom and Evelyn, but we couldn't hear what was said. The couple seemed calm at first, but horror quickly appeared on their faces. Tom was screaming at the little girl. Then there was a middle-aged man in the child's place. He punched Tom, sending him careening backward. Evelyn ran to help him.

That's when the middle-aged man changed.

I screamed.

The Guest was at least eight feet tall and impossibly thin. Long arms reached to its knees, ending in sharp clawed fingers. Gray-black skin seemed to absorb the light. Its head was vaguely human-shaped, but it kept changing. An old man. A young man. A woman. The eyes and nose would vanish before the mouth sank back into the smooth surface. Another face appeared somewhere wrong.

It grabbed Tom, its claws digging into his shoulders. Evelyn bravely charged it, punching and kicking. The Guest wouldn't release Tom. Its right hand plunged into Tom's chest, ripping his heart right out. Evelyn screamed on screen as the real Evelyn screamed beside us.

The claws lashed out, ripping Evelyn's cream nightgown from her body. She tried to run, but there was no point. Claws dug into her back, sending her sprawling to the ground. Evelyn turned onto her back, just in time for The Guest to get on top of her and slash her from chest to groin, completely ripping her apart.

The Guest then turned and looked directly into the camera. As it did so, it transformed. Into Tom. A wide grin was on its face. Evelyn made a sound beside me. Not a scream; more like a pained whimper. The Guest started speaking, but we couldn't hear Tom's voice; it was being drowned out by static.

The screen went black.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Not from the motel-room door, but from the bathroom.

I ran to Ethan and grabbed his arm. "Is that it?"

She didn't answer.

"Evelyn!" I shouted.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Evelyn backed toward us, terror on her face. "Yes."

The bathroom doorknob began to turn.

Evelyn grabbed my hand. "Now we run."

"Where?" I asked.

"The other door!"

"You said not to use it!" Ethan shouted.

"I said I didn't know where it went," Evelyn countered.

"That's not better!" he growled.

"Anywhere is better than here!" she shouted as the doorknob stopped turning. "Too late."

The door opened an inch, darkness filling the narrow gap. There was no white tile, no shower curtain, no sink. Just black. The same impossible blackness I'd seen when Room Thirteen pulled us inside. Ethan pushed me behind him as a hand appeared around the edge of the door. At least, I thought it was a hand.

Five long fingers curled around the wood. They were long, thin, with black-gray skin. Each finger had an extra joint. Another hand appeared higher on the frame. Then an arm. It was much too long. The Guest had to bend to fit through the doorway. Its head was smooth, just skin.

Then something moved beneath it. I made a sound and backed into Ethan. A shape pushed outward from beneath the flesh. A nose. Lips. Cheekbones. Eyes. Like someone trapped beneath a sheet. Then the features sharpened. A woman's face emerged. Her eyes opened. She looked directly at me.

"Help me."

I froze. Her voice was human.

The face sank back into The Guest's head. Another replaced it.

An old Asian man. "Please."

A young black woman. "Don't leave me."

A man. A teenager. Another woman. Faces surfaced and disappeared, each of them speaking with a different voice. All of them terrified.

"Please."

"Help me."

"Open the door."

"I want to go home."

"Please."

"Please."

"Please."

"Don't listen to it," Evelyn whispered.

The faces disappeared, its head becoming smooth again. The Guest took one step out of the bathroom, its bare foot touching the carpet. It then turned its blank head toward her. It stopped. Something moved beneath its face again. Evelyn went rigid as its entire body changed.

This time its entire body changed. It shrank, becoming more normal. A man. No, not just any man. Tom.

Evelyn had gone completely white as she stared at a perfect copy of Tom. It wore no clothes, and was clearly him.

The man smiled. "Hello, Evie."

Evelyn stumbled backward.

The Guest's smile widened. "It's been a long time."

Tears cascaded down Evelyn's cheeks. "No."

"Fifty-two years."

"Stop!" she screamed.

"You left me here," The Guest took another step. "You ran."

"You're not him!" Evelyn screeched.

The man's expression softened. "I waited for you, Evie. For so long."

"Please stop," Evelyn whimpered.

"You promised you wouldn't leave me," The Guest whispered in Tom's voice.

"STOP!"

The Guest smiled. "Join me. We can be together. Forever."

"No," Evelyn shook her head. "No, I don't know how, I don't know why... but I'll save as many people from you as I can?"

"Save them?" The Guest chuckled. "My dearest Evie, you couldn't even save yourself."

Ethan moved. He stepped between Evelyn and The Guest. "That's enough!"

The Guest's head tilted, studying Ethan. Then Tom's face sank away, the smooth skin returning. Someone else pushed through. The penis vanished, replaced with a vulva. Pecs became large breasts as auburn hair flowed from the head. The Guest was a beautiful woman who looked about nineteen or twenty. Long red hair, large tear-shaped breasts, green eyes. Every inch of her screamed seductress.

"Ethan," a smoky female voice whispered.

"Okay, that's fucked up," Ethan said, taking a step back.

"Join me," The Guest whispered.

"I think I'll pass, thanks," he shook his head.

"I was watching, you know," The Guest purred. "I enjoyed the show, the way you just took your woman. It made me wet. Join me, both of you. I can take you to heights of pleasure you never knew existed."

"I'm gonna be sick," I said.

"Don't talk to it!" Evelyn hissed.

"Yes, don't talk," The Guest agreed. "Come closer. Come closer and we can do every nasty thing you can think of."

"We have to get out of here," Evelyn hissed, grabbing both of our hands.

"You make it sound like you have a choice," The Guest laughed.

Evelyn dragged us toward the exterior door. The laughter of The Guest filled the motel room as Ethan reached out and grabbed the knob.

"Wait!" I exclaimed.

He looked at me. "What?"

I stared at the door. "What if it goes somewhere worse?"

The Guest took a step toward us, still in the form of a gorgeous, nude redhead.

Evelyn looked over her shoulder. "It won't."

"You said you don't know where it goes!" I screeched.

"I don't, but nothing is worse than staying in a room with it," Evelyn insisted.

"Sounds right to me!" Ethan said as he yanked the door open.

There was no parking lot. Of course there wasn't. A hallway stretched endlessly away from us in both directions. The corridor was narrow and impossibly long. Burnt-orange carpet ran beneath fluorescent lights. Dark wood paneling covered the walls, and doors lined both sides. Dozens. Hundreds. Each had the same brass number.

13.

"Go!" Evelyn shoved us through the door.

Behind us, the Guest laughed. "Evie."

Evelyn turned. Tom stood inside the motel room. Not The Guest. At least, that's what my eyes told me. He was dressed in a suit, a bouquet of roses in his hands.

"Evie," he whispered. "Please, don't leave me."

"FUCK YOU!" Evelyn screamed and slammed the door in its face.

Boom! The door shook, but remained closed.

"Can it get through?" I asked Evelyn.

"I don't think so," she shook her head. "I've never seen it open a closed door."

I stared at her.

"It can move between rooms, change them, change what you see, what you hear. But it's never opened a closed door," Evelyn insisted. "It likes scaring you, torturing you. What you saw on screen, that's what happened. But there was a lot in between it edited out."

"That's why it knocks," I whispered.

"Yes," Evelyn nodded. "Never open a door because you hear someone behind it. I don't care whose voice you hear."

"If you hear someone you love, ignore them. If you hear yourself, run."

"Why?" I asked.

"You don't want to know," she said breathlessly. "It can only take on the form of someone its killed. At least as far as I can tell. But it can copy anyone's voice. Yours. A loved one's. There's no way it ever met my grandma, but it copied her voice. So it must be able to read minds to some extent.

"Sometimes it forms clothes, other times not. It'll chase you down a hallway as a naked ninety year-old woman with tits swinging at her knees if it thinks that'll freak you out."

Evelyn continued. "Don't answer when it talks to you. Don't tell it anything. Stay together. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to close a door. You close it."

Ethan looked at the endless corridor. "And the exit?"

"We find Twelve," Evelyn answered. "A door marked Twelve."

I looked at the nearest doors. Every one of them was marked Thirteen.

"Twelve will take us back to the motel?" Ethan asked.

"Not necessarily," she winced. "It hunts all over the world. The door marked Twelve will take you out randomly. To one of its hunting grounds. I'm a ghost, so I'll bounce back to where I died, but you're alive. If you get out, I imagine you'll be stuck wherever you end up."

"Well, anywhere is better than here," Ethan reasoned.

"There's one more thing," Evelyn said. "If you see something that looks like something familiar, don't trust it."

"No kidding," Ethan muttered.

"I don't mean The Guest."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Evelyn looked down the endless hallway. "Room Thirteen lies too."

Before I could ask what the hell that meant, a telephone rang. Far down the corridor. Another telephone then started ringing behind a different door. Then another. Within seconds, phones were ringing behind dozens of doors, maybe hundreds. The sounds echoed all around us as the doors started shaking.

Evelyn's face tightened. "Move."

Behind us, somewhere among the ringing phones, a woman's voice called my name. "Natalie?"

I nearly stopped, but Ethan kept pulling me along.

It was my mother's voice. "Natalie, honey?"

"Keep moving!" Evelyn urged.

Then the voice became frantic. "Natalie!"

We ran.

Another voice joined it. My own.

"Oh God, I love your cock! Oh, Ethan!" I screamed. "Fuck me, fuck me hard! Make me your nasty, little bitch!"

I could hear the sounds of myself having sex with Ethan as we ran. His hand tightened around mine. We didn't look back as we heard ourselves in the throes of passion. Then we cut out and were replaced by Tom's voice. He was grunting. Evelyn was moaning. A slapping sound echoed out; I knew spanking when I heard it. I only had one thought as we kept running down the endless hallway.

The Guest was a serious pervert.

The ringing followed us as we ran. Telephone after telephone sounded behind the doors as we raced down the corridor. Some had a harsh metallic ring, others sounded newer. There were electronic chirps, musical tones, a cell phone. The sound was so normal that it was somehow worse.

Evelyn ended up several feet ahead of us, her nightgown fluttering around her legs. I held Ethan's hand as we followed her, the wet remains of the flannel clinging to me.

"How far?" Ethan called.

"I don't know!"

"You've been here before!" he reasoned.

"Not this hallway!"

"What?" Ethan asked.

"I told you! It changes!"

Evelyn stopped so abruptly that Ethan nearly ran into her.

"What?" I questioned.

"Quiet!" Evelyn hissed.

The phones stopped ringing. All of them at once. Silence fell over us to the point I could hear myself breathing. Even Evelyn breathed in this place. Nothing happened for several moments, then the light directly above us went out. I looked up and swallowed weakly.

"Evelyn?" I gulped.

"Don't move," she instructed.

Another light went out; the one farthest away from us. Then another, one light closer. Darkness was moving toward us one fluorescent fixture at a time.

Evelyn reached out and took my hand. "Walk."

"Walk?" I repeated.

"Yes," she said. "Don't run."

Ethan cleared his throat. "Why?"

"Because I said so."

Another light died.

We walked. The lights went out at the perfect speed to keep us from getting away. If we sped up, so did the darkness.

"What happens if it catches us?" I asked.

"I don't know," she shook her head.

"Should we run now?" Ethan suggested.

"No, that's what it wants!"

The light directly behind us flickered. Evelyn stopped. Only one fluorescent fixture separated us from the darkness. The bulb buzzed, flickered, and stayed on. Nothing moved beyond it. Just black. Evelyn took one step forward. The light remained on. She took another step. It stayed on.

"Walk," she whispered.

We obeyed. The darkness followed, continuing to match our pace.

My stomach twisted. "It's playing with us."

"Yes."

"What happens if we run?" Ethan wondered.

"I don't intend to find out," Evelyn answered.

"Evelyn, how did you not end up part of it like the others?" I asked as we walked.

"I really don't know," she shook her head. "I remembered the pain of getting ripped open. There was blood everywhere. I felt cold, then darkness. I just couldn't let go. I kept pulling, back toward my body. Then I was back at the Mountain Laurel. Only no one could see me."

"The others, the ones it killed," Ethan said. "It consumed their souls or something?"

"That's what I always assumed, yes," Evelyn answered.

"Then when you escape this place, you go back to the motel?" I questioned her gently.

"Yeah," she confirmed as we kept walking. "I'll end up in some random hunting ground of The Guest. Then there's this pulling sensation and I'm back at the Mountain Laurel."

Most of the doors looked exactly like the doors at the Mountain Laurel. Others didn't. One was painted bright blue, another was heavy wood with an old-fashioned brass knob. One looked like the door to a modern hotel room, complete with an electronic card reader. Another had peeling white paint and a rusted chain lock hanging from it. All were labeled 13.

"These aren't all from the motel," I observed. "Whatever this place is, it didn't start in 1974."

"Definitely not," Evelyn agreed with a nod. "It likes to talk. A lot. It's mentioned being around when we first started making fire."

"That's encouraging," Ethan grunted sarcastically.

Something crunched beneath my bare foot. "Ow!"

"Natalie?" Ethan whispered, catching me as I lift my foot.

Something small and rectangular lay on the carpet. A modern cell phone. Its screen was shattered.

"Don't touch it!" Evelyn warned.

"Why not?" I frowned.

"Because it isn't yours."

I looked down the hallway and noticed other things. A few yards farther ahead was a woman's sneaker. Nearby was a set of keys. We kept moving, discovering more and more items. A leather wallet, a pair of glasses, a baseball cap. Some of the items looked old. Very old. We passed a small iron chisel that was so crude, it may well have been one of the first iron tools.

"Those are from people it took," Ethan observed. "How many?"

"I don't know."

"Hundreds?" he suggested.

"I don't know!"

"Thousands?" Ethan asked.

"I said I don't know!"

Evelyn's voice echoed down the hallway. We all stopped as her face changed. "Oh, no."

Her last word kept coming back to us.

"Know."

"Know."

"Know."

The third time it wasn't Evelyn's voice. It was mine.

The next echo came from behind us in my voice. "I don't know!"

Then Ethan's voice. "I don't know."

Next was a man's voice I didn't recognize. "I don't know."

A woman, a child, an old man. Dozens of voices began whispering from behind the doors.

Evelyn resumed walking. "Don't answer."

"We know," Ethan said.

Every whisper stopped.

Evelyn spun around. "Shit! What did I tell you?"

"I wasn't talking to it!" Ethan yelled.

"It doesn't care!"

"That rule doesn't even make sense!" Ethan yelled.

The remaining lights all flickered as every door in the hallway rattled at once. I screamed.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Every door. Both sides. Over and over.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"RUN!" Evelyn screamed.

We ran.

Lights burnt out one after another, doors shook in their frames as voices called from everywhere.

"Natalie!"

"Ethan!"

"Evie!"

"Help me!"

"Please!"

"Wait!"

We ran harder, faster. The carpet burned beneath my bare feet.

The corridor changed. One second it was straight, the next there was an intersection. Evelyn went left and we followed. The instant we crossed into the new corridor, the noise stopped.

I stumbled.

Ethan caught me. "Keep going!"

"I can't," I gasped.

"Yes, you can," he urged.

"My feet-" I groaned, falling forward on my hands and knees. My lungs were burning.

Ethan was breathing almost as hard. Evelyn looked fine. Apparently being dead had some advantages. It took me a few minutes to catch my breath. My fingers clenched at the carpet as I struggled to recover. I looked behind us and noticed the corridor we'd come through was gone. There was just a wall.

"We came from there," I sighed.

A framed landscape painting hung where the hallway had been. Ethan walked toward it.

"Don't," Evelyn said. "It's gone. We're somewhere else."

Ethan knelt beside me as I sat up. He wrapped an arm around me. "You okay?"

"No."

"Me neither," he laughed nervously.

Then I noticed Evelyn staring at us. "What?"

For a moment, her expression softened. "Just make sure to stay close to each other. That's how it separates people."

"Tom?" I asked.

"Yeah," Evelyn nodded. "It did horrible things to me. Then it let us find each other just so we could watch each other die."

A sound came from farther down the hallway. We all turned, but there was nothing.

Evelyn started walking. "Come on, we need to keep going."

This next corridor was different. Narrower. The wood paneling had been replaced by pale wallpaper patterned with tiny blue flowers. The carpet was dark green, and small brass fixtures lined the walls instead of fluorescent lighting. As per usual, all the doors were marked Thirteen.

"What decade is this?" Ethan frowned.

"I'm not sure that's how it works," I said.

"We have to keep going," Evelyn urged us onward. "The longer you're hear, the more it learns."

"What does that mean?" I asked as we followed Evelyn down the hall.

"It learns your memories, your fears, the people you love," she continued. "Places and things that make you feel safe. Right now it used you having sex because it actually observed that. It can see the areas it hunts."

"So it will try and make us feel safe so we open the wrong door?" I frowned, my hand gripping Ethan's tightly.

"It might," Evelyn nodded. "Or it can use a bad memory to torture you for fun, or to make you run out the wrong door in horror. It might also invent something. I don't need to explain to you some of the best ways to torture a woman."

Horror filled me as I realized what Evelyn had been through. "No, you don't."

"I can't die twice, but I can still hurt," Evelyn said in a small voice.

"Let's keep going," I swallowed weakly.

A few minutes later, a soft music started. It was coming from behind one of the doors farther down. I knew the song. Christmas morning. My mother used to play it every year while we opened presents. My heart was pounding as I realized I might never see my mother again.

"You recognize that," Ethan looked at me.

"It's starting," Evelyn said.

"What?" I asked.

Evelyn stared down the hallway. "It's building somewhere for you."

The music grew louder as a warm yellow light appeared beneath the door. A dog barked from behind the door. My childhood dog. The one we had to put down years ago. Cancer. My mother's voice called out for me, urging me to go inside. The dog kept barking as I heard my father's laughter.

"That's my-"

"Don't say who!" Evelyn hissed, grabbing my hand. "Look at me."

I looked into Evelyn's eyes as she kept talking. "This is NOT your home. That's not your mother."

The Christmas music was incredibly loud, drawing my intention back to the door. Then the door across from it. That door had changed. It was light pink. And my name was written on it. A sign I'd made myself, so many years ago. Evelyn saw my face, my horror.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing out there?" my mother's voice called out. "Come inside, honey. Let's play with your dolls."

Evelyn grabbed us. "Keep going!"

We ran. Something started running behind us. Fast, heavy steps. I didn't look back. Ethan's hand was wrapped around mine. Evelyn darted ahead of us. The hallway changed around us as we moved. Wallpaper became wood paneling again. Then wood paneling changed to faded yellow paint. Green carpeting became brown, then orange, then some ugly geometric pattern.

Doors flashed past. All of them labeled Thirteen.

"FASTER!" Evelyn screamed.

I didn't have faster. My lungs burned, my bare feet hurting so badly that I suspected they were bleeding. The thing was gaining on us. It was closer. Too close. Then I felt it. Something tried to claw me, but it only hit the flannel, tearing the back of the barely-together shirt. I screamed.

"Natalie!" It called out in Ethan's voice. "Come back here, be a good girl!"

"Shut up, you sick fuck!" I screamed.

"DON'T TALK TO IT!" Evelyn screeched.

"You jealous, Evie?" Tom's voice returned as we kept running. "Don't worry, baby, I'll fuck you until you can't remember your own name."

"Don't listen!" Ethan shouted, pulling me along. Somehow we stayed ahead of it.

"Join us!" the seductive redhead purred, her voice echoing all around us.

The corridor turned sharply. Evelyn disappeared around the corner, with Ethan and I following. We collided with her, nearly causing all three of us to fall. She had stopped.

"Why did you stop?" I asked.

"Quiet!" Evelyn urged.

The footsteps had stopped, nothing was chasing us. I bent forward, hands on my knees as I gasped for breath. The flannel shirt was in tatters, my right breast hanging out of it. Ethan wasn't in much better shape. Evelyn looked fine as she stared around at the large room.

We were in a circular room with a couple dozen doors. Each one was a different color and design. They weren't all marked Thirteen. They were numbered from One to Twenty-Seven. I scanned for Twelve. It was there! A neon green door with a dark green Twelve near the top.

"There!" I exclaimed. "It's there!"

"That's the right one, I can feel outside," Evelyn nodded.

"Let's get out of here," Ethan nodded, before turning to Evelyn. "Thank you. Thank you for helping us. I don't know where we'll end up, but we'll probably never see you again."

"No!" I gasped. "We have to save you too!"

"You can't," Evelyn shook her head. "I'm dead, there's no saving me."

"You don't have to stay trapped in this nightmare!" I exclaimed. "There has to be a way."

"Thank you, but-"

"EVIE!" The Guest screamed as it appeared in the middle of the room.

No stolen faces were on its smooth skin. A mouth appeared on its face, spreading obscenely and opening to reveal sharp teeth.

"GO!" Evelyn shouted. "Go now. I'll hold it off."

"We can't leave you!" I screamed.

"It can't kill me twice," Evelyn insisted, stepping forward and putting herself between us and The Guest.

She gave us a clear path to the door.

"What's it going to do to you?" I couldn't help but ask.

Evelyn looked over her shoulder at us, a sad expression on her face. "You don't want to know. I hope we meet again somehow. Goodbye, Natalie. Goodbye, Ethan."

The brave woman then threw herself at The Guest. Before I could react, Ethan grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward the door. It took all of my strength to follow. We ran for the door as the screams started. Horrible, unnatural sounds that indicated unspeakable things happening to Evelyn. To our friend. She was being ripped apart by those terrible, terrible claws.

Ethan reached the door and tried to open it. It wouldn't budge.

"AAARRRGGGHHH!" Evelyn screamed behind us. "KNOCK! KNOCK!"

I raised my fist and knocked three times.

The lock clicked. Ethan threw open the door, causing cold rain to hit my face. The Mountain Laurel parking lot waited on the other side. Our car. The red motel sign in the distance. Not only had we found the way out, we'd found the way back to the right hunting ground of The Guest.

"GO!" Evelyn screeched before a horrible choked gurgling noise escaped her.

Ethan pulled me through. We fell onto the wet concrete. Rain hit me. Real rain. Cold, wonderful rain. I spun around. Door Twelve stood open, revealing the inside of our motel room, our belongings included. To the left was Room Eleven. To the right, was Room Fourteen.

"EVELYN!" I shouted, knowing The Guest still had her.

"Natalie," Ethan sighed as I found the wall between Twelve and Fourteen.

I pounded against the wall. "Evelyn!"

Ethan grabbed me from behind. "Nat, let's go."

"No!"

"She's gone," he insisted, dragging me away.

Ethan carried me into Room Twelve kicking and screaming. I was a mess. My feet were bleeding, my tit was hanging out of the remains of my flannel, and I was hysterical. I sobbed and slammed my fist onto the carpet as I cried until I had no more tears.

When I was finished, I looked up at Ethan.

"We have to get out of here," Ethan said quietly.

"I know."

We were dressed in under three minutes. Neither of us bothered packing properly. I shoved clothes into my bag without folding them. Ethan grabbed our chargers, toiletries, and anything else he could see while I pulled on my shoes. I didn't care that everything looked normal again; we had to get out of there.

Ethan packed the car while I stood outside sobbing. Once we were ready to go, he approached me. I knew I was a mess. Rather than rush us out of there, Ethan wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly. The tears were falling freely as I shivered against him.

I buried my face against his chest. "She's still in there."

"I know."

"We left her!" I wailed.

"She made us leave," he replied. "She saved us, Nat."

I pulled back and wiped my eyes. "I know."

"Do we tell Ray?"

"Tell him what?" I asked. "Should we call him and say 'hi, your motel grew an extra room and a ghost saved us from a soul-stealing, face-stealing nightmare?"

"Right," he winced.

"We'll go," I stammered. "But we won't abandon Evelyn. We'll research. Maybe find a way to fight this thing."

"Agreed."

"And, Ethan?" I said quietly.

"Yes?"

"We're naming our firstborn Evelyn," I told him firmly.

"What if it's a boy?" he grinned.

"Fuck you."

The office was closed, but we were able to slide our key cards into a little slot to check out. WE got in the car and Ethan started driving. For a few minutes, the only sounds were the windshield wipers keeping away the soft rain. At least it wasn't pouring any longer. I rested my head against the seat.

"Natalie?" Ethan said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Next Halloween?" he began.

I looked at him. He kept his eyes on the road.

"We stay home."

A smile tugged at my mouth. "We could. Stay in and watch horror movies."

Ethan groaned. "Fine, but one condition."

"What?" I wondered.

"When I jump, you don't make fun of me," Ethan glanced at me.

I smiled. "No promises."