I was an overnight receptionist at a remote hotel in…
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I was an overnight receptionist at a remote hotel in Alaska. Our guests weren’t normal.
I worked overnight reception at one of the less popular hotels in REDACTED,Alaska. I’ve been at this job for a year now, and until yesterday I thought everything I experienced was just your typical run of the mill small town weirdo hotel stuff. Most of the population is older folks, people who had lived here for years. Same with the ones who visited. I’d always had an affinity for older people, I was raised by my grandparents.
At first the incidents didn’t freak me out that much. One night about a month after I started, it was about 2:00am; and I had 6 more hours left to go. It has been an uneventful shift so far, a couple phone calls asking for more ice, people needing to replace a room key. Typical. The lobby had been empty for hours at this point.
I remember the phone ringing, it showed room number 44. After I finished giving the typical intro speech, I was met with the sound of heavy breathing. When they finally did answer they spoke in a dry hushed voice.
“Don’t let him in.” And then the line disconnected.
Before I had a chance to press redial I heard a loud banging coming from the fire exit door. With every second it got more intense, until I heard a voice call out “let me in please, it’s cold out here.”
We were a cheap hotel, we didn’t employ a security guard, let alone have any security cameras, and I was not about to go out there and check who it was. As far as I knew every guest was accounted for.
The voice eventually petered out just like the banging had. It wasn’t until the next day I realized, we didn’t have a room 44.
You may be thinking why I would stay on after that. To tell you the truth I didn’t have much of an option. Jobs here are extremely limited, and unless I wanted to commute 2-3 hours to the next big city, I was out of luck.
There were a couple other unsettling things that happened after that, phone calls from guests that weren’t actually staying here, wet footprints in the lobby when I hadn’t seen anybody walk by, and every now and then I would experience something I could only describe as time loss.
At first I thought that I had dozed off. But then it kept happening when I was obviously awake. I’d go to the bathroom and come back and a whole hour had passed, and I had no memory of that hour.
When I would talk to my boss about these things he chalked it up to sleep deprivation, or kids playing pranks. Which I had accepted, until yesterday.
The shift started off somewhat normal, working at a hotel things are rarely ever truly “normal.”I got in at 10:00pm, caught up with the dayshift receptionist, Amy, and downed whichever cheap energy drink I had picked up at the gas station on my way here.
“Just so you know, there is a woman that keeps coming down asking for ice. I’ve given her like 4 buckets already. So don’t be surprised if she asks you for more.”
“What room is she in?”
“I have no idea, she won’t tell me. I tried telling her that there is an ice machine on every floor, but she insists on coming down each time”.
Like I said, the guests here can be a little weird. But nothing to immediately set off any alarm bells.
Amy had been long gone, and I had totally forgot about ice women, when I heard someone clear their throat. I had been sitting at reception that whole time, doing some admin stuff on the computer.
I didn’t hear her footsteps come down the hall, or even the elevator open. It’s as if she just appeared.
“Is-is Amy still here?”
I told her Amy had left and asked if I could help her with anything. She seemed off put for a minute, before a look that I could only describe as a mixture of fear and desperation came over her.
“I’d like a bucket of ice please.”
Looking back I should’ve just given her the bucket of ice, it was way above my pay grade to investigate. But I couldn’t help myself, I kept pushing.
“Ma’am, we have already given you four buckets of ice, and there is an ice machine on every floor. Is there a reason you need all this ice? What are you using it for?”
She looked like she was about to argue, when she visibly withered in front of me, and said in a voice that had long given up,
“He needs it. He prefers the cold”.
People can be weird. I couldn’t imagine what they were doing with that ice. So I asked her what room she was staying it. She opened her mouth to respond and then froze. She was staring straight ahead, looking at me, but it really felt like she was looking through me.
For a second I thought she had had a stroke, I walked over to put my hand on her shoulder. It was icy to the touch and leather hard. She jolted at my touch.
“Ma’am, what room are you staying in? I think you may need medical help.”
“Room 44.”
My mouth went dry and I couldn’t swallow as I was processing this information. When I finally spoke again it took a tremendous effort.
“There is no room 44.”
She merely looked at me, and said “He would like to see you now.”
She gestured to the bucket we used for ice sitting in the corner, and for me to follow. Complying felt easier than arguing at this point, I suddenly felt exhausted. Everything took effort.
The bucket of ice banged against my shins as I followed her into the elevator. She pressed the button for the 4th floor and we started moving slowly. I was looking at my feet, I could feel her eyes burning into me. I didn’t want to meet them.
The ding of the doors opening brought me back to reality, and we stepped into the hallway. I immediately sensed something wasn’t right. The fluorescent lights were flickering, some completely disconnected. As we started walking down the hallway the floor was damp, sticky, and smelled like mildew.
Everything seemed yellowed, whereas before it was a bright clean white. As we slowly passed by each room I started taking account. The hallway didn’t seem any longer than usual.
37,38,39,40.
And then we somehow turned a corner, when it should’ve stopped, and there in front of us was room 44. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. As long as I had worked here there had been 4 floors, with 10 rooms on each floor.
The door itself looked exactly like all the other doors on the floor. Dark green, brass handle, pretty standard.
As we approached the door I could feel the temperature drop. It felt like I was standing outside. The carpet here was drenched.
“Come in, take the ice to the bathroom, and whatever you do, don’t let him touch you.”
I don’t know why, but I walked into the room. It’s almost liked I was pulled in there. The mildew smell increased tenfold. All the blankets were stuffed into a corner and the bed has been pushed directly under the open window. The door to the bathroom was ajar, and water was seeping out. My footsteps crunched under me as I walked up to the bathroom. Frost.
“Oh hello, I’ve been expecting you. Thank you for bringing me ice.”
An ancient looking old man covered in a towel lay in the bathtub, covered almost to his chin in water that had visible chunks of ice in it.
“Before you add any more ice would you be so kind as to hand me another towel, I’d like to use it as a pillow for my neck.”
His request seemed so simple and innocent that my body reacted before my brain could. As soon as I leaned over the tub to hand him a towel his arm shot out and grabbed my ankle yanking me to the floor. An icy pain shot through my leg as I fell.
I tried to pull away but his grip was too strong and I kept slipping on the slick floor. The old man seemed to grow and started to loom over me, his skin spitting in half like a cocoon as he stood up. He kept pulling me closer, trying to drag me into the tub with him. I frantically reached around for anything I could use to defend myself.
My hands met with a hair dryer that had fallen in the scuffle. The hotel provides one in each bathroom. I remembered what the woman told me in the lobby, he likes it cold.
With a last ditch effort I plug it in and turned it on full blast directing it towards what was an old man, but now was a black mass stretched tightly over a skeletal figure. Where his eyes were, now stood hollow voids. No mouth visible, yet it was making a sound like it was laughing.
As soon as the heat touched its “skin.” It recoiled letting go just long enough for me to jump up and start running.
I slammed the bathroom door behind me and sprinted across the room. Screeches following me, the lady didn’t even try to stop me, her eyes just followed me with a pitying look.
The elevator doors closed just in time for me to hear footsteps coming after me. I didn’t breathe until I was on the road driving home, and even then I kept checking my rearview mirror to make sure nothing was following me. As soon as I got home I took the hottest bath I could, texted my boss “I quit”, and passed out in bed.
It’s the next day now, I’m writing this wrapped under a bazillion blankets, drinking tea at the hottest temperature I can stand. I just can’t seem to get warm. Maybe I’m getting sick? Any advice on how to get as warm as possible without hurting yourself? Thanks in advance.
#entertainment
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I worked overnight reception at one of the less popular hotels in REDACTED,Alaska. I’ve been at this job for a year now, and until yesterday I thought everything I experienced was just your typical run of the mill small town weirdo hotel stuff. Most of the population is older folks, people who had lived here for years. Same with the ones who visited. I’d always had an affinity for older people, I was raised by my grandparents.
At first the incidents didn’t freak me out that much. One night about a month after I started, it was about 2:00am; and I had 6 more hours left to go. It has been an uneventful shift so far, a couple phone calls asking for more ice, people needing to replace a room key. Typical. The lobby had been empty for hours at this point.
I remember the phone ringing, it showed room number 44. After I finished giving the typical intro speech, I was met with the sound of heavy breathing. When they finally did answer they spoke in a dry hushed voice.
“Don’t let him in.” And then the line disconnected.
Before I had a chance to press redial I heard a loud banging coming from the fire exit door. With every second it got more intense, until I heard a voice call out “let me in please, it’s cold out here.”
We were a cheap hotel, we didn’t employ a security guard, let alone have any security cameras, and I was not about to go out there and check who it was. As far as I knew every guest was accounted for.
The voice eventually petered out just like the banging had. It wasn’t until the next day I realized, we didn’t have a room 44.
You may be thinking why I would stay on after that. To tell you the truth I didn’t have much of an option. Jobs here are extremely limited, and unless I wanted to commute 2-3 hours to the next big city, I was out of luck.
There were a couple other unsettling things that happened after that, phone calls from guests that weren’t actually staying here, wet footprints in the lobby when I hadn’t seen anybody walk by, and every now and then I would experience something I could only describe as time loss.
At first I thought that I had dozed off. But then it kept happening when I was obviously awake. I’d go to the bathroom and come back and a whole hour had passed, and I had no memory of that hour.
When I would talk to my boss about these things he chalked it up to sleep deprivation, or kids playing pranks. Which I had accepted, until yesterday.
The shift started off somewhat normal, working at a hotel things are rarely ever truly “normal.”I got in at 10:00pm, caught up with the dayshift receptionist, Amy, and downed whichever cheap energy drink I had picked up at the gas station on my way here.
“Just so you know, there is a woman that keeps coming down asking for ice. I’ve given her like 4 buckets already. So don’t be surprised if she asks you for more.”
“What room is she in?”
“I have no idea, she won’t tell me. I tried telling her that there is an ice machine on every floor, but she insists on coming down each time”.
Like I said, the guests here can be a little weird. But nothing to immediately set off any alarm bells.
Amy had been long gone, and I had totally forgot about ice women, when I heard someone clear their throat. I had been sitting at reception that whole time, doing some admin stuff on the computer.
I didn’t hear her footsteps come down the hall, or even the elevator open. It’s as if she just appeared.
“Is-is Amy still here?”
I told her Amy had left and asked if I could help her with anything. She seemed off put for a minute, before a look that I could only describe as a mixture of fear and desperation came over her.
“I’d like a bucket of ice please.”
Looking back I should’ve just given her the bucket of ice, it was way above my pay grade to investigate. But I couldn’t help myself, I kept pushing.
“Ma’am, we have already given you four buckets of ice, and there is an ice machine on every floor. Is there a reason you need all this ice? What are you using it for?”
She looked like she was about to argue, when she visibly withered in front of me, and said in a voice that had long given up,
“He needs it. He prefers the cold”.
People can be weird. I couldn’t imagine what they were doing with that ice. So I asked her what room she was staying it. She opened her mouth to respond and then froze. She was staring straight ahead, looking at me, but it really felt like she was looking through me.
For a second I thought she had had a stroke, I walked over to put my hand on her shoulder. It was icy to the touch and leather hard. She jolted at my touch.
“Ma’am, what room are you staying in? I think you may need medical help.”
“Room 44.”
My mouth went dry and I couldn’t swallow as I was processing this information. When I finally spoke again it took a tremendous effort.
“There is no room 44.”
She merely looked at me, and said “He would like to see you now.”
She gestured to the bucket we used for ice sitting in the corner, and for me to follow. Complying felt easier than arguing at this point, I suddenly felt exhausted. Everything took effort.
The bucket of ice banged against my shins as I followed her into the elevator. She pressed the button for the 4th floor and we started moving slowly. I was looking at my feet, I could feel her eyes burning into me. I didn’t want to meet them.
The ding of the doors opening brought me back to reality, and we stepped into the hallway. I immediately sensed something wasn’t right. The fluorescent lights were flickering, some completely disconnected. As we started walking down the hallway the floor was damp, sticky, and smelled like mildew.
Everything seemed yellowed, whereas before it was a bright clean white. As we slowly passed by each room I started taking account. The hallway didn’t seem any longer than usual.
37,38,39,40.
And then we somehow turned a corner, when it should’ve stopped, and there in front of us was room 44. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. As long as I had worked here there had been 4 floors, with 10 rooms on each floor.
The door itself looked exactly like all the other doors on the floor. Dark green, brass handle, pretty standard.
As we approached the door I could feel the temperature drop. It felt like I was standing outside. The carpet here was drenched.
“Come in, take the ice to the bathroom, and whatever you do, don’t let him touch you.”
I don’t know why, but I walked into the room. It’s almost liked I was pulled in there. The mildew smell increased tenfold. All the blankets were stuffed into a corner and the bed has been pushed directly under the open window. The door to the bathroom was ajar, and water was seeping out. My footsteps crunched under me as I walked up to the bathroom. Frost.
“Oh hello, I’ve been expecting you. Thank you for bringing me ice.”
An ancient looking old man covered in a towel lay in the bathtub, covered almost to his chin in water that had visible chunks of ice in it.
“Before you add any more ice would you be so kind as to hand me another towel, I’d like to use it as a pillow for my neck.”
His request seemed so simple and innocent that my body reacted before my brain could. As soon as I leaned over the tub to hand him a towel his arm shot out and grabbed my ankle yanking me to the floor. An icy pain shot through my leg as I fell.
I tried to pull away but his grip was too strong and I kept slipping on the slick floor. The old man seemed to grow and started to loom over me, his skin spitting in half like a cocoon as he stood up. He kept pulling me closer, trying to drag me into the tub with him. I frantically reached around for anything I could use to defend myself.
My hands met with a hair dryer that had fallen in the scuffle. The hotel provides one in each bathroom. I remembered what the woman told me in the lobby, he likes it cold.
With a last ditch effort I plug it in and turned it on full blast directing it towards what was an old man, but now was a black mass stretched tightly over a skeletal figure. Where his eyes were, now stood hollow voids. No mouth visible, yet it was making a sound like it was laughing.
As soon as the heat touched its “skin.” It recoiled letting go just long enough for me to jump up and start running.
I slammed the bathroom door behind me and sprinted across the room. Screeches following me, the lady didn’t even try to stop me, her eyes just followed me with a pitying look.
The elevator doors closed just in time for me to hear footsteps coming after me. I didn’t breathe until I was on the road driving home, and even then I kept checking my rearview mirror to make sure nothing was following me. As soon as I got home I took the hottest bath I could, texted my boss “I quit”, and passed out in bed.
It’s the next day now, I’m writing this wrapped under a bazillion blankets, drinking tea at the hottest temperature I can stand. I just can’t seem to get warm. Maybe I’m getting sick? Any advice on how to get as warm as possible without hurting yourself? Thanks in advance.
#entertainment
source
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