The Zombie Hotel, Part 1


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Feb 2, 2015
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Hunched over my iPad texting up my next novel
Okay, so um, this story is based off a dream I had today. Unfortunately, my mother woke me up before I could finish it. But if I continue the dream when I go back to sleep tonight, I will write another part. And even if I don't, I'll make up an ending. :)
Note: the dialogue in this is not exactly how it was in my dream.
"Ugh!" I exclaimed, groaning. "Why do we have to go again?" This was my biggest fear of all, going back to that horrifying place.
My college-aged brother (which I do not have in real-life) shifted on the old couch we were sitting on. "I told you, the hotel needs our help."
For some reason, the sofa was in front of a small, not luxurious hotel. It looked like a Holiday Inn, but it seemed much more scary.
"Yeah," agreed my mother (who was herself).
"They contacted me," my brother put in, "saying that their doors wouldn't stay closed. Any you know what happens when the doors aren't closed."
I shrugged. I remember the fact that when people were in their rooms, they kept their doors closed, so monsters couldn't get in. The problem must've explained why the normal-looking, glass doors of the hotel kept opening and closing on their own, as if ghastly ghosts were to blame. And honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case.
"Come on," he said, standing up. Even though he seemed eager, I could tell he was nervous. As she got to her feet, I knew mom was, too.
"No." I shook my head. I didn't want to die. I wasn't going to die. Especially at the hands of a monster. I distractedly gazed around me while autumn leaves swirled through the sky, being carried by the wind. I knew they were beautifully colored red, orange, and yellow, but the darkening sky made them look black and almost invisible, just like the wretched creatures that stalked the insides of the wretched building.
When I came back to my harsh reality, I saw my brother standing near the doors, chatting with the bellhop.
He kept pushing them close whenever the flew open, which was often. Whenever it did, they giggled, as if they were on a picnic.
Finally, bro and mom went inside the hotel, waving and smiling micheievously at me, with the bellhop leading the way. I knew they were taunting me.
I folded my arms across my chest and firmly planted my butt on the worn couch, not planning to move a single inch. I narrowed my eyes as they went through another pair of doors, into what I called the arena. But seconds later, the wind howled viscously, and the full moon emitted eerie vibes, and no matter how much it pained me, I reluctantly stood up and rushed inside.

The arena wasn't as scary as I thought, just like the last time. There weren't that many monsters, maybe just a few zombie dogs pacing back and forth across the tile floor, their dirty, grimy, dried-blooded paws making pit-pat sounds. Yet, I constantly looked around the room, being careful not to touch any of them; because if one came in contact with your skin, you'd be dead in an instant.
I always was curious why the creatures always resembled the monsters from the hugely-popular game Minecraft, and wondered why people would want to stay at the hotel in the first place. It was surprisingly popular, and I could only guess it was for thrill-seekers. Most importantly, I wanted to know how the monsters even got there in the first place.
Questions aside, I saw a tiny concierge desk to the left of me, and to the right, there were rows or large, wooden bookshelves filled with all sorts of used knickknacks.
The manager greeted us warmly, even though he reminded me of a skeleton. His face was long and bony, and his body was tall and skinny in his tuxedo. His gelly black hair was only a ring around his head, and his eyes were black and big, with circles under them, as if he hadn't gotten any sleep for days.
I wondered if he was a zombie in disguise.
"Good evening," he said icily. "And welcome."
With his hands behind his back, he motioned at the plastic, white-sepia colored, gun-like contraption hanging around me on a strap, like a cross-body bag.
"Guns. Ha. Children these days." I was going to correct him, though I decided not to. "What is it called?" he questioned.
Immediately, a memory filled my mind. I was in my bro's workshop, sitting at a table wearing stained aprons on. I remeber him saying that tau was the answer to building the monster-zapping gun. I was about to ask him how two multiplied by 3.14 could make it work, but I never got the chance.
Once I came out of my trance, I hesitated, trying to remembered what he called them. "Lenticular . . . something," I replied, shrugging.
The skeleton man nodded gravely and showed us to our rooms. After we got settled in, we went downstairs to look at the flea market, which was what the shelves of stuff were.
There must've been over a million things. Old China vases, intricately-carved boxes, and tattered blankets lined one of the walls, with racks of other stuff in front of them.
My mom seemed very interested in everything, staring at each object for a long time and even picking one up.
"What are you doing?!" I screamed. "Don't touch anything!"
She shook her head and said, "Don't worry. It's fine."
I sighed. This was boring and dangerous. For some reason, bro didn't bring his gun, so I kept patting mine, making sure it was still there, as if it would disappear at any moment.
Minutes later, I heard a familiar, sinister groan. I peeked down one isle and saw what I first thought was a zombie. My eyes widened, and fear rushed through my body. "Zombie!" I exclaimed. It must've heard me, because it was looking at something before it turned its green head and lurched towards me. It wasn't a zombie, yet a creeper. A fact that didn't particularly help.

With adrenaline rushing through my blood, I shakily placed a sweating hand on my gun. I raised it to eye level and aimed. I clicked the trigger.
Yet nothing happened.
Shear panic entered my brain. I ran as fast as I could to my brother. "Help!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, shoving the empty gun at his face. "It's out of pellets! I forgot to reload it before we left the house! Please tell me you have some more!"
"Yep," he answered. He opened up his black satchel, reached inside, and took out some sheets of newspaper. "Here." He handed them to me.
I was just about to roll them up and put them in my weapon when I heard the creeper coming closer. It had only four, short legs, but it was surprisingly fast.
"Run!" I screamed.
My brother gasped. "Mom! Hurry!"
My mother looked in our direction, completely unaware of what was happening. She paused for a moment, took one last glimpse at an object, then raced towards us.
We ran through the twisting mazes of junk and shelves, passing several more monsters, including a broad-shouldered zombie. All the while, I was peeking at my gun, reading the instructions printed on the side that stating it could hold only three newspaper pellets at a time. I tried stuffing the newspaper into it, but it was no use--it kept moving too much.
At one point, the creeper was so close to me that I could feel its hot, terrible breath on my neck. Its horrifying groan was louder than ever. I was glad they didn't have any arms, because if they did, it would've reached out and caught me.
Eventually, when we got out of the flea market, we headed towards the lounging area, directly towards a small, worn, oak table with a chubby family sitting at it. Hoping the monsters had lost track of us, we approached it, our breathes hard and deep.
"Oh," said my brother, noticing there was only a stool and a chair.
"I don't have to sit," I said.
So, he and mom sat down, while I layed the newspaper on the table.
Suddenly, somehow, they immediately turned into tiny, brown, icing-less pastry rolls. I didn't seem to notice, and neither did anyone else.
Once I finally got them into the gun, I knew it would automatically shape them into hard, little balls.
Unfortunately, my hoping did not work, and the terrible creatures caught up with us.
I gasped.
Then, before I knew it, I was transported to a weird, fantasy video game. The monsters had turned into a single, undead, last-level boss, and it was a giant.
The people at our table had turned into the players, now with a full set of armor and weapons, their bodies slenderized. We all began attacked the monster at once.
Arrows flew around me, humongous swords slashed through the air. Wands casted spells, nevertheless it seemed to be taking forever to defeat the creature.
Minutes later, when I fired a blue, expoding arrow at the it, it bent down and stared at me, as if I was the only person around him. He murmured something meaningless, yet I can't remember what it was.
He stood back up.
We continued our assault.

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