The Hotel Manager Walking the Floors

Stacey stepped off the elevator, glanced at his clipboard and ran a hand through his moustache.

Grumbling to himself he rolled his shoulders, lowered the clipboard and headed out into the hotel corridor. Looking both ways he decided to go left, dragging his feet a little as he tried to figure out what the rambling message he was left meant.

He had been putting off following up on it, having patrolled and inspected several floors before coming to find the irate housekeeper.

Maria could be so wound up over the slightest things sometimes.

Her experience and quality of work made her hard to argue with, however. Which usually meant managing the people around Maria to be patient with her, versus colliding head-on with the stubborn older woman.

Seeing Stacey walk up Maria shook her head. She had been changing the bedding, towels and toiletries like Natalie said but quickly found herself unable to doubt what she was feeling.

“These not right,” Maria remarked angrily gesturing at her cart.

“No it isn't. Why aren't you using the white linens, and these soaps, what are they even doing here?’ Stacey remarked in agreeance, happy to do so and deflect things back on Maria.

“Lucille. She brings, she says we must use. I feel evil, bad energy.” Maria ranted stepping away from her cart.

“No, not evil. Just wrong stuff.” Stacey replied, rolling his eyes and glancing at his watch wondering where this stuff came from and how many rooms had to be revisited. Why did he even have to waste time on this?

“No. Evil.” Maria stated bluntly crossing her arms.

“Yes, there is no evil.” Stacey agreed, feeling like he was running in circles with the dialogue.

“Yes. Eval. LOOK SPREADS!” Maria then responded, the last words uttered in shock as the walls and floors by the elevator shifted colour as if a shadow had been cast over them.

A growing and advancing shadow. Fueled by the orgy and descent of more souls as the bestial orgies grew on another floor.

“What the?” Stacey remarked stepping testingly across the encroaching line.

“NO. DANGER.” Maria shouted at him, feeling the crucifix on her chest seemed to warm.

“Don't be ridiculous. Come here.” Stacey replied, shaking his head at the strangely superstitious old woman as she went to run down towards the stairs, only to pause as the same shadow seemed to begin bleeding from there.

“Come back.” Stacey sighed reluctantly, watching as Maria grabbed her master key and ducked into a room. Banging on the door Stacey demanded it to be opened, The only response the barely audible praying of the Spanish woman in a corner.

After several minutes Stacey called security, pacing back and forth in the hall he regretted how small a team they kept. Looking at his watch he wondered what could be taking the guards so long.

Standing over the cart Stacey reached for a bottle of water. As he leaned over the cart there was suddenly a series of popping sounds as shampoo, conditioner and hand soap bottles exploded squirting their contents onto his hand and sleeve.

Cursing with aggravation Stacey flung the cart over with his now messy hand, pausing stunned to see easily he had flung it single-handed.

Breathing heavily Stacey tried to calm himself, finding it hard to believe he had just done that. Glancing to his hand he contemplated leaving for the slop sink by the service elevator. Concern mounting that the security guard had still not turned up.

Trying to ignore the mess on his right hand he gently knocked on the door. “Maria, can you please just open the door. This is ridiculous.”

Inside Maria didn’t dare to stop her prayers, the shadowy encroachment holding at bay on each side around her, as she swallowed her saliva worrying her mouth might run dry before the evil passes.

Stacey looked at his watch, growing increasingly annoyed by the time he was being tied up here.

Glancing at his goop covered hand he noted how the stuff seemed to be hardening. It was failing to simply drip off generating a strange warm tingling sensation the longer it sat. Reaching for a towel from the cart Stacey felt a strangely warm and relaxing sensation as he wiped the goop from his arm.

None of that was corrosive, was it? He wondered gazing at how some way all his hand was smeared in the multicoloured almost silicone-like skin.

His other hand guiding the corrupted towel to smear some of the goop mindlessly across his brow, the towel felt so good, Stacey couldn't help but press his face into it, breathing deep, no longer aware of why he had originally picked it up as he put it back down.

Poking at the smeared streaks on his skin it was clear it was still drying towards easily peeling off.

Inhaling deeply he thought he sensed a new scent on the air, glancing at his watch he shook his hand. He couldn't account for all the time that had past.

Or maybe his waiting strangely didn't seem so long.

The gunk was dry on his one hand, flexing it open and closed felt alien more so than restrained.

God he felt horny. Stacey tried to shake the thought from his head. He was on the job, barely… Where were his guards? The wedding reception should be running.

Slumping down against a wall he stared at the door, wishing it would just fall open.

The towels, the sheets. He paused for a moment. Maybe he should go see where laundry got them from. That might share how widespread this error was.