Eye Candy

I rushed to Heather’s room, but only because it was away from that suite.

I knocked on their door. “Heather? Channing?”

I waited. No response. I knocked again. “Hello?” No response.

I tried the door.

It opened, and I stepped inside, just one foot.

The room was cold.

The lights were off.

A breeze swept through the room, giving me the shivers.

“Heather?” I raised my voice. Were they in the bathroom? My stomach sank to my feet. Would everyone be in the bathroom now? Was this the beginning of a perverted joke? But I crossed the room. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I ignored the pit in my stomach, and I knocked on the bathroom door.

There was no response.

I knocked again, then checked. The door was unlocked.

I held my breath and pushed it open.

Nothing.

I didn’t even feel the warmth that lingered when someone had just taken a shower. I turned back around. There was nothing in the room. There was no reason for me to believe they’d even been in here.

Did I have the wrong room?

That was it. Had to be it. I started for the hallway again, then heard a dash of footsteps in the hallway. Someone ran past where I was.

I darted forward. Who was that? I got to the hallway, it took two seconds, but they were gone. The tan-and-black floral pattern on the floor stretched up and down the hallway. No one was there. I started forward.

I heard a soft click to my left, ahead of me.

A door closed.

My head snapped around again. No. The sound was away from the suite.

I kept going.

I didn’t have shoes on. I wasn’t dressed to leave the hallway, never mind the hotel. I’d have to go back if I didn’t find anyone. Still. I pressed on. I didn’t even know what I would find, or if I would find anything, but I kept going.

I got to the end.

Nothing. No one.

I was sick of this.

I let out a breath of air and started back for the room. I’d go back and call the front desk. I’d have them ring me to Heather’s correct room.

Another soft click.

I knew I’d heard it this time. My head whipped back around, but still nothing in the hallway. Not even the sound of the ice machine.

The hairs on my neck were standing up. Then again, I don’t think they had ever relaxed.

I pressed a hand to my stomach, like that would calm me. It did nothing. I knew it wouldn’t, but I had to try. I was walking back to the room. I hadn’t realized how far I’d gone. I had four doors to go. Three. Two. I was at Heather’s room again.

“Sam?”

I cried out, rounding, and falling to the floor. My heart leapt out of my chest.

It was Heather. She stood right behind me, clutching an ice bucket.

I pressed a hand to my chest, making sure everything was still intact there, that nothing had exploded. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Me?” She pointed to me with the bucket. “What are you doing? You’re being all creepy and sneaking down the hallway. I followed you from the stairs.”

“The stairs?”

“Yeah. I went down there to get ice. Ours is out of order on this floor.”

“Did you take the elevator?”

“No. Why would I? It’s just one floor.”

So that had been the door click. “My heart is still racing.” I got up, but still held my hand over my heart.

But what about the second door click? The thought nagged me. I would’ve seen her. I was looking up and down the hallway. And come to think of it, where was the exit sign? I didn’t see it. “Where are the stairs?”

She motioned to the door I’d just passed. I widened my eyes. It looked just like another bedroom.

Wait. That didn’t make sense either.

I shook my head.

None of this was making sense. Those hairs—they were standing straight up, ramrod straight. There was no slouching. They were at full attention. I asked, “How’d you know that was the stairs?”

“Channing told me.”

“What?”

“He said that they switched the signs around, something about not letting media up here, and that this is the door I needed to use for my smoke breaks.”

“Where is Channing?”

She frowned. “He said he went to talk to you. I went to get ice after that.”

“Oh.” I could relax again. “He probably went to look for you like I just did.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” She shrugged, and went to the room. I followed her, but stood in the doorway. She looked fine, unlike what Channing had claimed. I asked, “Are you doing okay?”

She half-laughed at me. “Are you serious? I should be the one asking you, not the other way around.”

“Oh.”

There was no reason for me to stay here. I looked over my shoulder at the suite door. Maybe I should go and see how Logan was doing? Maybe he actually did need me? I let out another sigh. I just wished I knew what I should do.

“But how are you doing?” Heather put the ice down, then reached for her cigarettes. She folded them into her pocket and pulled on a sweatshirt.

“I—uh.” I looked back at the ground. I didn’t want to think about her. Then I wouldn’t even be able to stand. “I think I want to process it later.”

“Okay.” She held up her cigarettes. “I have to get out of here. I need a smoke. You want one? You look like you could actually use one, but don’t get addicted.” She grinned, the smile not reaching her eyes. “I’ve heard they’re bad for you. She used to tell me that. Ta—” She stopped, clasping her eyes tightly shut. She bit down on her lip and her head hung low. “Oh God.”

All the feelings came rushing in. I started to slide down to the floor. I could feel the sobs coming. I wrapped my arms around myself, warding everything off. I did not want to fall apart.

Heather rushed to me. She slid an arm around me and helped me stand. “I’m sorry, Sam.” She tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. “I’m so sorry.”

I couldn’t talk.

We stood there, her arms around me, my own arms around me, and I took a moment. Just one. I had to keep going after that, and after a few moments passed, I nodded. I stood straight again. Heather pulled away, still frowning. “You better?”

I flashed her a grin, knowing it was broken. I didn’t care about that. I couldn’t. “Enough.”

“Okay.”

We stepped back into the hallway. I went toward the suite. She went to the weird stairway door. She opened it and put one foot inside, pulling her cigarettes out again. “You sure you don’t want one? Not trying to push bad shit on you, but.” The little light she had in her eyes dimmed. “You know.”

I shook my head. “Thank you, but no.”

“Okay.”

“Hey.” I stopped her.

She looked back up.

I gestured to my door. “Find Channing and come in when you get back.”

She started to nod. She started to say, “I will—” when a gloved hand appeared around her head. Her eyes bulged out. Her mouth opened to scream, but the hand covered her mouth.

I had one second of warning before the knife was brought to her throat, and in a nanosecond—her throat was slashed.

“NO!”

Blood spewed from her throat, and her body slumped to the ground. I froze.