Chapter 61: Ahhhhh

Chapter 61: Ahhhhh
Ariel’s POV

The sound rolled through the floor like a punch thrown by the building itself — a deep, hollow slam that rattled the drying machines and sent the hotel worker into a full-body flinch. I felt it under my feet, a vibration traveling straight up my legs and into my ribs, as if the entire corridor had become a drum someone was hitting from the inside.

Damian didn’t jump. He didn’t even blink.

His fingers curled tighter around the gold key in his hand, the little piece of metal glinting like it knew something we didn’t. Something I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

“Ariel,” he said quietly, “stay behind me.”

I didn’t argue; I just nodded and stepped closer. When I did, he leaned the slightest bit into me — not protective, not possessive, but grounding. And God, I needed grounding. My nerves felt lit, my heartbeat too loud.

The hotel worker gasped again, eyes darting between us and the hallway.

“W-We should go,” he stammered. “He’s—he’s still out there—oh god, he killed Martin—he killed—”

“Stop talking,” Damian ordered, not harshly, but with enough force that the man shut his mouth like someone had zipped it closed.

I swallowed and glanced at the dead guard on the floor. His body looked… wrong, somehow. Not in a gruesome way. In the stillness. As if the thing that had used him had left him completely empty inside. My stomach churned.

“Damian,” I whispered, “people are going to ask questions. We can’t just—leave him here.”

“No one’s asking anything until we deal with Ethan,” he said, and even though his voice was steady, I saw the muscle near his jaw twitch. “We move first. Questions come later.”

The slam echoed again — this time softer, like someone pushing against a door instead of throwing themselves into it. But the effect was the same: the air grew thin, sharp, electric.

Damian stepped toward the hallway. I followed automatically, but he pressed a hand to my stomach, gently guiding me back behind him.

“Stay close. But stay behind me.”

His voice wasn’t commanding — it was almost… worried. That scared me more than any slam ever could.

We moved out of the laundry room.

The hallway was too quiet for a hotel this size. I expected distant chatter, cleaning carts, footsteps, doors opening and closing. Instead it felt like the whole floor was holding its breath.

The lights flickered overhead.

Something about the flicker made me feel watched.

We took a few steps, the gold key swinging between Damian’s fingers. The worker trailed behind at a distance, practically clinging to the wall.

“What floor is 1407 on?” I asked.

“Fourteen,” Damian said.

Of course. Fourteen. Why couldn’t Ethan haunt the first floor like a normal disturbed ex-boyfriend?

The elevator dinged, and all three of us jumped.

The doors slid open slowly.

Empty.

But the overhead light inside the elevator was blinking. A slow pulse. Like a heartbeat.

I shivered.

“Stairs,” Damian said.

“No,” the worker squeaked. “No, no, that’s worse, the stairwell is—”

“Stairs,” Damian repeated, sharper.

The man whimpered and followed us.

We made it to the stairwell door, and Damian checked the handle first — testing, always testing. The air behind the door felt cold enough that my skin tightened. Damian noticed too; he paused, eyes flicking back to me.

“You okay?”

I nodded even though I wasn’t.

He opened the door slowly.

The stairwell was dim, lit only by a few flickering bulbs that cast long shadows across the concrete walls. It smelled like metal and dust — like old buildings do when no one checks on them often enough.

We started climbing.

Four flights.

Five.

Six.

By the time we hit the tenth floor, my legs burned, the hotel worker was wheezing, and Damian looked… irritated. Not tired. Just annoyed that any of this dared exist.

“Damian,” I whispered, “what if he’s not alone?”

“He isn’t,” he said simply.

That was not the answer I wanted.

We reached the thirteenth floor landing when something scraped below us. A sharp, dragging sound. Like metal on concrete.

The hotel worker choked on a sob.

Damian turned his head slightly toward me. “Do not look back.”

So of course my brain immediately tried to look back.

He tightened his grip on my hand before I could.

“Focus on me,” he said, voice lower now, as if speaking too loudly might trigger something.

I stared at his shoulders, the way his muscles pulled and flexed under his shirt, steady and controlled. It made my mind quiet down, even if only a little.

We climbed to the fourteenth floor.

Damian pushed the stairwell door open and stepped out first. I followed, and the worker crept behind us like a terrified shadow.

The hallway here looked different.

The lights weren’t flickering.

The carpets weren’t stained from the guard’s blood or the chaos below.

It looked almost… untouched.

I didn’t know if that made it better or worse.

Damian lifted the gold key, eyes scanning the hallway numbers until they landed on the door at the far end.

1407.

I stopped walking.

“Damian,” I whispered, “I don’t feel right.”

“I know,” he said.

“I feel like… like he’s listening.”

“He is.”

I swallowed hard.

Damian stepped in front of the door.

The worker whimpered again, “I—I’m going back—I—I can’t—”

“Go,” Damian said without looking at him.

The man bolted back to the stairs so fast he tripped, caught himself, and ran anyway.

I didn’t blame him.

Damian slipped the key into the lock.

The second it clicked, I felt a shift in the air. A pressure. Like someone on the other side had stopped breathing for a split second just to listen.

“Ready?” Damian asked.

“No,” I whispered. “Open it.”

His lips twitched like he almost smiled.

He turned the key.

The door creaked open half an inch.

Just half an inch.

But enough to see—

Darkness.

Not the kind you get when the lights are off.
A thicker kind.
A silence-soaked kind.

I pressed closer to Damian without realizing it.

The door pushed itself open another inch.

Damian froze.

I froze.

The air moved.

Like something had passed us.
Through us.

But nothing was there.

Nothing visible.

“Damian…” My voice cracked. “Something’s wrong. He isn’t—”

Then we heard it.

A laugh.

Soft.

Low.

Familiar in a way that made my stomach drop to my shoes.

From inside the darkened suite:

“Ariel… you finally came.”

My blood ran cold.

Damian yanked me behind him so fast I nearly tripped. But it was too late.

Something in that room shifted and Rose Then she launched straight at me.

"Ahhhhh"