Hotel of Horrors
"Run! Hurry!" I grabbed my wife's hand. Illuminated by emergency lights, the room numbers sped by.
"I'm trying." Mari hefted up Drew, our five-year-old son.
518. 516. 514!
I slipped the key card out of my pocket and into the slot on our hotel room door. The light remained red. "Shit, come on!" I tried again.
Down the hallway, the stairway door banged hard against the wall.
"Mommy!" Drew cried out.
"The other way, Zack." Mari stared wide-eyed at the encroaching shadows. Her arms circled protectively around Drew.
I looked at the key card, turned it around, and tried the door. The light turned green, and I flung the door open. "Hurry!" Their footsteps grew louder, closer. They were gaining.
We dashed inside, and I leaned against the door.
The door swung half-way open. "Help me!"
"Hide, Drew." Mari ordered while throwing herself against the door.
A claw curled around the wood.
We pushed and shoved. The claw retracted. The door closed. I turned the deadbolt.
The door held.
"Drag over that table. I'll keep against the door," I said.
The jolt jarred me, but Mari was quick, snatching a round table and dragging it over. I shoved it under the knob.
Bang. Bang. Bang!
The table scooted backwards from the pounding.
"We've got to get out of here!" Mari searched the room.
Drew huddled at the corner of the bedpost. A wet spot spread below him on the carpet.
I stepped away from the door and lugged the nightstands to the door.
The entire door shook, but it held.
A thick silence covered us like a blanket.
"Are they still out there," Mari asked.
"I don't know."
"We need a way out." Mari knelt beside Drew and wrapped her arms around him.
Those creatures had trapped us. I could see only one way out. Grasping the curtains, I slid them to either side. The nighttime skyline twinkled at me. "We're going to have to jump."
"What? Are you crazy? It's five stories. We'll never make it."
"I can break the windows open." I looked around the room. "We'll throw the mattresses down and tie the sheets and curtains together to make a rope. It's the only way, honey."
The wheels turned in Mari's head while she processed the information and their choices. "Maybe they're gone."
"Maybe," I said.
She kissed Drew and crept over to the door. The silence remained. Scooting around the table, she peeked through the peephole. "I don't—" She jerked backwards and yelped.
The axe blade split the peephole in two.
"Break the damn windows." Mari yanked Drew to the other side, snatched the sheets off the bed, and tied them together.
The axe pierced the door again.
I grabbed a chair and swung it.
A chunk of door fell.
Yellow eyes peered in.
The glass spider-webbed outward.
Another swing and the glass shattered.
Wind whipped into the room.
Wood cracked like a gunshot.
They were inside.