Seven Flights Of Twisting Stairs

A trip to a hotel shouldn't be all too difficult, but a hotel that has infinite floors and secret staircases? Now that is a bit more interesting.

I somehow found it difficult to depart from the butler since he was kind enough to have walked with me about the village so obediently and lead me down the path that drew us towards it. His manners were exceptional, he had such a tall and calm outlook, and he didn’t seem like the sort to abandon a friend very easily, but he also seemed to be hardworking and loyal to whoever he worked for. He would find it difficult to abandon a close one but if for the sake of his work, he just may (depending on the person.)

I began to brace myself for an adventure, one that came to me unwillingly, and pretended to be content as I strolled towards the hotel, but instead, I found myself stopping mid-way to look back at the man that I was leaving behind. I glanced over my shoulder and my eyes adjusted to the dimly lit street once more before wandering about in search for the man. He was nowhere to be seen. My lungs felt deflated and I just looked for a moment, wondering where he might have gone, but of course, he was only a dream. He was only in my mind and I was about to drift off into an eternity of a peaceful slumber.

This world was one that I created and he was not only someone I knew, but he was the one and only person that I knew the most in this universe...Myself. Even then, I barely knew myself at all. If I did, I wouldn’t be wandering about, in search for a place to call home and in search for answers. I was a bird that had fallen from a tree, a boat with a hole, a roof with a tear, music without sound, and I no longer felt that I could exist in this way. This man who had disappeared before my very eyes wasn’t the only one to have done it so quickly. No. There was another.

Another man who I could never forgive. Was that the reason why I was here? To find him someplace and forgive him? What if I refused? Would I then be sent to a real hell? The kind that is filled with real torture and real flames that will swallow me and caress me before tearing my flesh and breathing on my charred skeleton? I didn’t want to think about it any more. I turned towards the hotel and continued to walk, remembering how much less traffic there is in this village compared to London, yet there were still carriages trotting by every few seconds and I had to be cautious of them.

It wasn’t anything like the modern London, with street lights and shops and cars and not to mention the smell of the fresh pavement and the nauseating scent of gasoline. It was all something to get used to, and I did, but this new aroma was much more pleasant. Despite how beautiful this world was, I wasn’t planning on staying long. The buildings weren’t very tall but the town was buzzing with residents and visitors. Men and women alike, none shamed or cornered out. All were included in conversation and all were strolling with another.

This world wasn’t as lonely as I had anticipated. The people here seemed to be barely capable of doing so much as breathing without someone to do so with them! It was relaxing actually, to see them enjoying themselves so peacefully, yet that was when I realized how completely alone I really was. Without the butler to accompany me, I was walking alone to a hotel where I was to spend the night alone as well and then wake up even lonelier once all of the other hotel residents have left their rooms and I will stroll out into the streets by myself and have to approach others for directions before directing myself alone.

The butler said that he would send for someone to come and show me the other villages, but I wanted to see them for myself before I get so much as a wink of sleep! I thought it foolish though. The villages wouldn’t be as lively without the light of day to enlighten them, so I continued to waltz into the hotel and was greeted with a small room and a desk against the wall. Behind the desk was a lovely lady wearing an old fashioned dress with a black shawl that draped over her shoulders and a black necklace wrapped around her thin neck. She was incredibly thin and pale and she was writing using a quill. I hadn’t seen anyone using a quill so fluently since my father showed me how to use one.

I should mention that we lived in the modern world with advanced technologies and the beauty of machinery, but my father was an old fashioned man who taught me all sorts of things.

How could he ever leave you may ask? Well, he did. Most likely because he was too drunk to remember why he even wanted to stay in the first place. If I wasn’t so clueless towards how he felt as a kid, I would have made myself the reason why he wanted to stay, but I suppose even I wasn’t enough. Now there wasn’t even so much as a mention from him or about him and although it was strangling me constantly at first, it soon turned more into small gasps. Quick, painless, but my lungs still felt desperate in the end.

“May I help you?” the sweet lady asked, her voice pure as spring water. I walked towards her desk, my hands still shaking from the new experience, and politely asked her if I could rent one of the rooms for the night. “Oh!” she exclaimed, rising from her seat with an expression that was ever so delightful. “You must be a newcomer! I could almost tell from the way you walked in but I couldn’t be entirely sure unless you spoke! What is your name?” She was far more energetic than I had originally anticipated.

Her eyes wandered about my appearance. Starting with my messy hair, then my Washington D.C t-shirt, and continuing on to my black sweatpants before returning her gaze to my pale face. I really did look new didn’t I? I should really stop by one of the shops some time soon to get some proper clothes, but for now I had to get some rest and wait for morning to come so I can greet the person who will be showing me around.

“Capheus Malideux” I replied in an attempt to sound more formal than I was being. I really must have looked foolish to this woman. I immediately regretted even keeping my chin up. She quickly grabbed her quill and began scribbling my name in her account book. I could already see her fighting back a smile as she lifted her head and handed me the quill. She turn the paper towards me and pointed towards a blank section at the bottom.

“Sign here” she said before removing her finger. I grabbed the quill hesitantly, trying to remember how to use it. There was a small bottle of ink beside the paper and I knew that the first thing I had to do was carefully dip the quill into it. I did what my father had taught me and cautiously slipped the quill into the ink before lifting it once again and slightly wiping it on the edge to avoid it dripping. I moved the quill to the blank section and began to engrave my signature onto the paper. I had never written my signature with a quill before, so it did turn out a bit messy, but it went better than I had thought.

I then handed her the quill before she turned the paper and glanced at it to be sure that I had signed it. She then reached beneath her desk and began asking the usual questions such as, “How long are you staying for?” and “Are you staying alone?” I replied saying that I’m only staying for one night and that yes, my intention was to sleep here alone and then leave in the morning. Apparently, sleeping here for one night was free the first time for newcomers, but the second time you had to pay a fee of two memories. Relatively small ones so that was good.

She handed me the key and told me my room number.

“Your number is 784. It’s on the seventh floor and it should be at the far end of the hall” she smiled as she spoke of what sounded like a walk that might as well be even longer and more exhausting than the one I had with the butler. I didn’t know whether to smile back or just walk so I took the key and headed for the staircase. The stairs were winding up to several balconies before reaching what looked to be a ceiling. There couldn’t have been a seventh floor! There weren’t even four floors! Had she been mistaken? I continued up the stairs, my legs growing tired as I reached the third floor.

I really needed to get some more exercise. The stairs were almost dizzying and I had started to feel slightly nauseous as I reached the fourth floor. When I came to the top of the staircase that lead from the floor to the ceiling, above me was a rope. It looked like any other rope you would find lying around, thick and tied into a knot at the tip so you could grip it, and I didn’t know exactly what else to do other than to pull it.

I tugged it, expecting some magic attic door to come crashing down and welcome me into a dusty floor filled with rooms that no one inhabited, but when I tugged it, nothing happened. I tugged it harder, looking at the ceiling for some miracle, but there was still nothing. I tugged it once more, giving it a good pull, and to my surprise, nothing happened. I was practically scratching my head by now, wondering if I should head back and ask the accountant about it. I turned around, ready to go down another flight of stairs, but as I was halfway to the third floor, I heard a loud groan and rumble that shook me almost to my knees!

The sound was that of a moan and then a squeak followed by the sound of something hard hitting the floor above me. I ran up the stairs in excitement to see what it was and was greeted by a most pleasant sight, one that I was definitely not expecting. There was a flight of stairs that twisted into the ceiling of the fourth floor and revealed yet another floor! It’s wooden panels matched those of all the other staircases and it too made my head feel a bit light. I smiled, as if I had just seen magic, although I thought that perhaps I did since this wasn’t technology that even the 21st century had ever invented!

I climbed the staircase, my feet lighter than before and surprisingly more energetic with the way that they bounced against the steps, and climbed yet another flight of stairs to reach the staircase leading to the sixth floor. I could see from the fifth floor to the ninth which was reassuring. I was glad that I wouldn’t have to pull yet another rope, but I knew that judging by the way that there was yet another staircase leading into the ceiling on the top floor, there had to be at least four other floors to this building.

What was odd was that when I had first seen the hotel, it was relatively small with only two or three floors give or take, but I was now on the sixth floor and there were yet even more floors available. This defied the laws of science! The hotel was bigger on the inside, like Hermione’s purse! These flights of stairs could be infinite! I was far more excited than I should have been, considering that I still thought I was in a dream and that when I wake up, I’ll be back on my death bed only for a moment to take my last breath and then leave into the dark abyss. It was a bit worrying actually but that didn’t matter to me.

I was enjoying my last moments. My last moments alive, my last moments in a place that I may never return to, and yet when I reached the seventh floor and braced myself for the door at the end of the hall, I felt like stopping myself. I felt like turning back and running down the stairs and out the hotel door and I felt like breathing in my last heaves of fresh air and running through every street with my arms outstretched and my voice loud. I couldn’t. I couldn’t just run my whole life.

I can’t run like my father, shout like my mother, or fight like my brother. In a place like this, where no one exists and nothing dwells, could I really be remembered? Could I really conceive an enjoyable life? I walked further down the hall, each step like dropping great weights, and before I knew it, I had turned to face a door that read the numbers ‘784.’

Author's Note

I should mention that this world is full of strange surprises so don't see this as the only one! There are many more to come!