Seer of the St. James Hotel (Section 3)

This section holds the climax of the story, as well as its aftermath.

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Carson sat on the couch opposite Mike in the modern day lobby; he was rubbing his head in confusion.

“So…” He began, “You’re a seer?”

“Apparently, that’s what Marie said.” Mike said.

“The dead prostitute told you.” Carson rubbed his head harder.

“Hey you’re supposed to know this stuff.” Mike replied.

“This is just pushing my thoughts to a huge extent.” Carson explained. “I don’t even know of any other seers in the world, I’ve just heard of them.”

“Well they exist, and you’re talking to one right now.” Mike said.

“Coming from the person who literally only an hour ago said psychics are bullshit.” Carson sighed.

“Ideas change.” Mike said simply.

“Not this fast.” Carson shook his head.

“Look, you’ve got to believe me, Carson.” Mike almost pleaded to him. “You saw it for yourself.”

“I don’t know what I saw exactly.” Carson replied.

“She said I needed your help to expose the true killer.” Mike said.

“Oh, she said it, that makes it better.” Carson said sarcastically. “I don’t even know how I can help.”

“Just use that weird static box, so I can communicate with you, tell you the name when I see the guy.” Mike explained.

“And why can’t you just tell me when you come out of your daze?” Carson asked.

“Cause I might not remember it.” Mike replied.

“You won’t remember it?” Carson looked puzzled.

“I don’t remember some parts of being in there, really only my conversation with Marie, and some parts of that are even missing.” Mike said.

“So you need me to record my ghost conversation with you through the static box, so we can have it documented while you still remember?” Carson summed up his part in the situation.

“How do we know it’ll work?” Carson asked.

“We need to test it, so we need you standing somewhere in the hotel using the box, she’s going to take me back in again tonight.” Mike said.

“When?” Carson wondered.

“I don’t remember.” Mike said slowly, trying to recollect.

“Can we do it in the room?” Carson inquired.

“No.” Mike replied quickly.

“Why not?” Carson asked.

“I don’t remember that either, but there’s a very good reason why not.” Mike said.

“Well then what about the ballroom?” Carson suggested.

“Yeah, yeah that’s a good idea.” Mike agreed.

“And now you don’t know when she’ll bring you back?” Carson said.

“No, all I know is that the murder occurred shortly after three o’clock in the morning.” Mike explained. “So it could be anytime between now and then.”

“Okay, so at three o’clock I have to be in the room with the static box, and you’re going to be in the spirit world, and you’re going to tell me the name of the killer when you see him.” Carson ran through the whole plan.

“Right, and remember, you have to record it.” Mike told him.

“Right, except,” Carson brought up a problem, “how will you know the killers name to the face to see?”

“Oh, damn,” Mike looked instantly distraught, “that’s right, I don’t know any of their names!”

“I don’t know any of them either, all I know is some things about them.” Carson said.

“How the hell are we supposed to figure out the name of those suspects before I go back?” Mike was now up and pacing.

“Okay, relax,” Carson thought hard, “I know a woman, she’s a Chicago historian, she knows all about this hotel, I’m sure she’ll know the suspects names, and have pictures of them.”

“Great!” Mike looked instantly relieved.

“Plus she’s a psychic, so she may be able to help.” Carson exclaimed.

“Alright, get her on the phone!” Mike rushed him.

“You got a quarter?” Carson asked.

“You don’t have a cell phone?” Mike looked almost disgusted.

“Mine’s charging.” Carson said, “Do you?”

“Mine is for work calls only, nothing personal.” Mike explained.

“So you don’t have a personal cell phone either?” Carson pointed out.

“Just take the quarter.” Mike tossed him to coin with a scoff.

“Alright, I’m gonna find me a payphone not underneath a sprinkler.” Carson laughed. “And you should go get me another one of those steak sauce Bloody Mary’s.”

“I don’t think this is a time for drinks.” Mike protested.

“Or don’t,” Carson said, “be that way.” At that, he wandered off to find a payphone.

Mike sat down and watched Carson casually stroll through the lobby, he seemed utterly without a care in the world, like everything that had gone on throughout the night either hadn’t happened or hadn’t bothered him.

Mike stayed intrigued by the near skip in Carson’s step until the ring of his work only cell phone cut his concentration. He didn’t even let it ring a full time before he flipped it open and answered.

“Hello.” He greeted.

“Mike, I’ve been trying to reach you all night.” The other line was occupied by the familiar voice of Kent Thatcher.

“Kent?” Mike sat up with surprise. “This is a work only line.”

“Oh who gives a s**t about that, I needed to call my best friend, you sounded worried the last time I talked to you.” Kent replied

“If I’m honestly your best friend I feel extremely sorry for you.” Mike said in a harsh monotone.

“Ouch, that hurts man, I’m just trying to help.” Kent said.

“Well I don’t think there’s anything going on over here you can help with Kent.” Mike sighed.

“Oh, please, there ain’t nothin’ the Kent-man can’t fix.” Kent said confidently.

“I’d have to disagree with you there.” Mike thought of all that had happened so far.

“Look, I’m gonna come over there and help you through whatever depression or stress or whatever you’re in, cause that’s what friends do.” Kent said. “Then we’re both gonna get good long sleep’s in so we can be ready for the presentation tomorrow.”

“Oh, s**t, we have a presentation tomorrow.” Mike groaned with the remembrance of his obligation.

“You forgot?” Kent sounded surprised and slightly angry.

“If you went through what I’ve gone through tonight, you’d forget your own mother’s name.” Mike tried to explain.

“Okay, its obvious there’s something wrong with you, so just give like a fifteen minutes or so to get through traffic and I’ll be by your side.” Kent spoke valiantly.

“You really don’t have to.” Mike tried persuading him.

“Nonsense, now I need to go grab a cab, I’ll see you in a few.” Kent hung up quickly.

Mike hung up his phone and slumped back down in his chair. He had a feeling that everything was about to get much, much worse.

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A few minutes later, Carson returned to the couches where Mike still slouched down, alone with his thoughts.

“She’s going to find the pictures and the name records of them all and she’ll be down here.” He explained.

“What time, did she say?” Mike wondered, sitting up.

“She said around midnight she’d be here.” Carson replied.

“Great, that should give us a good amount of time to figure everything out before three.” Mike sighed.

“She also said you should read Psalm forty one, she said it might help protect you from the bad spirit following you.” Carson said.

“What the hell is Psalm forty one?” Mike asked.

“It’s a Bible verse.” Carson explained.

“Well where can I find a Bible here?” Mike wondered.

“I’m sure there’s one in your room, but you may want to ask the front desk lady if there’s any more anywhere else.” Carson said.

“Yeah, I really don’t want to go back into the room.” Mike stood up. “I’ll go ask her.”

“You need me to go too?” Carson asked.

“No, just hang back a while.” Mike said. “And if a scrawny guy with over gelled hair who looks like he’s on coke comes in here looking for me, you never saw me.”

“Okay.” Carson said in utter confusion.

“Great.” Mike said, and began walking to the front desk.

After waiting in the short line for his usual teller, he approached her, and she greeted him with a smile.

“Hello again Mr. Terry, how can I help you?” She asked happily.

“Do you know if I can find a Bible anywhere besides the rooms?” Mike asked quietly.

“The Bibles are only available in the rooms I’m afraid.” She replied. “Is there something wrong with your room.”

“You could say that.” Mike said.

“Do you want to switch rooms?” She suggested.

“No, that room is alright.” Mike said quickly. “Thanks anyway.” He gave her a slight wave, which she returned to him, and he walked toward the elevators. Now he knew he had to go and face the room again.

The ride up the elevator was just as excruciating as it ever was. He couldn’t seem to reach the third floor quick enough. The doors opened up again to reveal the eerily empty hallway, as it had always been. But now the stench of the butcher shop was worse than ever, Mike stood and debated whether or not to even go out into the rancid air or not. But as the elevator doors began to close, he quickly made the decision to jump out and into the hallway.

Mike quickly covered his face with his hand to attempt to protect himself from the stench, and sprinted to his room, trying not to breath. He reached his room in a matter of seconds and swiftly slid the key into the doorknob, but then he stood still. He knew the Bible was probably in the end table, which was just a few seconds of a mad dash from the door. But still he stood.

His hand began to tremble as he slowly turned the key. He heard the lock click, and he stood still for another moment. He pushed the door, and it creaked inward a few inches.

Mike the shoved open the door and bolted towards the end table, leaping over the bed in the process. He yanked open the drawer and snatched the brown, hard cover copy of the Bible and spun back towards the door.

He made a mad dash to the exit. He let out a small shriek when he saw the door had shut behind him in just the few seconds that he was gone. But without missing a beat he swung it open, slammed it behind him, pulled the key from the lock and bolted down the hall.

Mike took the stairs down, leaping over almost all of them, only running on the small landings between the staircases. He stopped for a moment on the second floor to catch his breath. As his huffed and puffed he looked around the halls, there were the sounds of people wandering up and down, looking for their rooms and casually talking. There was no creepy ambiance, no horrid meat smell, and no haunted room on the second floor. It baffled Mike how much a few feet of ceiling made a difference.

He then turned his attention to the Bible.

“Okay, Psalms, Psalms.” He said to himself, beginning to flip quickly through the pages. As he did he noticed something odd, the pages were not marked. They had no page numbers, no section markings at all. He opened the book completely, and was immediately horrified. The page he opened to was completely blank, no words, no nothing, just blank white space. He flipped frantically through other pages, only to be met with identical blank pages.

Mike turned back to the staircase and resumed is leaps and sprints down the stairs towards the lobby.

When he got down into the large open area, he saw Carson still standing about, looking though the pictures on his camera again.

“Carson!” Mike called to him.

“Yeah?” He turned, a little confused by Mike’s terrified look.

“Nothings here.” Mike showed him the Bible.

“You’re probably just not reading the right section.” Carson took the Bible.

“No!” Mike insisted. “There’s nothing at all, the pages are blank!”

Carson looked at him with a little grin, and opened to book for himself. That smile disappeared immediately.

“That is…very strange.” Carson panned through the pages like Mike had.

Just then, Jerry approached and interrupted the conversation.

“Hey Carson,” He said, “Beth is looking for you, she looks pissed.”

“Not now Jerry.” Carson dismissed him.

“You can’t hide from her all night.” Jerry replied.

“I know that!” Carson snapped. “And I don’t plan to, now shoo!” Jerry reluctantly obeyed.

This was the first time Mike had actually seen Carson seem legitimately angry.

“What was that all about?” Mike wondered.

“This night’s just taking a lot out of me, and we need to start that conference in the morning. It’s a whole lot of stress.” Carson sighed, still paging through the blank Bible.

“I know what you mean.” Mike sighed as well, knowing he had his presentation in the morning.

Just then, a strange, loud creak echoed through the lobby, interrupting their conversation. Another one quickly followed, now everyone in the area was looking around in confusion. A third, much louder creak came, and, it seemed just as Mike had set his eyes on it, the beautiful chandelier ripped away from the ceiling, taking a large portion with it. It crashed to the floor, rattling the ground and almost knocking Mike and Carson off their feet. That shake was accompanied by a huge wave of dust and the all too familiar smell of rotting meat.

Mike looked up at the huge hole in the ceiling; it was spraying water down to the floor. Although it wasn’t blood colored, Mike knew that’s where the smell was coming from.

Right then, Carson looked up and through the thick dust cloud, he saw something.

“Jerry!” He yelled, and ran towards the wreckage.

Mike glanced over and saw what Carson had, a rubble covered body, limp and seemingly lifeless, with the familiar face of Jerry.

Carson rushed over to his friend’s body, shoving chunks of rock off of him. Mike slowly approached. As Mike got over Jerry, he could see the full extent of what had happened, and he knew Carson could as well, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

“Jerry, Jerry?” Carson whispered, giving the corpse a few gentle slaps to try and awaken him, but it only gave a blank, cloudy stare. “Jerry?” Carson said again, his voice cracking.

People were now beginning to crowd around the scene, several on their cell phones calling for help.

The smell of the water was horrifying, but Carson didn’t care, and neither did Mike.

“Jesus.” Mike said, his voice barely audible, even to him.

“Somebody do something!” Carson yelled to the terrified crowd. “Mike?” He looked up at him with a look of depression and melancholy the likes of which Mike had never seen, and, in fact, wished it had stayed that way.

“I’m sorry.” Mike said simply. “I can’t.” Mike began taking steps backward. “I can’t stay here anymore.” He fully turned and began a quick walk towards the doors.

“Mike?” Carson watched him walk, with eyes like a dog that’s owner has just abandoned them by the roadside. “Mike!” He screamed in anger and dejection. “You can’t leave!” He yelled, Mike just kept on walking. “You can’t leave!” He repeated, a little quieter. Once again Mike didn’t even slow his gate, and walked out of the revolving door and into the windy Chicago dusk.

 

 

 

 

 

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Mike ran out onto the sidewalk just in time to wave for a passing cab. The yellow car creaked to a halt in front of him and he quickly got in.

“Where to?” The cabby asked.

“Anywhere but here.” A disheveled Mike replied, and the cab rolled out onto the street.

The road was crowded with cars, but they all seemed to be moving very quickly. Mike looked in the review mirror as the cab sped away; he watched the tall building slowly getting smaller.

Just then, another large headache hit him. He knew immediately what it was, and rubbed his head just as another wave of pain hit him.

“You can’t leave.” A voice whispered in his head.

“Shut up.” Mike groaned in pain, the cabby looked back at him as if he were crazy.

“You can’t leave!” The voice yelled to him.

All of a sudden, Mike felt an odd feeling just underneath his nose. He lifted his finger up and rubbed the area gently. When he pulled his finger away to look at it, he saw it was covered with red. His nose had begun to bleed.

“You can’t leave!” The voice repeated.

“Stop the cab!” Mike shouted at the driver, who obeyed. A car behind them squealed its breaks and honked. Mike leaped out, giving the cabby a slight wave and sprinting back towards the hotel.

Mike returned to the hotel just as a large group of cop cars, ambulances, and fire trucks pulled up to the curb. He heard them all scurrying around in the street as he rushed through one of the revolving doors and into the chaos of the lobby.

Now that the dust had settled, Mike could see the full extent of the damage. Small pieces of ceiling were strewn everywhere, all culminating in a huge pile where the chandelier had fallen, broken glass and twisted metal was everywhere. Someone had covered Jerry’s body with a white sheet; he appeared to be the only fatality of the situation.

Mike stood and searched around, but Carson was nowhere to be found. The only people in the lobby now were the large groups all just standing and staring, some looked horrified, as if they might cry, while others stood, fascinated, holding up their cell phones to snap a picture or two before the police walled the whole area off.

Mike ran down a hallway near by, he had to find Carson. He knew there were only a few places he’d be hiding.

The first area he checked was the pool area, now empty. All the kids had gone to bed, and all the adults were most likely in the lobby, getting a look at the horror show first hand.

Mike walked up to the man behind the bar.

“Did a guy come in here recently?” Mike asked.

“Well a lot of people come in here.” The bartender replied.

“Any person who ordered a Bloody Mary with steak sauce?” Mike elaborated.

“Oh, that guy.” The bartender recollected. “Yeah, he came in her about a minute or so ago, he looked real sad and shook up about something. He ordered the drink and wandered off. I tried telling him that he couldn’t take the glass out of the pool area, but he was gone before I could get a sentence in.”

“Do you know where he went?” Mike wondered.

“He didn’t say, but when he left he went back towards the lobby.” The bartender replied.

“Thanks.” Mike said.

“Say, what’s going on out there anyhow?” The bartender asked as Mike left.

“Go and see.” Mike replied. “I don’t want to explain it.” He quickly left before the bar man could ask him anything else.

Mike arrived back in the lobby as the police were almost finished taping off most of the central area of the lobby.

“Hey.” An officer called out to him. “Did you see what happened here?” He asked Mike.

“No.” Mike lied, not wanting to answer any of the officer’s questions. “Sorry.” He quickly turned and walked towards the elevators.

Mike began approaching one another, much shriller, voice called to him.

“Hey!” Beth barked at him. “Where is that lying b*****d Carson? I know you know.” She seemed to have either no idea what had happened, or absolutely zero compassion, Mike figured the latter.

“Look,” Mike began calmly, “I don’t think Carson probably has it in him to talk to you right now.”

“I don’t care, he lied to me, now I’m kicking his a*s out of this place, and I’m going to make sure he never comes back!” She sneered.

“Okay, look,” Mike’s tone changed to a stern command, “I’m not sure why you two don’t like each other, and frankly, I don’t care. But Carson lost a friend in this accident, so I highly recommend you quit being a b***h, and just back off.” Mike took a small step closer to his adversary. “I don’t know what happened in your life to make you this way; I highly doubt grade school was very good to you. But now is not a time for you to be bringing back repressed memories of your horrid childhood in order to stain other peoples lives. So please, listen good to this because I mean this with the most sincerity I have in my entire being,” Mike leaned in close to her and made strong eye contact, “go f**k yourself.”

 At that, Mike turned away, victorious, and made his way back to the elevators. He slowly walked up to one and hit the button, as he did that it hit him, he knew exactly where Carson went. As the doors opened he leapt in a hit the button for the top floor.

-

Mike burst through the door to the roof to find Carson standing, drink in hand, looking out at the lit up Chicago skyline.

“Carson!” Mike ran to him.

“Mike?” Carson spoke quietly, but with a tone of surprise. “I was under the impression you’d gone.”

“I can’t leave.” Mike explained. “It won’t let me go, you have to help me.”

“I’m sorry.” Carson shook his head. “I can’t do it, not now.”

“Carson, please.” Mike pleaded. “I need your help.”

“You know what the last thing I said to him was?” Carson stared at Mike with a look of self-loathing. “I shooed him away. I literally told him to shoo.”

“I can’t imagine how hard this is for you.” Mike said sympathetically, “But I just want this whole experience to be over with.”

“So leave.” Carson replied, taking a sip of his drink.

“I can’t” Mike reiterated, “It won’t let me go.”

“Well then I don’t know what to tell you.” Carson said simply.

“Carson I-” Mike started, but was cut off by another piercing hurt in his head. He stumbled slightly, and another shock came. A few seconds later he tripped backward and as he landed on the rocky roof surface, he blacked out once again.

-

Mike awoke quickly back on the roof. It dark still, the air was cold and humid, nothing like he had remembered it. He got up quickly, Carson was gone, but Marie was standing in his place.

“Why did you bring me here again?” Mike asked.

“I don’t have a lot of time so I’ll just get to it.” Marie replied. “You need to get Carson back on your side, you need him to continue.”

“But how?” Mike wondered. “He’s immovable.”

“I only know of one thing that might help.” She said.

“What?” Mike asked.

“Tell him that Kath would want him to do it.” Marie explained.

“Who the hell is Kath?” Mike looked confused.

“It’s his wife.” She said.

“Carson’s married?” Mike looked flabbergasted.

“Was married.” Marie corrected. “She died.”

“How do you know all this?” Mike wondered.

“I have my sources.” Marie replied secretively. “When you’re in a place like this, their basically endless.”

“Do you care to elaborate?” Mike asked.

Just then, the ground started shaking.

“Oh, no.” Marie said, looking around, “You have to go.” She approached him.

“No, wait, I have more questions.” He objected.

Ignoring him, she flicked him on the forehead, which at first seemed to do nothing. But after a few moments, all Mike’s surrounding began to fade into white.

-

Mike awoke in the same setting, with the air warm as he’d remembered; Carson loomed over him just as he had before.

“That was quick.” Carson said, only looking at him with a slight angle.

“How long was I out?” Mike asked, standing up.

“A minute,” Carson replied, “maybe less.”

“Look,” Mike stated, “you need to help me out.”

“I can’t.” Carson shook his head again.

“You have to.” Mike asserted.

“Why?” Carson asked, taking another drink.

“Because…” Mike hesitated, “because Kath would want you to.”

Carson lowered his glass slowly and turned to Mike, the response seemed to horrify him.

“What the f**k did you just say?” Carson asked in disbelief.

“Kath would want you to help me.” Mike said again, still with some hesitation.

“How the hell do you know about her?” Carson looked almost angry.

“Marie told me,” Mike replied, “just now.”

“Do you know who she was?” Carson asked.

“She was your wife.” Mike said.

“If that’s all you know, you don’t know anything.” Carson replied.

“Well why don’t you tell me?” Mike suggested.

“Kath and I were one of those high school romances,” Carson began his anecdote, “insufferable, everyone said we’d make it. And they were right; we married right out of school and moved to Elgin. We started the team we’ve got now almost ten years ago. All we wanted to do was to help people, help them deal with what they couldn’t understand. We brought in some of our friends to help us, and the group got started. Jerry was one of her friends, if you can believe that.” Carson chuckled slightly. “Then she caught wind of this hotel, and wanted to start something here. After a few stagnant investigations we decided to start hosting paranormal conferences every year. The first was a great success, we were all proud.” He smiled, but that quickly faded, and he just stood silent for a moment.

“What happened Carson?” Mike asked.

“Well,” Carson continued, “Not too long after that, she found out she had Leukemia.” He struggled with his words, “We both knew it ran in her family, but we were confidant that she wouldn’t get it. That was us; Mr. and Mrs. Confidant.” Carson let out another nervous chuckle. “She died, three months after the diagnosis.” He paused again to regain himself. “I’ve talked to her a few times since then, through that static box we’ve got downstairs. She says she’s happy.” He turned to Mike. “But I’m not. All she wanted to do in this field was help others, teach them how to deal with what was happening, and that’s all she wanted to do for me after the diagnosis. She wanted to teach me how to deal with her death; she wanted me to be happy more than I wanted her to be I think. But I never could deal with it, I spent all this time dealing with what happens after death, I really thought I could handle being there when it happens. But I wasn’t, and I don’t think I ever will be. I watched my wife, wither and die in front of me, and tonight with Jerry, it just brings back the worst feelings.” Carson’s head sunk. “But you’re right.” His head lifted back up a little. “She’d want me to help you, and I’m sure Jerry would too. It’s just gonna take a little bit.”

“Take as much time as you need, Carson.” Mike said softly.

“Head back downstairs, meet me at the table in the pool area.” Carson instructed, head still low. “I’m gonna finish my drink and I’ll be down.”

“Alright.” Mike said, and walked slowly towards the door, leaving Carson to watch out over the bright Chicago lights.

As Carson heard Mike shut the door behind him, he looked down at the drink in his hand. After a few seconds thought he tossed the glass casually off the side of the building.

“You always knew how to get me.” He whispered into the air. “Even if it took just a mention of your name.” Carson laughed a little and became lost in the white glaze the city lights created on the black night sky.

Author's Note

As always, ignore grammar, lack of indents, and the length, it was just another portion that had to be lumped together. I'm going to try and make smaller parts in the future.