Whispers

Chapter 7

Jeremy and I decided to lay low for a few days since Mr. Richards caught us. There was nothing fancy going on, either. We all just did random activities. I stayed put in the library, just as Mrs. Richards had said. I also couldn't resist to look up more about the mansion. I gave up on day two. I had found basic history, but couldn't find anything that answered my questions. There was only one way to find out everything. I'd have to ask old man Mr. Richards. Dred flooded through me at the thought, and my nerves spiked. What if I asked the wrong questions? What if he tells me to get lost?

My teenage boy confidence was slowly fading the longer we were here. A few facts remained, though. One, I haven't had a single nightmare. Two, I was living in the same house from my nightmares. Three, that woman is real. Four, Jeremy is still scared shitless of that creepy boy.

Speaking of that little boy, I started drawing him on day two of being cooped up in the library. I drew detail by detail what he looked like. I did it in black and white, but I made sure to add the details of his eyes. They were red rimmed and dark when we saw him, but I didn't have any colored pencils to depict that. I also decided to sketch out the woman I saw in my dreams. I've seen her so often in my dreams that I remember her face as if I was staring at her in that moment.

Around dusk, I finally managed to get the courage to ask old man Mr. Richards. I took the drawings with me. Maybe he'll find them interesting and be able to tell me if he's seen these two before. I just hope he'll give me answers. I walked down the hall and towards the lobby. I fiddled with the two drawings in my hands. I got to the lobby and paused. Old man Mr. Richards was talking to a guest from the first floor rooms. I was about to second guess myself and turn back when he saw me. He waved me over as if he knew I was coming to talk to him.

"Thank you very much, sir. It was nice for you to come and stay with us," old man Mr. Richards said with a toothy grin. The guest walked away with his luggage and I walked up to the front desk. "What can I do for you, boy?"

"I want to know more about this place." It was a firm statement. He looked surprised as if nobody had really asked about this place in depth before.

"I told you all I know the other day, son." He frowned as he turned around and shuffled some stuff around.

"Look, something happened here. I've seen things." He stopped what he was doing and slowly turned his head to look at me. "I even have proof."

"Show me." I took out my phone and showed him the same video I showed Mrs. Richards. He was spooked and turned pale. "No way."

"There's something else." I set the drawings on the counter in front of him. "These two. I've seen this little boy here, too."

"Come with me, boy." He rounded the counter, grabbed my shoulder and pulled me down towards where him and his wife lived. I stumbled a bit while trying to keep up. For an old man who usually uses a cane, he could walk fast when he wanted to. He opened a door and a small set of stairs lead into a cozy living room. He let go of my shoulder and motioned for me to come inside a room filled with papers and books. There was not a single spot of clear area besides the floor. "Before my mother married my step-dad when I was thirty, I was a researcher. A damn good one, boy."

"What does that have to do with this building?"

"Because it's how I inherited the hotel." He looked at me like I was stupid. "Anyway, When I found out that I would be obtaining the hotel, I wanted to do as much research as I could. I found newspapers, pictures, and the works. I've heard stories from guests and people who live around here, even servants."

"Like what?" I sat down in one of the three chairs in the room as he shuffled through papers.

"Well, that a woman would come and visit them while they were asleep. Nobody's ever got her on film until you."