Roblox Doors

Chapter 4 - Call of the Unforgotten

The clock struck 11, and Rush breathed. One hour before midnight. One hour. One peaceful hour, in which they wouldn't be haunted by Glitch, or made to kill anyone. An hour to regret, doubt, and in Rush's case - sleep. 

He found a sofa in the Library, tucked away in a corner. Allowing his shadows to settle, he closed his eyes, trying to drift off into a comfortable place of safety and quiet. Into a nap. A nice, lovely nap... 

"Psst."

No. He was dreaming. That noise wasn't real.

"Psst."

The noise was louder this time. It was real. Unfortunately.

Rush forced his eyes open, and glared at the entity hovering in front of him. It was composed of a black, inky substance, and its dorky smile was stretched across its spherical face. It had tentacles that wafted in the air eagerly, and two beady, glowing white eyes. It had a name: Screech. Although Rush liked to think of him as the alien turd who disrupted his naps, and now he came to think about it, every last important thing he still had in this miserable life.

So kill him.

"Sooooo?" Screech inquired innocently. "Can we play..?"

Grunting, Rush rose to meet him, scowling at the pathetic little thing. Play? Seriously? They had been trapped here for goodness knows how long, haunted and tortured, and now, this midget was asking him to play? 

"Screech," Rush snapped, anger biting at his words, "Leave. Me. Alone."

"But-"

"No buts." 

Screech's eyes glistened and he let out a childish whimper. Somewhere from the depths of the Library, the Figure growled, irritated. Rush had the feeling that it still hadn't forgiven either him or Ambush from the incident earlier on, and he wasn't about to gamble his life over Screech's desire to play. Just on cue, Ambush glided in through the golden doors, noticed him sitting there, and waltzed over. The green entity gave Screech a look of intense hatred, and without another word Screech exited the Library. 

"Good riddance," Ambush muttered before seating herself on the sofa opposite him. She glanced at Rush. "I thought research would include a lot more books, y'know?"

Rush shrugged. "I lost interest."

Awkward silence filled the air, and just when Ambush was about to leave Rush to his nap, Rush remembered why he had left her in the first place. "The Rooms," he blurted suddenly. "What do you know about the Rooms?"

Ambush blinked. "Sorry?"

"The Rooms," Rush repeated. "And don't tell me you haven't heard of it before," he said when Ambush opened her mouth to speak. "I know you have."

"Look," Ambush snarled, "the Rooms is not a nice place. Ok? It's an old creepy building, with some old crazy lunatics in there who kill everything. There's nothing in there. Comprende? Nothing."

Rush surveyed Ambush for a moment. "Fine," he said. "Whatever."

And without another word, he left.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He left through the exit, said hi to Jeff and El Gooblino, and continued sulking as he made his way through the Hotel. He had nothing better to do, and after Screech happened sleep was no longer an option. 

Room 60. 

It was charred, dishevelled, and in need of renovating. Closets stood at awkward angles and tattered lining hung from the ceiling. Cobwebs and dust littered the place. It wasn't exactly the worst room in the Hotel, Rush reckoned, but it was just the one the gave him the creeps. He pushed at the air, willing the next door, to open, but it stayed stubbornly shut. 

Oh, joy.

He pulled and tugged at the door handle, even tried slice off its creaky hinges using his shadows. It didn't work. Rush frowned, standing back. "Weird," he murmured. It wasn't locked. So why wouldn't it open?

Something is stopping you from opening the door.

He heard it.

At first it was nothing more than a quiet, inanimate whispering. But then the room shook and swayed and deep thunder filled his ears. The whispering became a roar, and the roar became a static series of glitching screams of agony. The inhuman cries echoed through the room, and a strange cold filled the room, filled his soul, and Rush was turning, fiddling with door handle from the previous room, trying to escape, and the door wouldn't open and the noise was getting louder and his head was hurting and he couldn't breathe and he turned and a face was suspended in the air above him, a spectacular grin made of wires, sucking all life out of the room. It looked at Rush, then flew straight at him and Rush felt its presence, its soul, sink into his. Suddenly his dark subconscious felt real, and alive, and Rush screamed, writhing on the ground as it took control. 

And the Smileyface Man stood. 

He was no longer a tortured soul to be erased from history. Here he was, as ghostly as he may be, a living, breathing, human thing, a thing of power, and destruction, ready to extinguish the hope that still remained, snuff out the lives of those who still breathed, and tear the Hotel apart. 

Then the moment of glory was over. 

The Smileyface Man convulsed, fell to the ground once more, and all at once Rush felt his shadows coil back around him, and his mind was his once more. He gasped, glancing down at himself, only to see that he was an entity once more. The whispering was gone. Door 61 now swung open at his lightest touch. Rush flinched as it opened, expecting to see the being again, then remembered where it now resided.

Inside you.

There was a sick feeling buzzing at every end of his shadows; the sick feeling of realisation. Suddenly he was aware of many things. He was aware of the world becoming distant and the Hotel spinning around him. He became aware of the voice that now spoke to him, begging to be let out. He was also faintly aware of the newfound power bubbling from somewhere within. And despite the fear, he felt something else. Somewhere else, he was excited. He wanted to feel that level of power again. 

Soon, the voice inside him said. Soon.