Double Vision

31

031. viraliya .

apr. 6, 2024.

10:59 a.m.

I shoved my hand in my pockets, kicking a rock as I walked down the street. Ryan said the last place he saw Rene was at The Luxor, so I'm gonna check there.

I could see The Luxor from a long way away. The place was huge. Walking in Las Vegas is so irritating, because you get stopped and asked for pictures almost every damn second.

I think Ryan said Rene was in the bathroom before he left. I'm not allowed in the men's bathroom. Shit, I wish Bella was alive. She could've totally passed as a man.

As I finally reached The Luxor, walking inside, I got hit with a massive wave of air conditioning that made me colder than I was outside, but only as I was walking through the doors.

I made my way through the bustling casino floor, dodging crowds of tourists and the occasional overzealous card dealer trying to lure me into a game. The sound of slot machines chimed in the background, mixing with the chatter of excited patrons and the distant hum of conversation.

Navigating through the maze of flashing lights and elaborate décor, I finally reached the corridor leading to the restrooms. Glancing around discreetly, I checked for any sign of security or staff, ensuring I wouldn't draw attention to myself as I made my way towards the men's restroom entrance.

As I approached, I pulled my hood over my head. I knew I had to act confidently to avoid suspicion. With a quick glance over my shoulder to confirm no one was watching, I took a deep breath and pushed open the door, slipping inside before anyone could question my presence.

Hopefully no one questions a supposed man in a skirt.

The restroom was surprisingly empty, but I got hit with the same eerie coldness I had in Mr. Herzig's office as I walked further into the restroom.

The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a harsh glow over the tiled floor and rows of stalls. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant, mixed with the musky scent of cologne and cigarette smoke.

I made my way past the row of sinks, keeping my gaze focused straight ahead, trying not to attract any unnecessary attention. My heart pounded in my chest with every step, the anticipation of what I might find tightening knots in my stomach.

Reaching the last stall at the end of the row, I hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open slowly, the hinges creaking softly in protest. Peering inside, I scanned the dimly lit space, my eyes adjusting to the darkness.

I felt immediately colder than I did in any other area of the restroom. I quickly shut the stall.

Ghosts aren't real. Ghosts aren't real. Ghosts aren't real. Rene was not murdered by a ghost. Ghosts. Are. Not. Real.

Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I forced myself to focus. I couldn't afford to let irrational fears cloud my judgment, not when Rene's life might be on the line. With determination fueling my movements, I began to search the rest of the restroom.

Each stall I checked was empty, adding to the growing sense of unease gnawing at the pit of my stomach.

As I reached the last stall on the opposite end of the row, a faint sound caught my attention. It was a soft whimpering, barely audible over the air conditioning and the distant noise of the casino floor.

My heart skipped a beat as I pushed open the stall door, my breath catching in my throat at the sight before me. There, huddled on the floor, was a small girl. 

I pressed my lips together, crouching down. "You're not supposed to be in here."

She looked up at me with wide eyes — or, no, a wide eye. One of her eyes were missing. There was a red skull imprinted on her cheek, but I decided to ignore it and just hope it was one of those fake tattoos.

"This is the men's bathroom." I gestured to the door. "You shouldn't be in here."

"You shouldn't be in here, either," she replied in a weak voice.

I furrowed my brow, studying her carefully. She seemed to be in distress, her frail frame trembling as she clutched onto her tattered pink dress.

"What are you doing here all alone?" I asked gently, trying to keep my voice calm despite the growing concern bubbling within me.

She glanced around nervously before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm hiding...from the bad men."

"Can you tell me what happened?" I prompted, keeping my tone as soothing as possible. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head. "They'll take my other eye, too." she pointed to her right eye, which was just an empty socket.

"Listen to me," I said firmly, trying to convey a sense of reassurance despite the turmoil raging inside me. "You're safe now. I won't let anyone hurt you, I promise."

Gently, I reached out my hand, going to rest it on her shoulder, and my heart sank when my hand went straight through her body.

Fuck no. Fuck no. Fuck no.

I immediately stood up, sprinting away. I didn't want to look back. Ghosts are not real. Ghosts are not real. Ghosts are not real.

I ran, breathing heavily, running the hell out of that hotel.

My mind raced as I bolted through the corridors of The Luxor, each step echoing in my ears like the pounding of a drum. The encounter with the ghostly girl left me shaken to the core, questioning my sanity and the very fabric of reality.

I burst out of the hotel doors into the blinding sunlight, the warmth of the desert air offering little solace to the chill that still clung to my bones. My thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and fear, desperately trying to rationalize what I had just experienced.

With trembling hands, I reached for my phone, fingers fumbling as I dialed Ryan's number. He picked up after a few rings, his voice filled with concern as he answered.

"'Morning..." Ryan croaked, sounding like I had just woken him up.

I struggled to find the right words, the memory of the ghostly encounter still fresh in my mind. "Ghosts are real." was the first thing that spilled out of my mouth, even though that wasn't what I meant to say.

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Ryan responded, confused. "Sorry? Are you running?"

"Yes!" I yelled in an breathless voice. "I need you! Tell everyone to meet up at the police station, I don't care that it's a damn Saturday!"

Ryan's voice took on a more urgent tone. "Okay, okay, calm down. I'll get everyone together. What's going on?"

I tried to steady my breathing, attempting to relay the events that had just unfolded. "I was at The Luxor, checking the restroom like we discussed, and I saw something. Something I can't explain."

"What did you see?" Ryan asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"It was a little girl, but she wasn't really there. And she... she had no eye, and there was this skull mark on her face," I stammered, struggling to articulate the surreal experience. "And then I went to put my hand on her shoulder and it went right through her and I just got up and ran."

Ryan was silent for a moment, processing my words. "Alright, I'll round everyone up. Meet us at the police station as soon as you can. We need to figure out what's going on."

I could hear the urgency in his voice, matching the frantic beat of my own heart. "I'll be there," I promised before ending the call and stuffing my phone back into my pocket.