Doors: Hotel Hell

Chapter 9 (The Greenhouse)

As the group pushed open the heavy metal door labeled Ninety-One, they stepped into the greenhouse. A humid, oppressive air greeted them, the scent of wet earth and overgrown plants filling their lungs. The brick path underfoot was slick with rainwater that had seeped in through the many shattered windows lining the walls. Everything beyond the path was tangled grass and vines, overtaking the structure like nature had been reclaiming it for years. It felt alive. Too alive.

Billy flicked his lighter, the small flame sputtering weakly, barely illuminating a few feet around them. The low flicker cast eerie shadows on the walls, making every vine look like a hand reaching out, every plant like it was waiting to ensnare them. Norman looked around uneasily through the shadows.

"There's no power..."

The lights above them were out... Lifeless.

"No way to know when... when Rush-"

"Shh!"

Aaron hissed, his eyes darting to the windows. Outside, the storm raged, rain pounding against the glass like a relentless drumbeat. Thunder cracked violently overhead, shaking the greenhouse. It was deafening-so loud that hearing Rush's approach, or anything for that matter, would be impossible. Billy held up his lighter, revealing overgrown, dilapidated closets along the walls. Some were completely encased in thick vines, blocking the doors.

"Great..."

He muttered, pulling back some damp blonde hair from his forehead. Billy continued.

"We've got closets, but some of them need to be cut open first. And this lighter's gonna run out soon."

Aaron nodded and gripped the shears they found earlier tighter. His heart raced as he thought about what was ahead of them. The final test. The last ten doors. Everything they had faced up until now-the relentless chases, the terrifying entities-was nothing compared to what was coming. Everything in this hotel wanted them dead, and the Greenhouse was going to be the gauntlet that pushed them to the edge. Lando narrowed his eyes, whispering.

"We can't see anything... And we won't hear Rush. We're practically sitting ducks in here."

They moved cautiously, Aaron cutting through vines to open hiding spots, knowing the storm would mask their only warning signs. It was as if the hotel itself was trying to strip away their senses, forcing them to rely on instinct alone. With each closet they opened, there was a brief moment of hope-maybe they'd find something useful, something that would help them survive. But there was nothing. Just emptiness and silence, save for the storm's roar outside. George looked up nervously, his fingers twitching.

"We have to be ready for anything. Anything."

Aaron finally lifted the green flashlight they had scavenged from Butch's corpse. It had the word Shake on it, so Aaron did. Once he did, a green light emerged from the flashlight.

"Okay..."

The light was weaker than a normal flashlight and ran out very quickly, but as long as it was shaken, there would be light. The group spread out, staying close enough to each other to see in the dim light, but far enough to avoid bottlenecks if they had to run. Aaron's shears clipped through the thick vines at another closet door, his hands shaking slightly as he forced the stubborn plants away. He knew they had to be quick, had to be prepared, because whatever was coming... It was going to come fast.

Suddenly, Billy's lighter flickered.

Billy swore under his breath, shaking it, but the flame barely held on.

"Damn it. We're running on fumes here."

The oppressive darkness around them seemed to close in tighter as the flame began to die out. Without the lighter, they'd just be left with the unreliable light that Aaron had. Each shadow stretched longer, and the constant downpour and booming thunder made it impossible to think, impossible to focus on anything but the mounting dread in their chests. Aaron looked at the others, his voice low but firm.