Don't Listen to Your Heart

1920's Horror Shift

"Sasha, wake up! We have to go" a familiar voice soon says, I moan and turn my body to the other part of the bed.

"C'mon, we need to go away from this place" he insists, grabbing me.

"Wait, what-" I start as I suddenly gasp, John's body is full of blood. He looks like he's seen a ghost. Wait, I didn't want it to sound as black humor. We're all ghosts in here. I take a careful look at him, still in shock, trying to understand what must've happened to him and why he wants to leave in the middle of the night. But, again, why was he even here at this time of night? Did he sleep here?

"Is that your blood?"

"No. Please, something's wrong, we need to leave now. Grab your stuff and let's go" he nervously says with fast anxious breaths.

"What do you mean by something's wrong?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"It might sound totally crazy but, all the calendars say it's 1920. There's a lot of people out there dressed up like ancient people. Something's wrong"

"Ah, maybe it's just one of those theme party"

"No. Can we please just go?" he says, tired and exhausted. I soon nod, trying to put all the pieces together.

We soon reach the corridor and start walking. A couple of girls with long old dresses walk by us, I quickly stop and grab one of the girl's arm. She suddenly turns around, rubbing the point where I just touched her.

"Something touched me" she gasps,

"Lady Greece, don't be silly. Ghosts are just a metropolitan legend, don't be fool" an old man says as they start walking again.

"John, hey, John!" I whisper yell, he soon turns, looking at me.

"They can't see us. None of them can see us"

"That's ridicolous" he raises an eyebrow,

"Look" I quickly say, touching another girl's arm, recieving the same reaction as before.

"Am I drunk? Are you drunk? Have we even drinked before going to bed?"

"Why so sceptic?" I ask, staring at him with an intense look,

"Ghosts don't exist"

"Right. You've been trained to see only what you think you can see"

"Why? You believe in ghosts?" he asks, sceptically.

"Go clean up that blood, we'll meet up in the main hallway in 20 minutes. I'll be fine" I say, he surprisely nods, leaving me alone in the corridor.

I slowly start walking towards Room 64. If it's true that we're in 1920, March should be here. I quietly open the door, walking into the secret torture chamber. There he goes, James Patrick March. He looks quiet different though. His hair is a little messy, he's whistling while filling up a bathtube with gasoline, a dead body is laying inside of it.

A couple of seconds later, Mrs.Evers runs in the room, saying that the policemen found them. I start feeling anxious, a strong pain in my chest, feeling like they're coming for me too. I see James grabbing a knife and a gun, asking Mrs.Evers to choose one. She goes for the gun, as policemen violently start knocking loud at the door. James soon pulls the trigger, as right after he drops the gun on the floor, grabbing the knife. I can see him placing it on his throat and suddenly opening his neck.