Plagued: a companion to Whodunnit

The First Day

The evening was darkening. All of the guests were waiting impatiently in the lobby. Finally, a man entered. As the door opened, the wind howled and snow blew in.
"It's a devil out there. Visibility is close to zero and the snow is at two feet, if not, more."
The guests sighed.
"We're stuck here till the blizzard clears up," Liena said, facing the television set.
"And until it's melted. There's no way we can drive in this," the man said. He walked over to the visitors.
The weather was being played on the news. The TV monitor was prehistoric; it was one of those old boxy kinds that weighed an anchor.
The whole Hotel was old and outdate. The walls were a yellowing white, and the carpet was faded maroon. A musk reached out from behind the wallpaper, a morbid smell.
"What are we do to? I have a meeting with a director."
"Let's not worry ourselves," said the man. He was the winter caretaker who stayed while the rest of the staff was off for holiday. "Director, eh? You some kind of actress?"
She couldn't help but smile. She was usually humble but her ego was consumed in a newfound pride. She was famous after all, "Some kind, yes. Nothing major. Not yet."
The rest of the guests surrounded the celebrity.
"What's your name? What movie are you from?"
"Liena Parker. I was in a few movies. One was based on a book, On the Deathbed."
She sat down on the sofa in the lobby.
"They made that into a movie? I love her books", said an older black lady.
"What do you go by?" Liena asked. She smiled at the woman.
"Odara."
They greeted.
"And you?" Liena asked.
"Cameron. I'm no celebrity, just a banker."
Cameron laughed and shrugged on his snow coat, tugging at the collar. The three of them chitchatted.

A group of guests was crowding around the caretaker.
"Well if we're all stuck here for the next few days, we might as well wear name-tags; I'm Jackson."
"What exactly is it you do?" Said a beautiful woman.
Jackson, a reasonably older and balding gentleman, walked hurriedly around. The guests watched him attentively; Their eyes moths and he a lantern.
He loosened his parka, unzipped it, and took it off, hanging it on a door-hook.
"They hire a winter caretaker due to the usual weather. Usually the place is vacant, last year there was one lady I think, but that was it. A crowd like this is more to handle than four horsemen."
The guests laughed. The Wooden Powhatan Hotel was the only one opened during the season. It was built in the 20's, redone in the 50's and revamped in the mid 70's, and not an alteration since.
The guests looked to the next person to give an introduction. A hippyish and stout woman bustled her bulk in a energetic dance. "Well, well, well. Looks like I'm up. Eleanor," she said, then becoming very excited, "Eleanor Rigby."
"Like the so-?"
"Yes, yes, yes. The Beetle's song."
A few eyes rolled. Such eccentric excitement was often frowned upon by the pessimistic, otherwise known as party poppers. So what if Eleanor was peachy?
The attention moved over to a younger lady. She dressed, oh boy, in kind words: like a harlot.
"Valerie," she said. And that was it.
There was an awkward hesitation as all the guests looked at her, wondering if she would add on.
A woman gracefully saved the moment, as well as she could, "I'm Esther. I'm-well, I'm Amish, but I left my community. During Rumspringa, I decided not to return."
The others were interested. They looked at her with keen eyes. She dressed modestly, and under a plain look, was potentially pretty.
Two more ladies and two more men had yet to talk of themselves. But they never got the chance, the lights went out.
"Oh, the frozen blind again. Every damned year!" Jackson said.
"The frozen blind?" Cameron questioned.
"In the winter, the ice is too much weight for the branches and they collapse and usually fall on telephone lines. The electricity goes out. We call it the frozen blind, but fortunately the Wooden Powhatan had a backup generator installed."
He put on his coat again and grabbed a flashlight, heading for the door.
"You can't actually be going out there in this. How far is it?" Cameron asked, "I'll go."
"It's no bother. I don't like to be waited on, son."
Cameron nodded absentmindedly.
"I'll be back in a jiffy."
While he went, a few guests went to get some of the wood for the fireplace that they saw in the maintenance room earlier. Others went to their rooms to tidy for a late dinner. The lobby was empty.

Fifty minutes later, the lights had come back on and everyone gathered by the fire. The people were beginning to worry that Jackson hadn't come back.
Finally Cameron got up and zipped his coat up.
Valerie looked over, but without conveying concern, she spoke, "You're not seriously gonna go looking for him. Don't be a hero, man. We can handle ourselves with out a man, a heart attack away, to supervise us."
The curly-haired guy, Jamie, sat back in the sofa chair. He rolled his eyes at Valerie's ego, despite her good looks.
An older gentleman stood up. "Maybe Cameron's right. These are no conditions to be trapped in. Jackson could be freezing out there."
"All dogs chase cars. Go then. Fetch boy."
A young adult man smirked at her cruel statement. He folded his arms across his chest, revealing a tatted sleeve. Vinyl, his name was, just stared at the fire. Waiting.
"What's your deal Victoria?" Liena cracked.
"It's Valerie, dear."
Liena scowled and sat back down. The middle-aged man went towards the door.
"C'mon Cam."
Cameron shrugged, "What's your name?"
The man cracked a leisurely smile. "Arnold."
"Hey Arnold."
The two opened the door but everyone knew at once. The storm was too bad for a search party. Arnold shamefully closed the door. "Well? We'll have to wait until after the snow stops and melts a little."
"That could be days!" Eleanor shouted. Aubrey, the girl next to her, did not seem worried. Death never got to her.
"He should be fine. We can call the police and put a word out," Penny said. She was so quiet the whole evening.
"I'll call," Cameron said. He walked around the desk and dialed the phone.
Odara began to mumble and as the room fell silent they all looked at her.
"What are you doing?" Penny asked.
Cam walked back over noting that the telephone lines to the city must be down and that no signal could go through.
Odara went back to her doings. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with two fingers and then blew into the fireplace.
"It's a hoodoo prayer to give protection to those in danger."
"No one wants to hear your mumbo jumbo," Valerie said bluntly. She looked around embarrassedly, interjecting, "What? I'm saying that it's creepy enough having a man go missing and hocus pocus doesn't help the cause."
Odara gave an evil eye over at her.
"It's her belief," Vinyl said, "How dare you speak so insolently."
Valerie fell silent and looked down at the floor.
"Okay, okay," Esther said, "I think it's time for bed. What time is it anyway?"
They looked at the clock. It was around 10:00. The guests went toward the elevator and clicked to their floor. Everyone went to their rooms and went to sleep.

In the morning, all guests found themselves cooking a meal from the pantry.
Everyone waited for Odara to come down and it wasn't until Penny screamed as she went to the showers. The room had a pool of blood and Odara was in the center.
The river of red was everywhere, and Odara must have been butchered. Her body was mangled, and unrecognizable. The whole bathroom was soaked in crimson. A note was sitting on the sink counter.
When Arnold bravely obtained it, he read it to the shocked menagerie of guests.
"Denial is blood."