Entry 4 - Hellish Ice Cream

When Nyx left the next day, she stopped by the desk and let me know. I was stamping in an hour before midnight, preparing for the long hours ahead. My memoir sat beside me, open to a fresh page with my pen at the ready. At least, my pen would have been at the ready, but the tiny chest mimic had decided it looked like a tasty snack and was currently chewing on the tip – spilling ink all over my workstation.

She was watching me struggle to pry the pen with a smile on her pale blue face, her purple lips curved upward.

“Enjoying the show?” I asked, retracting my hand as the mimic took a snap at my finger.

“Always.” Nyx leaned over the desk, crooking a finger lightheartedly in my direction. “Come around the desk and give me a hug before I leave.”

I laughed, halting my skirmish with the mimic and walking around the lobby to join her. Before I’d even passed the vending machines, she was already embracing me, her spectral form pressed cold against my skin.

“Be safe.” She demanded. It wasn’t a request; it came out like an order.

“You know I don’t go looking for trouble,” I said, but nodded regardless. “I will be.”

The two of us stayed that way for a pregnant moment. She didn’t have a heartbeat, but she did breathe. An icy breeze against my shoulder, her fingers gripping the fabric of my uniform gently. I could have stayed that way forever.

Billy jeered from the lobby. “Boo, since when does Jhin get to hug women? Disgusting public display of affection. Get out of my lobby.”

I could feel Nyx roll her eyes from the way her head shifted against my shoulder before she released me, turning with folded arms toward Billy. “Yes, yes. You have it so hard. I’ll miss you too, you stupid fawn.”

“Fawn? Fawn is a baby deer, you jackass. Do these antlers look like a baby deer’s to you? You’ve been around for like three hundred years, and you can’t tell the difference?”

“Keep an eye on Jhin for me while I’m gone,” Nyx told him, putting her hands on her hips.

Billy’s voice softened, his usual bite fading. “I got you.”

“Good.”

“But you owe me.” He added, letting out a bleating cry to punctuate the sentence.

I rubbed my eyes, giving Nyx an exasperated sigh. “Please get back soon in time so that I’m not stuck alone with him during the mists.”

She laughed, backing up toward the front of the hotel. “I’ll be back before you know it. You’ll need to fill me in on everything I miss.”

“Will do. Come home safe, Nyx.” I gave her a grin and a thumbs-up.

After a few more floating steps backward, she turned away from us. I watched her exit through the sliding door, the bells on her dress jingling with each movement she made. She stepped into the night, a glowing form in the darkness. And then Nyx was gone, down the street and into the forest.

Once she was out of sight, my smile faded. A flicker of concern tugged the corners of my mouth downward. I never liked seeing her go.

“I’m surprised she’s heading out again so soon,” Billy noted, turning his head back to look at the television.

“You and me both.” I returned to my position behind the desk, checking the security cameras. Everything looked to be in place, and I didn’t see anything off. So I sat down and started filling up my memoir. Every few minutes I cast a glance at the security cameras. The feed occasionally flickered, but otherwise all was well.

Eventually, Billy asked, “When’s your next day off?”

“The day before the next mist.”

“Got any plans?”

“I think I want to try out my new camera,” I said.

“You really do have all the girliest hobbies.”

I looked up from my memoir with a scowl. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

The deer head snorted. “You keep a diary and you take pictures. Are you going to start a scrapbook next? Get some of that glitter from the vending machine the other day and a little pink cover?”

“Who shot you, again?”

“Why?”

“I want to shake his hand,” I remarked. “And then give you back.”

The deer chuckled, clearly pleased with his barrage of insults.

“Also, it’s not just photography. It’s spirit photography. It’s different.” I retorted to the laughter, “And even if it wasn’t, taking pictures of things isn’t girly.”

“Whatever you say, buddy.”

“Oh my god, I can’t win with you.” I stood, throwing a pen toward where he was mounted.

The pen sailed through the air and hit him square in the eye, earning a dramatic squeal of pain. He flailed his head, his entire mount shaking and one of the paintings nearby falling off the wall with a loud clatter. “Ow! Damn it, Jhin, you know I can’t rub my eye!”

“Suffer in silence while I finish my entry,” I replied, sitting back down and pushing the chest mimic further away from my hands with the edge of my memoir. He muttered some curses but returned his attention back to the television.

About halfway through my shift, I stood up to stretch and check the security cameras again. When it comes to working at the Grinning Moon, a blessing and a curse is that since I’m normally the only one on staff, I get to choose when I take a break. The downside was that working night shift meant being almost completely alone. Moon, Billy, and other denizens of the hotel were usually asleep around now. Which meant if anything happened, I was the one to deal with it. So a break could be cut short, or I could be dealing with a more scary situation without the aid of anyone else.

Stifling a yawn, I made my way over to where the vending machines sat, my memoir in one hand and my master keys twirling around a finger in the other. The overnight shift had always been my favorite when it was quiet, even despite the slight lethargy tugging at the corners of my eyes. I got my usual snacks and a can of Meat Froth, taking a long drink from the fizzy can before turning to ask Billy something.

The deer head, however, was asleep. His eyes were shut and a soft snore droned from his open mouth. I found this amusing, since I wasn’t even sure how logistically that worked. He was a decapitated deer head; how did he have a snore?

It was as I stood there pondering this question that a sound caught my attention.

Whatever it was, it was far away. Very far. I had to strain to hear it. A soft, jingling tune that was slowly getting closer. Was it outside?

Normally, I wouldn’t leave the lobby at night. For security reasons, the automatic doors were currently shut and locked from the inside. Anyone coming in would have to ask for me to let them in with my keys, but guests could leave as they pleased.

My first thought upon hearing the song was that I didn’t want to deal with guest complaints because some idiot was blaring music in the middle of the night. You can tell people repeatedly that this wasn’t your idea and the weird music coming from the forest wasn’t set up by the hotel, but no matter how many times you explain that, they’ll go for your throat because it slightly inconvenienced them.

Curiosity burning, I walked to the desk and leaned over it to view the security cameras. But of course, when I actually needed it, now the feed was acting up. Most of the cameras displayed static or fuzzy images. The only one still working watched the back of the hotel, looking out over the river.

I was certain the sound was coming from outside. And it was definitely getting closer, emanating from the forest across the parking lot. Now I could make out more of the tune, a bizarre mixture of metallic chimes and a steam calliope blaring through the night. It wasn’t particularly threatening or anything of the sort. In fact, the closer it got, the more I realized it sounded almost like a fairground stall.

So, keys in hand, I made my way to the entryway and stepped out into the night.

The road leading up to the Grinning Moon was shrouded in darkness, and the parking lot wasn’t much better. A dozen or so streetlights dimly lit the area around the hotel, gentle white light casting shadows across the lot. I didn’t leave the cover of the carriage porch, swiping a bug away with my memoir and trying to make out exactly where the strange music was coming from.

A pair of headlights filtered through the trees. My eyes caught the light immediately. Faint at first, but quickly growing in luminosity. A thousand small rays permeating through the holes in the treeline, shooting a thousand spears of light across the parking lot.

The lights turned, following the curved road leading up to the Grinning Moon. For a moment the light was gone. And then it returned, much closer now. The music split through the quiet, a merry song that was occasionally ruined by a noticeably off-beat or out-of-tune note.

Once the headlights broke through the forest, the vehicle passed under the first of our light posts. The model of vehicle was unknown to me, although it was boxy and shaped almost like a postage truck. It was painted white with a bright pink logo on the side. Although the letters were no language I recognized, the childishly painted cartoon spelled out the truck’s contents. Ice cream. Sitting atop the vehicle at a slight angle was a large, fake ice cream cone. A pair of speakers were set on top of either end of the vehicle, blaring the music I’d been hearing for the past ten minutes now.

Rolling merrily along, the truck turned into our parking lot – entering at the far side. It stuck to the edge of our property, keeping a steady pace before turning toward me. For some reason as I watched it, I felt like it was staking out the location. The vehicle passed in front of Zozo’s to my left, slowing to a crawl as it turned again to enter the porch carriage.

I was about ready to give the driver an earful, casting a worried glance at the hotel behind me. There was no way the music wasn’t going to wake up every guest on the property. It was almost infuriatingly loud, and an ache started to form in my head, worsening the longer I was subjected to the cacophony of metallic tings.

“Hey!” I called out, waving my arms.

The truck kept driving toward me. I didn’t step out from beyond the entryway, worried it wouldn’t stop if I did. That worry, however, was unfounded. The vehicle crawled the last few feet before halting in front of me.

Immediately, I looked to the window and started walking. It was then, though, that I realized the windows were completely black. Were they tinted? That didn’t matter. I banged on the side of the door, shouting for whoever was inside to come out.

As soon as my hand slapped the side of the truck, the music stopped.

I froze, my arm held a few inches from the vehicle. Now that the song had stopped, it was almost...too quiet. Way too quiet. I couldn’t hear anything. Not a bird, not an insect, not even the hum of infrastructure from the hotel behind me.

Everything was completely, deathly silent.

My grip on my memoir tightened. I pulled my hand back from the truck, cautiously backing away from the vehicle.

A loud bang almost made me jump out of my skin, curses flying from my lips.

The back of the ice cream truck had swung open. Before I could move to take a look, the sliding doors behind me slid open. The noise made me whip around, eyes wide and heart pounding.

But it was just a man. One of our guests, from what I could tell. He looked tired and was still in his night robe, a silk garb laced in golds and silvers. The man didn’t even spare a glance in my direction. Barefooted, he shuffled his way to the back of the truck.

“Er, sir?” I asked.

Despite my prodding, he didn’t reply. He simply put a hand on the inside of the door, just barely out of view.

And then he clambered inside. I stared, unsure what to do.

A few pregnant moments later, the doors shut. The music erupted to life again, chimes and steam calliope blasting that same joyous song from before. Now it was somehow even more lively and whimsical, a sliding whistle joining the symphony. Then, the truck started up again and rolled away, tires squeaking as it exited our parking lot.

I stood there, my fear fading to a puzzled bemusement. The truck’s lights faded into the distance.

With a small shrug, I returned inside. Billy was still asleep, and I’d left my drink on the counter. So I took another sip before setting to organizing the lobby. I figured it was probably just a really odd man and an equally strange chauffeur. I’d certainly seen weirder working here. All I could do was hope none of the guests complained about it.

But then, about an hour later, I heard it again.

This time I was in the middle of scrubbing more glitter I’d found from my incident with the vending machine. I was on all fours, using a rag and a small bucket of soapy water to wash the baseboards behind the vending machines. When I heard the music, I stopped in my tracks. At first I thought I was imagining it, but the song got closer and closer with each passing second.

Now I was really ready to give the driver an earful. This was the second time he’d come through blaring his music. Whether or not he was dropping off a guest staying here, that wasn’t okay. So I threw my rag aside and took off my gloves, stomping outside irritably.

The ice cream truck was already rolling up to the carriage porch, the driver obscured by the black, tinted glass. As soon as my feet stepped beyond the entryway, the music stopped. The silence hit me like a wall, freezing my march. I couldn’t bring myself to approach the vehicle. Instead, I stood at the door with my arms folded, my discomfort mounting.

For a few minutes nothing happened. I finally got tired of waiting, so I approached the truck again, rapping on the side. There was no response.

Then the door behind me slid open again. A woman in a half-open silk robe stepped out into the night, shambling toward the truck. She wore no shoes and her eyes were half-closed. Her hair was down, a black curtain against her shoulders.

“Ma’am?” I asked

She said nothing, quietly making her way toward the truck. As though in response, the back of the vehicle swung open.

I’d had enough. Once I could look past. But twice, now I needed to know what was going on.

“Ma’am.” My voice turned to more of a demand. I hurried to intercept her, moving to get between her and the truck. “Is this your vehicle?”

The woman murmured something under her breath, but she didn’t stop walking.

I stepped between her and the back of the truck, putting out an arm to stop her. “Miss, if this is your vehicle, could you please tell the driver to stop blaring that music? It’s far too late for that sort of thing.”

Her head turned to look at me. I watched as her mouth opened, like she intended to speak.

And then her face contorted in rage, an inhuman screech erupting and echoing out through the night. The sudden explosion of noise made me flinch. When I recovered, she was lunging in my direction with an outstretched hand. Something slammed into the side of my face. It all happened so fast, I couldn’t tell you what.

Searing hot pain erupted across my face. My head pounded, a thousand roaring drums in my ears as I lost my footing. The strike was so hard I was thrown directly to the ground, a groan tearing from my throat as I hit the pavement. The strike was so hard my eyes crossed. My vision blurred. Something warm trickled down my face.

I was only barely conscious of the truck starting up again. The music began to play. After the initial shock had passed, I managed to get to my hands and knees, turning to look back in the direction of the truck.

The back doors were still open, and the woman had crawled inside. But what alarmed me the most was the interior. I still couldn’t see the drivers, but the back of the truck...my god, the back of it.

A dried, red substance was smeared on every surface visible. The crude benches built into either side of the vehicle, the metallic coolers, the floor, the ceiling, even the interiors of the still-open doors. All of it was stained in this disgusting brownish red.

My eyes fell on a pile of objects just behind where the woman had clambered in. I felt woozy, my stomach churning at the realization of exactly what I was looking at.

Human corpses were piled atop one another in the back of the truck, littering the floor. I couldn’t make out all of their details, which I was thankful for. They were almost all in a state of undress, and several were missing at least one limb. A decapitated head sat off to one side. Chunks of red flesh and long, tube-like intestines covered the floor, stained in a mixture of pasty brown sludge and vibrant, crimson blood. I could smell it now, too. The sweet and rank stench of rotting flesh.

There was so, so much blood. I dry heaved, a guttural gasp tearing from my lips.

The woman who had just crawled inside was already knee-deep in the remains, intestines squelching around her as she turned to look at me.

It was in that brief moment that she seemed to come to. Her eyes opened fully. Realization donned on her face. She reached toward me.

And then the doors shut. The music roared, the sliding whistle shrieked into the night. And the truck rolled away to that horrifically merry tune, exiting the parking lot and zipping out onto the road.

I stayed there on my hands and knees, heaving violently. Too much blood. Far, far too much blood. Every part of my body was revolting. It was only then I realized I was bleeding myself, drips of scarlet falling onto my hands and the pavement beneath. My heart started to pound, my breathing quickened. I could feel myself starting to panic.

“S-stop it,” I told myself between labored breaths, back arching as bile threatened to rise in my throat. “Y-you c-can’t. Do this. Stop.”

My own words were the only reassurance I had. My entire body shook, trembling like a candle on its last seconds of wick. But I knew I couldn’t just lie there. The truck could come back. It could pick up someone else. I needed to get inside and at least lock the door. It took a few minutes, far more than I care to admit. But eventually, I managed to get to my feet.

Sick to my stomach, I took one step toward the entryway. Then another. Each individual pace forward was a battle in and of itself. My legs buckled, and I had to use the side of the Grinning Moon to keep myself upright.

I eventually made my way back to the lobby. Billy was awake now, staring at the door. He was clearly alarmed. “Jhin? What the hell happened?”

Once I was fully inside, I reached for the electronic controls on the sliding glass door and locked it. Then, still shuddering, I also locked the physical lock with my keys. Once the doors were fully shut I collapsed, chest heaving.

“What was that truck?” Billy demanded. “That lady woke me up with her weird mumbling. Are you alright?”

I shook my head, looking down at my bloodied hands before my head fell back against the glass.

“Come on, Jhin, get up.” He encouraged, “You need to at least let Moon know what just happened. Assuming he’s awake.”

“Fuck. I’m going.” I slowly got to my feet, walking toward the nearest knocker. It was the one by the elevator, just beyond the front desk. Each step I took left a bloodied print, leaving glistening tracks on the dark wood floor. I walked around behind the desk, looking for the knocker located just behind where I normally sat.

Grimacing, I used one hand and used the knocker to get Moon’s attention. At first the silver logo didn’t react. I moved to knock again, but stopped when it let out a loud yawn. “What do you want, now?”

Immediately, his yawn shifted to the moon’s eyes looking me up and down. He whistled, “What the devil? That didn’t happen inside the hotel, did it? I feel like I would’ve seen or heard it.”

“No, just outside,” I explained everything that had happened, pressing a hand against the wall to keep myself steady.

Moon’s metallic voice grunted, “That can’t be good.”

“No kidding. I know your influence doesn’t really extend beyond the lobby, but can you think of anything?” I tried to ignore the blood on my body, shivering.

“Did you lock the entrance?”

“Both the electronic lock and the physical lock. Nobody is getting in and out without me knowing.” I motioned toward the security camera feed, which was still flickering in and out. “My cameras have been acting up all night.”

Moon sighed, “I suppose I’ll have to stay awake and keep an eye on the elevator. If anyone starts coming down, I’ll let you know. We’ll have to talk to Mando when he gets back.”

“Have you ever heard of anything like this?” I asked.

Billy called out from the lobby, “It looked like an ice cream truck, Moon. It was playing some loud ass music.”

Moon thought for a moment, the knocker’s eyes averting upward as he pondered. Then, the logo shook. “I don’t think so. But I could be forgetting. You should get yourself cleaned up, Jhin.”

I nodded, “Would you mind watching the desk for me for a moment?”

“Sure. Just don’t take too long.”

Stumbling, I made my way toward the public restrooms. The men’s room was empty, so I took my time cleaning myself in the sink, using a paper towel to dab the blood off my uniform and face. Each droplet earned a visceral reaction from me, a heave or a choking cough. I kept stopping myself, forcing air to come in and out at regular intervals.

Ever since I’d nearly lost my eye years ago, I’d developed an intense aversion to blood. I think the word I hear used is hemophobia. Even the smallest droplets were enough to make me feel dizzy and nauseous, like my entire world was balanced precariously on a spinning top that threatened to tip at any moment. Something like this was close to sending me over the edge. My face was scratched up pretty badly, and a bruise was forming on my jaw where I’d been struck.

Compared to what I’d seen inside the truck, it was nothing. A few mild scrapes and a large cut on my head. But it wasn’t that much. I knew I was overreacting, but every part of me rejected the notion of any form of blood touching my skin. I scrubbed. Hard. So hard I probably made myself bleed more. When the bleeding finally stopped, I returned to the desk and searched for our first aid kit.

“Well, you’re definitely going to need to clean your uniform,” Moon noted from behind me.

“You going to be okay?” Billy asked.

I nodded, applying a bandage to my head to cover the various scrapes and cuts. “Now that the bleeding stopped.”

“The wound didn’t look that bad,” He said, his voice laced with genuine concern, “But I know how you are about blood.”

“Yeah.” I turned to look at Moon. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. I’ll be in touch if I see anything odd.” Moon replied, a metallic ring punctuating his sentence. Then the logo returned to its usual inert position, and he was gone.

My next order of business was cleaning the mess I’d made. I grabbed the mop bucket from where I’d left it inside the storage closet beside the desk the other day, making note that since it hadn’t been moved, nobody else on staff had taken the time to clean anything. But I didn’t vocalize any complaints. To be frank, I was glad it was in the same spot so I could get to work quickly. I didn’t want a guest walking into a lobby covered in blood.

While still squeamish, I was able to stay on my feet and scrub the floor. Billy kept me company and we exchanged idle gossip while I worked. I tried to ignore the mop water getting progressively redder and redder with each dip of the mop.

“Just another night at the Grinning Moon, huh?” Billy noted as I finished cleaning the floor, wiping the sweat from my brow.

“No kidding.” I managed a small grin. “Although I’m a little worried about that woman.”

“Not much you can do about it at this point.”

I frowned. “We should tell the police.”

“You know they won’t pick up from this address.”

I knew he was right. The reality was that ever since the last day of the dead festival, the Nultock Public Security wouldn’t set foot in the woods around the hotel anymore. Supposedly they had some sort of deal with the building owners, which was already extremely sketchy in and of itself. But I personally thought the real reason they wouldn’t come by was embarrassment.

You see, during the Day of the Dead festival, all sorts from all over Nultock gather in the woods near the Grinning Moon. And they party. They party loud and hard. Fireworks, carnival tents and games, the whole thing. Usually I even pay the celebration a visit. One of my friends is a carny who passes through every year around that time. A few years ago, they got a bunch of noise complaints, and someone kept reporting the explosions in the trees as some sort of terrorist attack. So the NPS came to shut it all down. Of course, they forgot that we’re in Nultock and nothing here is ever easy. A bunch of angry wickens and dryads spent the entire night pelting the police force with nuts, sleep darts, fireworks and pebbles until half their patrol vehicles had flat tires and every window was a shattered mess. Not a single arrest was made, and nearly a dozen officers were knocked unconscious. To be honest, they’re lucky the tree spirits didn’t kill anyone. I’ve seen what they can do to people.

That’s a story for another time, but ever since then, the Nultock Public Security steers clear of this area. Which unfortunately makes it hard to get help when something like a murder van pulls up to your hotel and starts abducting people.

It was as I tried to come up with some sort of solution that Moon’s knocker sprang to life behind me. His ringing voice warned, “You have someone coming down the elevator.”

“Who?” I whipped around to face him, then looked at my cameras.

“Room 307.” He remarked, “An older woman. She’s in her pajamas.”

It was then that the familiar tune of the ice cream truck approaching hit my ears. Billy obviously heard it too. He craned his neck, trying to see out the windows and into the night. I didn’t wait. I reached for a piece of paper and scribbled an impromptu out-of-order sign, hurrying around the front desk and taping it to the interior of the sliding glass door. Then I moved back behind the desk, looking over at the cameras. Just like before, they were a blurred mess of static and white noise, completely incomprehensible.

A loud ding alerted me to the elevator’s arrival on the first floor. I stood perfectly still, listening to the truck’s approach. Its headlights were visible in the dark, turning into our parking lot and taking the same exact route to reach the carriage porch. When it slid to a stop, the music halted.

Just like Moon had warned, a woman came wobbling into the lobby. Her graying hair was ragged and frizzy. She wore a face mask and the remnants of makeup littered her cheeks and around her lips.

She headed toward the sliding glass door, her feet squeaking against the wood floor.

Billy stared at her, head slowly turning to track her movement. “Is she sleepwalking?”

“I don’t think so.” My response was dark, laced with a mixture of anger and fear. If guests were getting abducted on my watch, I was sure to get an earful about it in the morning. Also, what’s to say whatever trance the guests were falling under wouldn’t start affecting me? Whatever the case, she couldn’t go outside. I hurried to intercept her, trying to stop the woman from reaching the door.

By the time I exited the storage closet, she was already there, a hand placed on the glass.

“Ma’am, the door is out of order.” I informed her, “It will be fixed in the morning, but for now you need to-”

And then she got violently angry. Her balled fists slammed against the glass. The entire door shook, each thundering strike threatening to crack the surface. I stood with wide eyes, alarmed by her sudden bout of explosive rage.

“Whoa, lady!” Billy called.

I tried to approach, but the woman’s flailing made me reconsider. The way she swung her arms and legs had me concerned I’d take another wallop to the face, and I’d had enough of that for one night. So all I could do was watch.

After a few minutes, the woman stopped. Then, she slowly turned away from the door. Without a word, without even ever removing her face mask, she made her way back to the elevators. They opened to receive her before closing to a shut. My first thought was that she was going to use another exit to leave the building. But the arrow for heading upstairs lit up.

I ran to the desk, looking at Moon’s logo, “Where is she getting off?”

The knocker went inert. When Moon returned, he said, “She’s going back to her room.”

A sigh of relief I hadn’t realized I’d been holding exploded from my lungs. I stumbled back into the lobby, falling into one of the lounge chairs and looking up at the ceiling. Only then did I hear the ice cream truck’s infernal song begin again. This time, it was far more distorted than before. The chimes and calliope were completely off-key, like the vehicle itself was unhappy with what had transpired. I watched it speed off, tires screeching as it peeled out from beneath the carriage porch.

Billy said, “Well, Mando’s going to be pissed.”

“No kidding,” I muttered.

“Think he’ll have any idea as to what that was?”

I shrugged, getting up and returning to my seat behind the desk. “I don’t know.”

The truck didn’t come back after that. Our camera feed returned to normal, showing clear footage with little to no grain. I kept my eyes on the outdoor camera which looked out over the parking lot, watching for any headlights or strange vehicles approaching the hotel. But none came.

By the time the sun peeked over the horizon, I was exhausted. The only thing keeping my eyes open were the rays of golden light filtering into the lobby from the windows. That and Billy repeatedly dropping the remote and swearing up a storm.

When Mivara walked in, she paused at the door connecting the area behind the desk to the storage closet. “Eventful night, eh?”

“You have no idea,” I replied, rubbing my eyes.

As I finished filling her in on everything, my boss walked in through the front door. I almost didn’t notice him at first since he was so short I couldn’t see him over the desk.

Mivara motioned toward him, “Want me to tell him?”

“No, I’ll let him know before I stamp out.” I hurried around the desk to catch my boss, rubbing the side of my face where I’d been hit. He was just rounding the corner leading to the hall before his office. I sped up, calling for him.

He stopped, pulling a smoking pipe from his mouth. The gnome ran a hand through his purple hair, eyeing me up and down. “Rough night?”

Just then the elevator doors opened and a guest – the same woman who’d come down into the lobby before the truck left – exited. She was dressed for the day now and gave the two of us a big smile when she walked by, “Good morning, gentlemen.”

“Good morning, miss.” I forced a smile, but it was so strained Mando immediately saw through it.

Once she was at the desk talking to Mivara, my boss sighed, running a hand through the tuft of purple hair atop his head. “Come on, tell me in the office.”

I followed him, making sure to step over the line of salt in front of his office door as he let me inside. As soon as the door closed, he took his seat, pulling his chair close to the desk and offering me a smoke. I politely declined, but I didn’t wait for him to ask me what had happened.

My boss didn’t interrupt. He adjusted his posture, reigniting his pipe with a lighter and some fresh herbs and leaning back in his seat. The longer I talked, the more tired he visibly became. A jaded annoyance was plastered all over his face, filling me with anxiety. A slight tug in my gut that I got whenever I felt like I might have done something wrong and was about to be reprimanded.

When I finished the story, he nodded slowly and pulled the smoking pipe from his lips. “You told Moon?”

“Billy saw, too.” I said, “Kind of hard for him not to since he was in the lobby. And I let Mivara know just now.”

“Alright.” Mando sighed, rubbing the back of his head. “Honestly, you did the best you could. Locking the exit was the right call, even if that guest was mad about it.”

I scowled, “Boss, I’m not going to lie, I don’t think she even remembers. That lady who just stepped off the elevator? That was her.”

“Interesting.” He stroked his chin, lost in thought.

“Should I have called the police?”

“No, they won’t deal with us. For better and worse.” He chuckled.

“But surely we have to tell someone?”

Mando shrugged, “The city has enough to deal with. It’s not like disappearances are all that uncommon around here.”

It didn’t sit right with me even though I knew he wasn’t wrong.

“That being said…” He tapped a finger on his desk. “Between the suitcase we just received, and now this...I’m growing a little suspicious something is going on.”

“The suitcase?”

“When you need to know, you’ll know.” My boss replied, “For now, keep things on the down low. I’ve got some people I can call to look into the truck for now.”

I nodded, “You might want to tell Billy to shut his trap. You know he blabbers about everything to everyone.”

My boss smirked, “Considering he doesn’t have to pay rent, I think the least he can do is shut up about this for a bit. Otherwise I’ll move him into the hall downstairs with Sir Theodor. And he hates that knight. Billy always says he’s a brown nose and a fool.”

That was true; the two mixed like oil and water. Theodor hated Billy’s foul mouth and rambling conspiracies, while Billy would literally scream for hours about how boring Theodor was. The idea of sticking them in the same hall was more than moderately amusing, and I almost hoped Billy wouldn’t listen just so I could watch the results.

All of that aside, I was tired.

“Can I be excused for the day, sir?” I asked.

My boss gave an understanding nod. “You’re working the morning shift tomorrow, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Get some rest. Clean up a bit. You look awful.” He laced his fingers together, giving me a small wink, “And we certainly can’t have that here at the Grinning Moon.”

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