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Chapter One:
Welcome to the Dolphin Hotel
It was a sunny afternoon, the sun were shining relentlessly in Nevada and the radio was playing an old song which Dean hummed along while studying the map. They were on the road for nearly 4 hours now and Roman was very thankful for the A/C in his sedan and his sunglasses he didn't leave at home.
"What was this place called again?" asked Roman while he was driving through the desert.
"The Dolphin Hotel." stated Dean.
"Sounds nice. And... where is it?"
"Not sure." he studied the map for one hour now.
"What?!"
His answer made Roman nearly hit the brakes. Dean can't be serious...
"I said 'Not sure' but we must be close. The sign we drove by said we're heading in the right direction." Dean told him as if it would be the most normal thing in life to drive to a hotel without an address or an idea on which continent it's located.
"Seriously? You don't even know exactly were this freaking hotel is? What if we need help? Are we gonna say 'Just follow the signs?'"
"Relax Ro. We won't need help. In my whole life, I've never seen a ghost before and you didn't either. I only need a new story for my book and you know that. I need inspiration and that ghost thing is kind of cool AND totally in at the moment. We'll make a hell of money with it."
"Why did I even agree to come with you?"
"Because you love me, AND it's boring without me. You don't have to complain. The room I wanna check in even got a king-size bed, if you know what I mean." he winked at his boyfriend as he looked at him.
"I. Can't. Believe. It." Roman said but kept driving. They were somewhere near Paradise Valley on the 95th highway to McDermitt, that he could tell.
Dean started again with humming a random song before he folded the map and put them away. He stretched his sore muscles and yawned. He was lucky enough to get Roman's company on that trip. At least he had someone to talk to. Usually he was alone on his trips searching a new story.
He camped alone in a haunted forest or an abandoned hospital, of course fearless because he still didn't believe in ghosts (other than Roman) but his next book should be about haunted hotels and he decided to start with the "Dolphin Hotel" anywhere in Nevada.
He liked that name, though it was everything than creepy and was definitely a hotel you wouldn't assume in the desert of Nevada. It was a classy one. Six stories high, a touch of old architecture outside and inside the building, with lots of mahogany furniture.
What he didn't told Roman though was, that he wanted a special room for them to stay the night. It was room 1408. He read a lot in old newspapers in the archives of tragic accidents or suicides that happened inside the room, so he just knew, he had to stay in here no matter what. Maybe it'll give him even a chill down his spine, who knew? But he had problems to book the room- in fact, he didn't. He had to take care of it when they got there.
Shreds of his call last week came into his mind.
It rang only shortly before a nice sounding women picked up the phone.
"Dolphin Hotel, My name is Mrs. Bella. How might I direct your call?"
"Yeah hi, Dean Ambrose. I'd like to book a room for two. If possible room 1408."
"I'm sorry Mr. Ambrose but I'm afraid this room isn't available."
He was startled.
"Well I didn't say which date..."
"Sadly, this room isn't available. But I can recommend one of our suites. If you tell me the time frame, I..."
"I don't want any other room. I want room 1408 next Tuesday, one night, for two."
"As I told you, this..."
"Mrs. Bella, please. If you don't get me this room, I'll need to talk to your manager."
She didn't seem bothered by that and so he told him that he will be connected but it may take a while. The phone line went dead and then a random melody, maybe Mozart, was heard.
"Why the hell is it so complicated?" muttered Dean as he was tipping his pen on the piece of paper before him.
He had the last four articles printed. The last accident happened in 1999 where a young man died drowning in his soup. Dean would have laughed at that if it weren't so sad. But accidents happen right?
He stood up and stretched as suddenly the music went dead.
"Dolphin Hotel manager Helmsley. Mr. Ambrose, you wanted to talk to me?"
"Yes, I'd like to stay in room 1408 but your receptionist isn't helping at all."
"She already told me that. But I'm afraid I have to tell you the same as my employee."
"So, why's that?"
"The room's unavailable any more."
"But it still exist?"
"Yes."
"Then I'm checking in. What about next Tuesday?"
"Unavailable."
Dean grinned. That must be some kind of sick joke.
"Next month?"
"Unavailable."
"Next summer?"
That's when the line went dead.
"There is a Texaco coming up. Better we get some gas and something to drink."
Roman jolted Dean right out of his dreams.
"What? Oh... oh yeah. Good idea! I feel like crap. Shouldn't have had that stupid whiskey yesterday."
"I told ya."
"God Mom please, can I get my Roman back?"
"I dare you to call me like that again."
They did some shopping and drove another half hour until they reached their destination.
"Wow. Nice place."
"Yeah looks cool. Let's check in. Can't wait to get into that room." Dean said and got their luggage out of Roman's sedan.
They went into a great hall with dark wood surrounding the walls. Big chandeliers were hanging from the ceiling. It gave them a feeling of an old pirate ship. It didn't feel like the 2000's any more. Roman took of his sun glasses. They went to the reception.
"Welcome to the Dolphin, sirs. Are you checking in?" a good looking, brown haired female asked them. He looked at her name tag. N. Bella.
"Yes. Dean Ambrose. One night for two."
She hacked something in her computer. What he couldn't see was that there was a tab in the browser popping up that the manager should be immediately informed when he's checking in.
"Would you excuse me for a moment, sir?"
"Sure."
She grabbed the telephone on the counter.
"Mr. Helmsley, Mr. Ambrose just checked in."
"Where is he?"
"He's over at my desk."
"That's just fine, Thank you Nikki. I'll take care of it."
"Okay."
She hang up and spoke again to Dean, smiling friendly.
"It'll just be a minute Mr. Ambrose."
"Okay."
"Is something wrong?" Roman asked.
He was admiring the view of the interior from the latest century and all the little details that he didn't really paid attention to the conversation Dean just had.
"No, everything's fine. We just have to wait a moment."
Dean was looking around, too.
"This place is amazing."
"Yeah. I didn't even know something like that exists in the desert. It's looks more than a Hotel in Carson City or Las Vegas."
They were standing in front of the reception as someone suddenly were in Dean's face. He was a small man in his thirties, with brown hair and was dressed in a concierge suit. His name tag said "James".
"Good evening, sirs. Can I help you with your bags?"
"No thank you." Roman said.
"Allright."
And he was gone.
"Strange dude, huh?"
"Not only that he just sprung right in my face, did you see his non existent chin?" Dean joked.
"Excuse me?"
A deep voice came from behind them. It came from an intimidating looking man with broad shoulders, brown short hair and a look on his face that he's not one to joke with.
"I'm Hunter H. Helmsley, manager of the Dolphin. If there's anything I can do for you, or your companion, while you're here, whatever it is- anything- just tell me. I am at your service."
He reached out his hand to Dean.
"Dean Ambrose."
He pointed in Romans direction.
"This is my friend Roman Reigns."
"Nice to meet you."
Helmsley and Roman shook hands, too.
"Well, if we can just get the key to 1408, we can get out of your hair."
"Oh, we were thinking of upgrading you to a penthouse suite."
Dean was getting impatient.
"Not gonna happen. 1408, please."
"Insistent, aren't we? Could you please humor me by coming to my office for a more private conversation?"
"Sure."
"Excellent."
They followed through the great hall past an orange seating accommodation to a not less impressive room. It was of course smaller but with the same dark wall panel as the great hall, dimmed golden wall lights and a lot of antique decorations. It looked courtly but cosy at the same time.
"Please take a seat. Can I get you something to drink? I got an exquisite 'Le Cinquante Sept Deces, 1939'. About $800 a bottle when you can find it."
"No thank you." both said in unison.
"Look, Mr. Helmsley. I don't want to be rude. We really appreciate it but we intend on staying in that room."
"How long?"
"Overnight. We're both gone tomorrow morning."
Mr. Helmsley looked thoughtful at both men. He took his time before he continued.
"No one's ever lasted more than an hour."
Roman gulped and looked at Dean. He could tell that his friend thought this man in front of him is joking.
"Jesus, man. You ought to shave your eyebrows and paint your hair gold if you're gonna try to sell that spook house bullshit. Otherwise you'll scare the children."
Hunter seemed calm and sat down on his chair. He folded his hands in front of him.
"Why are you mocking me when I am genuinely, trying to help you?"
"Helping us? No, you're playing a little game. But eventually we all know you're gonna give us the key and we're gonna go up to the room. Look, I'm writing a book about you're hotel, especially about room 1408. Maybe this is gonna be a bestseller. By mentioning your hotel, well, maybe your bookings will go up 50-60%..."
"Sir, it seems that you quite misunderstand the situation. Though were in the middle of nowhere in Nevada, we operate at 90% capacity. Always. And my concern here is not for the hotel. My concern here isn't for you. Frankly, selfishly, I don't want you two to check into because I don't want to clean up the mess."
He stood up again, and started pacing the room.
"Now hotels are all about presentation and fertile creature comforts. I'm a manager, not a coroner. Under my watch there have been four deaths... four. After the last one, I forbade any guest from checking into 1408 ever again."
Roman grabbed Dean's arm and looked concerned.
"You really wanna risk that? Let's take the offer from Mr. Helmsley and sleep in the Penthouse suite."
"You're not talking me out of it, Ro."
Dean was serious.
"You're friend is smart, Mr. Ambrose. If I were you, I would listen to him. Well, grievously, in it's 105-year existence, the hotel has seen seven jumpers, four overdoses, five hangings, the mutilations, two stranglings-"
Dean put up his hands in a defending manner.
"General manager Helmsley, you don't have to recite the tragic history of your hotel. I read about it already."
"Well, during your investigation, did you discover the 22 natural deaths that have occurred in 1408?"
"Natural deaths?" Roman asked. He looked bewildered. Well, it could still be just a coincidence, but...
"Ah, didn't find out about them because the newspapers don't print anything about them. All told, there have been 56 deaths in 1408.
Now, even Dean looked surprised besides Roman.
"56? Seriously?"
"Yes you heard correctly. The causes of death in 1408 range from heart attack, stroke, drowning-"
"Drowning? In the bathtub?" asked Roman.
"In a bowl of chicken soup."
"That's... hard to do. How did he do that?"
"How indeed? Interesting. It's all in here."
Helmsley grabbed an old book from a drawer of his desk and gave it to Dean.
"I will let you have this if you're not staying in that room. You can take notes, use it for anything you need."
Dean seemed to think about that offer.
"You'd let me look at that?"
He stroked the old leather binding. Everything in that house seemed to be antique.
"Yes. You can take notes, put it all in your book. My only condition is that you don't stay in that room."
"Nope. I have to stay. We, have to stay."
"Dean, we haven't..."
"Yes, Roman, we have to." he said calmly and looked again at Hunter who seemed to loose his patience.
"Damn it to hell! All right here, read the godforsaken thing. I guarantee you, once, you've read it you won't want to stay in 1408 any more."
"It's not working for me. We'll stay."
Hunter sighed.
"Mr. Kevin Owens, sewing machine salesman. Checked into the hotel, the first week it opened in 1912..."
"Cut his throat, right?"
"Oh, you're informed about that? Well, that's not the horrific part. Afterwards, in a fit of insanity, he tried to stitch himself back together using an old sewing needle before he bled to death."
"Easy, man! That's gross!"
"Look, Mr. Reigns. You and your friend don't have to stay in 1408. You can take photographs of 1404, it has the exact same layout and no one will ever know the difference."
"I'm not a liar. My readers expect the truth. Hey listen, this meeting's over. Why don't you give us the room?"
"Mr. Ambrose..."
"Just give me the key! Listen, I stayed at the Wyatt's house. I brushed my goddamn teeth right next to the tub where that bastard Bray Wyatt drowned his sister Abigail. And I stopped being afraid of vampires when I was twelve. Do you know why I can stay, why we can stay, in your spooky old room, Mr. Helmsley? Because we know that ghouls and ghosts and long legged beasts don't exist."
"So I can't talk you out of this? Very well... come with me."
They left the office and after a short detour to the reception, they went to the elevators. Roman noticed that the hotel didn't have keycards.
"We have magnetic cards also. But electronics don't seem to work in 1408." Hunter explained to him. "I hope you don't have a pacemaker." he smiled.
Roman gave Dean a look that Hunter couldn't see. They were silent on the way up. Though it was only on the 4th floor, it seemed to take longer than the conversation they had before.
"So... How do you keep this place cleaned?" Roman asked. "You said that nobody is allowed to enter that room, so I guess it must be all filthy by now. I mean, the sheets haven't been changed in what? Eleven years?"
"No, we're very professional. The room gets a light turn once a month. The maids work in pairs, they get ten minutes and I insist the door remains open the whole time. We treat the room as if it's a chamber filled with poison gas. But still, a few years ago we found a young maid locked in the bathroom. She was gone for a few minutes but when we pulled her out she was-"
"Dead?"
"No. Blind. She took a pair of scissors and gouged her eyes out. She was laughing hysterically."
The elevator made a light 'bing' and the doors opened.
"This is your floor. This is where we part company. This is as close as I get to that room, unless it's that time of month. It's the 4th room on the left side."
Eventually, Hunter handed Dean the key.
"See you tomorrow!" Dean said enthusiastically and waved him good bye.