A/N: So so so so so so sorry for the long delay, but you know, writer's block. Thanks to my one review from the last chapter. You rock my socks!

Interesting chapter ahead...beware!

Enjoy!

Number Three

"That didn't happen, Carlos. Trust me."

"But James, it did happen! I swear!" Carlos protested.

"Please, Carlos, just stop! It's impossible!" James said. Right now everyone was sitting in the lobby of the hotel, bored. They were arguing because no one believed Carlos when he told them about the previous day. They didn't believe the valve, the girl, or the time-skipping. It was ridiculously frustrating to Carlos.

"Is not!" Carlos said. "Is it impossible, Logie?" he whispered to Logan, whom he was sitting next to.

"Yes." Logan announced, annoyed.

"Ha! You lose!" James exclaimed.

"Logie!" Carlos cried out.

"Sorry, 'litos, but we've asked the manager, and there is no basement in this hotel. Plus, we aren't here because of a blizzard, we're here because the car exploded."

Carlos let that sink in. That's what he had said the previous day, too, but they had told him otherwise. It just didn't make sense.

Then, as if that weren't bad enough, apparently the basement didn't exist anymore. That was just great. Nothing made Carlos happier than disappearing basements.

"So you think I just made it up?" Carlos huffed.

"No, of course not. It was probably all in your head. Or just a dream." Kendall said.

Carlos crossed his arms and pouted. Why wouldn't they believe him? Isn't that the job of a brother, of a friend? You'd think that after so many years of knowing each other they would trust Carlos. Apparently not, though.

They sat in silence for a while, Logan occasionally trying to make small talk. Carlos sat in awkard silence, looking at the wall. He was embarrassed about his story and sad that no one believed him. The lighting and warmth of the lobby slowly wore away his troubles though.

His eyes started to get heavier and heavier. Finally, they drooped close and he slipped away to sleep.

Carlos dreamt that he was in a dark room. It was so dark, in fact, that he couldn't see a thing.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" he asked.

There was no reply.

He outstretched his arms and wandered around in search of a wall, but was unsuccessful. Instead, he stumbled over something on the ground and barely stopped himself from falling. He crouched down and felt around on the floor for the object that had tripped him, soon finding it under his grasp.

Once he had it he stood up and felt the object; it was square and rough.

After a minute more of feeling it he realized it was a box of matches. He pulled out the compartment with the matches andblindly pulled one from the box. Then, without hesitation, he struck it against all sides of the box until he found the right one and the match exploded with orange flames.

With the lit match in hand, he observed the room around him. The floors, walls, and ceiling were all cement. It was mostly empty, save for one object in the center of the room.

Carlos slowly approached the object in awe. It looked like some kind of...tomb or coffin or something. It was large, about six feet long by two feet wide by one foot tall, and it was made out of what looked like gold. All over it's surface were decorative little jewels taht glistened in the darkness.

It was beautiful.

And yet Carlos knew from the minute he saw it that it was sinister.

As he could closer to it his emotions turned negative. He felt sad and lonely and angry and desperate and jealous all at once. He felt like punching someone in the face and then crying his eyes out. It was horrible.

Finally Carlos reached the tomb and put his hand on it; it was freezing. So cold, in fact, that he immediately pulled his hand off because the cold burned.

All at once the emotions Carlos had disappeared. In there pplace rose a single othe emotion: fear.

Carlos turned and started to run from the evil thing before him. The only problem was, it was like he was trying to run in a swimming pool, like he was in slow motion. He only got a few feet before a horrible screeching sounded tha tsent a chill up Carlos's spine and made him cringe.

Too fearful too look back, he continued to "run" as fast as he could. He wasn't getting anywhere, though.

Giving up on the whole running idea, Carlos turned round to face his enemy.

To his surprise, though, no one was there. The only difference was that the lid to the tomb was now on the ground, split in two.

He once again approached it, his fear now replaced with over bounding curiosity. He had to see what was in the tomb.

Once he reached it, though, it too wasempty.

"GO TO HELL!"

He was pushed onto the tomb and it started falling down endlessly. Carlos's stomach flopped and the last thing he heard was, "I'm awakening..." with a dark, ominous laugh.

Carlos awoke with a start, gasping from the falling.

That dream had been so real and vivid...

Carlos noticed that he was now alone in the lobby. He wondered where the others went, but when he remembered he was still mad at them, he shrugged the thought off.

Slowly Carlos stood up from the couch he was sitting on and he wiped the drool from his cheeks.

Once he was up he started to walk towards the stairs, but his vision starting going black from standing up to fast, so he had to lean on the front desk for support.

His vision started clearing up and he started to leave. But then, he noticed some papers on the front desk...

All they had on them was the number nine in bold over and over and over again, but Carlos was fascinated by them to stop.

As he looked through the papers he heard footsteps and someone say, "Hey, Carlos. Good to see you're up." Subconsciously he recognized it as Logan's voice, but he continued to read anyways. He heard Logan sit down on the couch, but ignored it.

Slowly he flipped through the papers on the desk one by one. There must have been hundreds of sheets of paper, but all they had on them was the number nine. Over and over and over and over and over.

"What're you up to?" Logan asked from the couch.

"Just reading these papers...they're so weird..." Carlos responded.

He picked up the papers for proof and walked over to the couch, intending to show them to Logan.

"What do you mean?" Logan asked. He was laying down so Carlos couldn't see him.

"Here, just look at-" Carlos started.

But when he got to the couch, he froze.

"What?" Logan asked.

Then Carlos screamed.

Because on the couch wasn't Logan. On the couch was a hideous old man with Logan's voice.

Carlos awoke screaming. That nightmare was worse than the first one. And both seemed so real.

This time Carlos knew he was awake though. He was on the couch with everyone else just like he head been when he fell asleep.

"Carlos? What's wrong?" Kendall asked wildly. They all looked joustled by Carlos's screaming.

"N-Nothing, I just had a nightmare, is all." Carlos stuttered.

"Must've been some nightmare; you're sweating so much I'm soaked!" James said from besides Carlos on the couch.

"Yeah, I should probably go-" Carlos started to say. He was interrupted, however, by a large rumbling that filled the entire lobby. It lasted for about five seconds, then went away.

"What was that?" James asked fearfully.

"It-It felt like it was coming from upstairs!" Logan said.

"That's what I was thinking, too..." Kendall agreed.

They sat in shcok for a minute before Carlos spoke up, "Well shouldn't we go check it out?"

"Yeas." Kendall answered. "But not you, Carlos. You're too shaken up from you nightmare.

Carlos didn't protest.

Soon Kendall, James, and Logan were up and heading towards the first floor, leaving Carlos and the hotel manager alone in the lobby.

Carlos sat staring at the table in front of him for a while, absentmindedly listening to the shuffling of the manager working. He took a quick glance and saw that the hotel manager had once again changed; it was now a young-ish man. He was tall and fit with chestnut brown hair and strikingly blue eyes. Something about the man entranced Carlos.

"Pretty crazy stuff, huh?" the manager suddenly asked. His voice was smooth and calming.

"Yup..." Carlos said awkardly.

"Do you wanna make out?" he asked.

"Excuse me?" Carlos aksed, bewildered. He wasn't sure if he heard that right. What scared him though is for some reason he was tempted to say yes.

"I said can you take this out?" the man repeated. Carlos looked and saw he was referring to a trash bag in his hands.

"Oh, sure, I guess..." Carlos said.

He got up and approached the front desk, where he took the trash bag from his hands. As he took it from him, the manager leaned over and whispered in Carlos's hear, "You set me on fire."

Carlos blushed, asking, "What?"

"I said you look pretty tired." the manager said. "You're acting like it too. Anyways, the door to the back, where the dumpster is, is right over there." he said, pointing to a door.

"Ok." Carlos muttered. He was pretty flustered.

"Oh, and Carlos?" he said. Carlos didn't wonder how he knew his name, instead, he just turned around and looked at the man.

"Yes?" he asked.

"There is a basement." he said.

Carlos gulped nad stared for a minute. The manager went back to his work as if he hadn't just said that, oblivious to Carlos's bewildered staring.

Eventually he turned around and headed outside to the dumpster.

It was dark outside, and freezing. Even though it apparently wasn't a blizzard that stranded them there, it was still extremely cold out. Carlos's skin stung just from a few minutes of exposure.

He walked towards the big green dumpster and tossed the trash in, but then he froze. He got the unusual feeling that someone was watching him...

Quickly, he turned around, bu caught no one. It must've just been hhis imagination.

On the way back in, Carlos yawned and thought back on the day. It was definitely weird, and Carlos could tell something was going on. SOmething terrible...

The thing that struck Carlos the most though was the manager. He was just so charming...

And Carlos was not gay. Yet every time he saw that man, he just wanted to tear his clothes off and attack him. He was just...drawn to him.

Then what he had said to him...there was a basement. Carlos was right.

As he entered the lobby once more, Carlos made his mind up. He was going to get into that basement, no matter what it took. He would get to the bottom of this, even if no one believed him. Because he had to.

A grandfather clock in the lobby let out twelve gongs. It was midnight.

Day three.

Three days gone.

Six days left.

Six days.

Number nine.

Number nine.

Number...

Nine.

A/N: Ok, so this chapter is...interesting in my opinion. Kinda rushed but this is my only writing time. And I had writer's block when I wrote it. So please forgive any crappiness!

Please review! I wanna know what you think! What's going on here? Hm...

Oh and in case you were wondering, which you weren't, the second nightmare in this chapter is based off of an actual nightmare I've had. I was like rummaging through the fridge and my brother was talking to me then I went over to the couch and it wasn't him. And I screamed. HAha.

Thanks for reading! See you next time...

AK