Well, sorry to have to tell you guys this, but Kabuki and Sylvia are back in class and are thinking about PT jobs over the summer too. *sigh* RL likes to get in the way a lot, doesn't it? Anyway, we might be updating a little slower, but not by much. We're still a good four chapters ahead of you guys heehee! DANGER, WILL ROBINSON: FOLLOWING CHAPTER CONTAINS SOME GRUESOMENESS. But you all are beginning to expect that sort of thing from us by now, aren't ya?
The Pile of Thank-You's:
MalikFan – Geez, first again! We award you with the blue ribbon for uncontested First Reviewerness and Best in Show… just for fun. Come on, you gotta love the cliffies, but don't worry. Seto's in trouble as always. You'll see what we mean.
JSC106 – Thanks for reviewing, we're always glad to see new reviewers. "Freaked Out" is our theme in this fic. Thanks for the wonderful complement! We're flattered you think this is so good – you guys always make us blush! *grin* After dark fic reading can be dangerous… take precautions, we have a tendency to give nightmares Bwahahaha!
u don't wanna noe – Yeah, you could say that, but he's so much cuter than that kid in the Sixth Sense any day! Yep, the kid's gonna shine in future chapters, and we all know what that means…
Allenby – "Now showcasing the Second Showdown of the Century – Duke vs. The Hobo Part Two!!" Yeah, it'll probably happen, but maybe we'll let Tristan get in a slug or two. We saw some pics of the two of them together in the later episodes they're showing in Japan right now, and we figured they looked like good Ghostbuster candidates. Or at least like they could take on a hobo.
sakuya – Work? Oh yeah, the cleaning! Oh I'm sure they'll figure something out. They're a bit distracted at the moment, but they do have responsibilities now, don't they? Haha! Redrum is the most appropriate word possible for that last chappie (and kind of for the whole fic too if you think about it!)
darklight – We're glad you liked it! The suspense is half the fun, after all. Oh, don't go insane with worry just yet; we still have an entire weekend to go…
SetoKaiba419 – They say dreams can be premonitions of what's gonna happen, but we could just be showing symbolism too. You'll find out the meaning of REDRUM in the future, don't worry. It's dangerous reading this at night, especially this next chapter, but if you ask us it makes the story more interesting. Heeheehee. Well, we can't give away what's in room 217, we've already slotted Duke with discovering that little nugget of joy (poor guy). Mokuba's left unprotected without Seto, unfortunately, but surely he'll be okay. He's with Yugi and Co., right? We're glad you liked the Seto and Mokuba scene, they make a nice break in all the spookiness. Evil creatures, nasty hobos, and poltergeists – we can see how this fic can get to you after a while… The orphanage scene with the guy that lived in the attic was a genius trick of Kabuki's – she's always really good about that kind of thing. We figured Duke would have no idea about Millennium Puzzles or even items for that matter. He's got a lot of catching up to do. Hope we didn't give you too many nightmares, *grin* thanks as always for the review!
Robin-chan – Another new reviewer, thanks! It's wonderful you're getting creeped out by this – we must be doing our jobs well. Heehee. Just as long as you're not in the Overlook, you're probably not hearing any ghosts. These guys on the other hand… it's gonna get much more creepier before the weekend's over.
Chibi Arwen – Oh, Seto's just freaking out, that's all. Even Kaiba the Powerhouse can't stand up against this place forever. Seto, Mokuba, and Yugi are in for the ride of their lives pretty soon, just stay with us. Frights, chills, shivers – all in a day's work… Thanks for leaving a review, we're always glad to see new reviewers.
Thron – Welcome back, it's good to know we've got a fic-addict out there. Heehee. Thanks for the response!
Thanks to all of you for leaving reviews, they truly do brighten our day! Just to let you know, this fic is posted under Sylvia's and Kabuki's profile. We've also opened a YuGiOh villain board, Scarred Souls: Whispers from the Shadow Realm, and you can find a link to it on either of our profile pages. There you can find this fic and other stories by different authors. We couldn't find a good Villain board anywhere, so we decided to make our own. Drop by sometime!
Thanks for waiting, and now, on with the show! (Reviews are always welcome!)
--Kabuki & Sylvia
*****
Part 8:
The elevator clicked to a halt and the doors slid open to reveal a rather disheveled Seto Kaiba. He shook his head and stepped out on the landing, looking left and right in disgust. The lobby was completely alight. He growled as he stomped from table to table, switching off each and every Tiffany lamp. "Idiots. I told them to turn off the goddamned lights. Can't they get anything right? What if a fuse blew and the hotel caught on fire, what then? They'd whine and say I was responsible. Goddamn whining pups the lot of them!" It never occurred to him that the phrases were completely foreign to him. He'd never heard anyone call another person a whining pup in his life.
The last light extinguished, Kaiba turned and made his way to the small basement door behind the collapsed staircase. He knew the door had been left open, and the stillness of the lobby was no comfort after what he'd seen down that darkened hole. If the thing had escaped, what would happen? He almost expected it to jump him as he moved carefully behind the staircase and toward the place where he remembered the door had been. When he got there, however, he almost didn't realize what he was seeing. In fact he moved forward with the full intent of shutting the door when his churning mind came to a screeching halt and he stood stupidly in the darkened corner.
The door was closed. How had that happened? He hadn't closed it, and no one else knew where it was. He'd had to search for the damn thing for a while before the door had presented itself. The lock was still in place, smugly watching from its padlocked place against the dingy white of the door. The lock had been broken, just as he'd left it. He swept his flashlight around the lobby, the shadows leaping to and fro as he scanned for the perpetrator of such a hoax. There was no way the door should have been closed, and for a moment he thought maybe it had swung closed on its own in the breeze. It was entirely probable, but the only way to know for sure was to go into the basement, find the thing that lived there, and make sure it hadn't found some way out. Kaiba didn't think it could operate an elevator. There was a special key required to do that from within the basement, and only Kaiba possessed the item, affixed to the inside of his coat near the lapel. When the hotel had been built, it must have been a failsafe to prevent someone from escaping. Kaiba didn't understand the purpose of such a precaution, but he knew that the only way out of the basement was by using the key he'd found dangling from a rusty nail embedded within the stone wall.
He pressed a hand to his forehead, leaning against the wall for a moment as he pondered the situation. "This is crazy! There's nothing in the basement. I should have just stayed up there with Mokuba. What am I even doing here?"
But he already knew the reason he'd come down to check on the door. It wasn't just his own terror of the thing in the basement, nor his desire to protect Mokuba. No, he'd been a big brother for years, always protecting his weaker younger brother from anything the world threw at them. He'd used his own body to shield the boy on numerous occasions, and he thought Mokuba was turning out fine for all of it. Seto had little reserve about his own hardened heart; it was the spirit of innocence and joy in Mokuba that he sought to protect. That in mind, he knew he was stuck in such an awful situation precisely because he longed to protect those he deemed weaker. Mokuba liked Yugi, and it was for the sake of his brother that Seto Kaiba now pondered descending once again into one of the most terrifying places he'd ever visited. If Mokuba liked Yugi and his friends, Kaiba would see that no one was harmed by the strange creature he'd encountered.
The problem, though, was deciding whether he wanted to go down there again. The closed door seemed to mock him in his indecision. Finally, Kaiba turned from the basement door and made his way to the main entrance of the hotel. If he was going into the basement, he may as well fix the generator properly. For that, he'd need the correct tools. He wouldn't be so stupid as to descend into that darkened pit without them again.
Kaiba turned the latch and pushed easily on the door, but it didn't budge. With a frown, he pushed again, increasing the pressure when he felt the door give a little, then a little more, until he could squeeze through the opening. It had snowed heavily in the time they'd been at the Overlook Hotel, and a small drift had formed at the base of the door. Seto pulled his coat more tightly around his throat against the fierce wind, and trudged through the mounds of frosty whiteness toward the garage. His flashlight only caught flecks of the swirling snow in its light, so that Kaiba had to squint to make out the dim outline of his destination. He ran a hand along the wall of the hotel as he moved – it would do no good for him to get lost in the blizzard and freeze to death.
He found the garage door only a couple of yards away from the front of the hotel. Pegasus had been right about that at least. The door was closed against the wind, and Kaiba lifted it without a problem, revealing a variety of interesting items. Three snowmobiles stood gleaming at the ready, obviously procured by Pegasus in case of sudden snow. Behind them were a two-way transistor radio and a variety of gardening and household tools, old and new. Kaiba selected what he would need, and left the garage quickly. He was interested only in getting the job over with and returning to bed. Mokuba would be waiting for him, and the thought gave him a great deal of comfort as he ploughed through the snow again. The chilly weather had grown frigid, and the wind was an unrelenting press against his back until he slipped inside the hotel's lobby again and shut the front door behind himself with a slam.
He leaned against the door breathing heavily and letting the snow which had clumped on his boots slide onto the parquet floor. He didn't care about the hotel or how Pegasus might react to the water stains – in his opinion the place was enough of a dump. He may as well add a few of his own touches here and there. He walked to the fire and stared at the dying embers as he allowed his body to thaw. After trudging through the snow and feeling the effects of such physical labor, ghostly events seemed childish and unreal. He wondered what exactly he'd been so afraid of, and he chastised himself for getting caught up in Pegasus' scheme. "I've been thinking too much, that's all. I'll just fix the generator, poke around to make sure nothing's down there, and then I'll spend the rest of the weekend with Mokuba. That won't be too hard, so quit thinking and start moving." Thus motivated, Kaiba strode across the room and entered the elevator. It had stood open the entire time, as though waiting for him, and the warm yellow light was comforting in the comparable darkness which shrouded the lobby and the hallways above. He pressed the button, but the elevator was already descending. If Kaiba had been paying more attention to his surroundings instead of his own thoughts, he might have reconsidered his conclusions concerning the oddness of the hotel.
As he descended, a strange nausea washed over him, and Seto had to lean against the metal doors to keep from falling over. The feeling passed as soon as it had come, however, and as the doors slid open Kaiba chalked it up to the wound which still throbbed dully on the back of his head. He supposed Tea would have to bandage it later. For now, though, his mind was on other things as he swung the flashlight protectively out in front of him and stepped from the comforting yellow light and into the basement itself. The elevator doors slammed closed after him and ascended to the upper floors. Kaiba watched it go curiously, wondering who else was awake at such a late hour, then reasoned that Joey or one of the others must have gotten hungry and were preparing to raid the kitchen. No matter. They'd never know he'd been gone, and that was all he cared about for the time. He allowed the light to play over the masses of paper and the generator itself, purring like a jungle cat amidst the trash which littered the floor. He looked to the twisted stairs, but could spot nothing moving amidst the shadows. "Come out, if you're there! I know something's living here, and if not then I'll have your hide, Pegasus!"
Silence was his only answer, and Kaiba swept the flashlight back and forth a few more times before admitting defeat. There were just too many places to hide and he couldn't possibly check them all. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he wandered the paths he'd cleared earlier that night, weaving through the mounds of old documents in search of some sign that another person had entered the basement. Whether the thing he'd seen was a mechanical device or a living person, some evidence would present itself. Try as he might, though, Kaiba couldn't even find so much as a dusty footprint. In his haste to escape the basement he reasoned that he'd most likely destroyed any relevant evidence as he'd stomped through the debris. Frustrated he lashed out at the nearest slightly stable object, a particularly short stack of cardboard boxes. As Kaiba turned, determined to remain above Pegasus' schemes and set about the task of properly repairing the generator, something heavy fell from the top of the cardboard boxes, landing at his feet with a smack. The sound was deafening in the tomb-like silence of the room, and Kaiba winced involuntarily at the noise. The dust resettled on the floor, and Seto trained the electric light over the strange object. It was darkly colored, dusty, and rectangular – it took him a moment to recognize it as some sort of an oversized book, bound on the left with a thin rope. Seto kneeled and lifted the book, brushing his fingers over the cover. The dust cleared away, revealing aged letters in gold leaf, gracefully curved in some calligraphic script. He rubbed away the rest of the dust and grime, revealing the words in their completeness: Overlook Hotel, 1929.
Curious, Kaiba flipped the cover open with his thumb to reveal first a blank page, then a yellowed newspaper clipping, the article cut here and there to make it fit within the book. Seto aimed the flashlight onto the page, scanning the article. Something about a Harold Durwent and a large sum of money being invested into a property he'd recently acquired. The writer of the article hinted strongly at mafia connections being the reason the hotel had shifted to Durwent's ownership. Kaiba checked his watch and the digital glow proudly illuminated the time. It wasn't quite midnight, but the lateness of the hour didn't bother Seto. He often was the victim of insomnia, sitting up late sorting through information was part of his job. He carried the scrapbook back to the softly purring generator and leaned against it, propping his flashlight between his legs to illuminate the pages as he examined the article.
POSH MOUNTAIN RESORT REOPENS
WITH STELLAR GUEST REGISTER
Will the Overlook turn over a new leaf?
By Jonathan Elliott
Harold Durwent, long time casino owner and golden boy of the Vegas Strip, has set his sights on a new project.
The Overlook Hotel, the scene of some of the most extraordinary festivities and host to the jet set and classically rich during the early 1860s, is about to get a makeover. Durwent refused to go on the record as to the exact date of the Overlook's completion, but he did indeed confirm that renovations have already begun. Situated at a fantastic elevation, many have tried to reopen the hotel as a ski resort to no avail. Durwent, however, might actually stand a chance. In Vegas he's known as once of the luckiest businessmen to ever live. He's dragged failing companies and casinos from their lowest points, even tackling the exclusive Monte in 1923, creating one of the biggest showplaces in New York which even now is a playground for the rich and famous. What does this mean for the Overlook? Plenty from the looks of things.
The famous hostelry has had a rather unlucky past, but this doesn't seem to thwart Durwent's plans. Ever since it's original opening in 1860, the Overlook has had a multitude of faces and owners. It started out as a spectacular hotel and resort, but only three years after the grand opening, the owner fell into bankruptcy and in his grief leapt from the highest turret of the hotel, plunging three stories to his death. Needless to say, the Overlook was abandoned and garnered the reputation of a failed endeavor. After this incident, many of its biggest supporters, namely the old New York set who had chosen the Overlook as well as L'Immaculé in Geneva as their favorite June getaway, blackballed the hotel. They refused to support anyone who wanted to reopen it, therefore financially condemning the once-famous Overlook to a downward spiral of decay.
Five years later, a local philanthropist turned the run-down hotel into an orphanage to clear the streets of the young pick-pockets and hoodlums. A scandal erupted fifteen years later when it was discovered that a deformed child of ten years had been locked in the basement for most of his life, and was even pulled out during All Hallow's Eve as a prank. Hereafter, the orphanage was immediately shut down, and the young boy's body was found strangled to death in the basement. No arrests were made, and for seven years the Overlook dropped the pretense of philanthropy and turned into a regular sot-house. Officially it was an unofficial shelter for undesirables and vagrants – until 1890 when it was nearly burned to the ground.
The moral – never allow the homeless to cook in an abandoned kitchen.
It lay abandoned for nearly fifteen years before it was taken up by a Pulitzer Prize winning poet and his two equally famous young apprentices who after three years of remodeling, reopened the Overlook as a school for aspiring young artists specializing in painting, sculpture, and creative writing. The famous poet, Mr. Ronald Dilacey, had a clandestine affair with a favorite student, Ms. Lily T. Eiden, who upon learning that Mr. Dilacey was married and had no intention of filing for divorce, committed a murder-suicide. His body was found in the middle of the famous hedge maze where the two had often met to conduct their secret trysts. She was found in one of the second-floor residential rooms by her anonymous roommate, a razor blade still clutched in her stiffening right hand.
Since then the Overlook has been devoid of life.
Will it rise like a phoenix from the ashes? Or will Durwent's plans go up in flames with the rest of the Overlook's cursed reputation?
A child? The thought rang through Kaiba's head, the majority of the article forgotten as he lingered on that one tiny detail. An orphan. Sealed in the basement his whole life. Misshapen and abused, hurt and laughed at, even used for a Halloween prank, and then the poor kid had been strangled to death. The mention of the dead child caught in his mind like a hook, stinging him and festering despite his best efforts to remain impassive, unaffected, and unafraid. He looked around the basement, noting how eerily formidable the daubs of shadow appeared after staring at illuminated paper for so long. He blinked, and cast the light about, sweeping it back and forth over the mounds of paper, the bricked walls dust covered and slick with mold, and glinting off the statue in the center of the room …
Kaiba could see the outline of the marble man, and inexorably he knew that if he searched for the name of the artist, it would be deeply chiseled across the right buttock, the name of the woman who had so carefully and over a period of three years shaped the figure of a man in torment from a block of solid stone. Piece by piece, tap by tap, she had chiseled away, only taking time now and then to visit her beloved in the hedge-maze. It was childishly romantic, yet a cold unrelenting fury had been building, so that the original idea of the smiling figure had turned to a portrait of pain. He was certain the eyes had been chiseled out just before she opened her veins –
Seto moaned and shook his head, leaning forward to rest his head on his knees as he caught his breath. He was just tired, that was all. He'd catch up on his sleep and he wouldn't imagine such crazy things.
The article went on to describe Durwent himself, even going so far as to provide an age-thinned picture, and despite his dislike of Durwent's type or the hotel itself, Kaiba couldn't deny the pull of so much history. It wasn't the man himself – that was certain. Kaiba had known his share of businessmen in his time, and they always struck him as much the same. He regarded the black and white photograph of Durwent at the top of the article, and thought he knew the type. The guy was a regular suit if he'd ever seen one -- greased black hair and narrow eyes above a pencil-thin moustache greased in the style of the time, and a wide obligatory smile across gaunt cheeks. It was all very typical, and Kaiba wondered what was so special about the man. This was the face of a tycoon confident enough to attempt rebuilding the Overlook? Kaiba snickered and shook his head as he muttered, "I guess you failed at that little mission, huh Durwent? It serves you right. Only a fool would try to remodel this dump. Men like you and Pegasus – you make me sick. Even a child could see this disgusting place is a waste of time." He absently noted the date of the article was 1928. With a shrug, he turned the page to reveal another clipping, this one seemingly from a tabloid of the time.
The title letters were all bold block print proclaiming OVERLOOK GALA CELEBRITY EVENT beneath which was a snapshot of a tall, greasy man standing amid a throng of shimmering ladies and smiling tuxedoed men. Kaiba recognized the greasy man as Durwent from the previous picture, and as he stared at the new photo he realized he was staring at the lobby where they'd spoken to Pegasus earlier in the evening. The floor gleamed with fresh wax and all the furnishings practically screamed elegance in their newness. The people stared out from their place in the photo with such drunken happiness that Kaiba began to get the eerie feeling they were actually watching him. He ignored the accompanying article and turned to another page a little further in the book, skipping a few others as he skimmed about. The next one that caught his eye also featured a front page title:
GANGLAND HIGH TIMES AT OVERLOOK
Guest list rife with Gang lords
Roger Colbert, ed.
Nestled in the stately jetsetter paradise of the Overlook Hotel, a small skirmish has uncovered evidence of a greater drama unfolding – a drama with enough star power to attract the Feds. Harold Durwent himself, indicted last year under suspicion of tax evasion, made strange bedfellows with guests worthy of a gangland roll call. Among them, Louie "The Butcher" Rodriguez who was arrested fourteen times but never convicted for assault, battery, concealed weapons, assaulting an officer, and suspicion of murder. His brother, Joseph "Jesse Spurs" Essen, has no proven record of criminal involvement despite his Vegas holdings and ties to Organization overlords in Miami and New York. His brother's involvement in the axe-murder of long-time rival Marcus Riveli resulted in a fiasco which nearly implicated the half-siblings irrevocably. In the hairpin turn into disaster, however, Essen managed to pull enough strings to have the case overturned for lack of evidence. Rodriguez and Essen walked away scot-free, the murder left unsolved.
Another famous attendant of the gangland hullabaloo was Sara "Belladonna" McGuire, the most sought after and controversial of the Organization's pocketed perpetrators. The only woman to be included in high-up affairs for her marksmanship and frozen morals, McGuire started out as a call girl for Essen's father, Michael "The Croc" Essen – the big name in Vegas deals. Purported to have owned all of Las Vegas at the high point of his sordid career, Essen noticed McGuire's inborn assertiveness. It is rumored she manipulated him with the most abhorrent tools of her gender. At any rate, McGuire was the Madame of Essen's biggest and baddest hothouse, Cat Calls smack dab in the center of the Vegas strip. She was suspected of conspiracy for murder with the younger Essen Joseph, which succeeded when The Croc was found floating naked and face down in his private pool. No arrests were made, and the DA was reportedly getting a big payoff from Rodriguez and the younger Essen in the form of Ms. McGuire's services and a Swiss trust fund.
The article continued, but Kaiba had read enough. He didn't recognize any of the names, but that meant little. He'd never pretended to be an expert in crime trends. The next page was so large it had been folded, and Kaiba couldn't resist the temptation to flatten the flimsy paper, flatten it out and discover what was so important about the thin page. What he saw riveted him to his seat, and the low rumble of the generator seemed very far away as his eyes roamed over the image. It was full color, and so unmistakably gruesome that Kaiba wondered how it had ever been published. It was a suite from the layout of the room, large and with wide windows overlooking the boundless forested mountains in the distance. The wallpaper had once been white, but the photograph captured the splotches of red in all its brilliance. Seto's gaze was drawn to the bits of white material amid the smears and splatters of red – brain matter? – and he swallowed the welling lump in his throat as his eyes darted to the article on the following page: OVERLOOK SHOOT-OUT CLAIMS THREE! There was no byline this time, but the date was only 1961. Unable to reign in his curiosity, Seto devoured the article.
In a scene on which Harold Durwent, the aged owner of the glamorous Overlook Hotel, refused to comment, two men armed with a Tommy gun and pump action shotgun a piece assassinated purported crime boss Michael Gorbonzo and two of his closest associates. The gunmen apparently posed as bellboys, snuck to the third floor of the Overlook Hotel, and killed two of Gorbonzo's guards before breaking down the door to suite 300 and discharging an estimated three clips from their weapons into the bedroom, bath, and adjoining living quarters of the suite. The two men who were in the hall were murdered, and Gorbonzo, who was in suite 300 with an unnamed woman, was also killed. The woman was badly injured and is in critical condition.
The gunmen have not been found, and no evidence has been uncovered that could indicate who ordered the hit. One of the few witnesses to the crime, and elderly member of the janitorial staff, notified the authorities when he spied the gunmen striding with obvious grim purpose through the third floor hallway, their faces concealed by ski masks. He didn't see the weapons, but was alarmed to see the strangely attired men – and frightened when the first shots echoed down the stately halls. A second witness, who insisted on anonymity, fingered a late model blue sedan as the purported getaway car as he raced to the second floor storage room for medical supplies and a weapon.
Durwent's chief assistant Sara McGuire did deliver a statement to the press, disregarding rumors that Durwent himself ordered the hit. She assured members of the press and frightened guests that the Overlook Hotel is still safe and will reopen for business regardless of the intentions of the mafia after a brief week-long clean-up and recuperation period.
Durwent himself could not be reached for comment and authorities have purportedly not yet ruled the billionaire out as a suspect.
Kaiba couldn't stop himself from reading the rest of the write up after such a great hook. His eyes flitted across the page hungrily, and he came to the decision that the Overlook might not be such a terrible place after all. Seto had never been a fan of history, and always dreaded his classes on the subject. Computers had always been his greatest pleasure, and mathematics was much more enjoyable than tracing the paths of time. Numbers were logical, predictable, and could be manipulated to seek a desired end. History in comparison was full of loopholes, unpredictable, and without rhyme or reason. It never failed to infuriate Seto when a history teacher told the class that though the textbook gave a particular account of some event, it could be wrong. There was never any definite truth in the past, and Seto failed to see the point in studying something without any meaning; therefore he was surprised at his own fascination with the scrapbook. The history of the hotel fascinated him, despite his best efforts to put the scrapbook aside and get to the task of repairing the generator.
He flipped forward through the dusty book, passing clippings from many different ages and a variety of events, all related to the place in which he found himself. He glanced at the tools, and shrugged his shoulders. The generator could wait. Mokuba would be fine upstairs with Yugi and the others. It had been a long time since Seto had taken any time for himself, and he wanted to find out more about the mysteriously alluring Overlook Hotel.
Upstairs and away from the confines of the basement, the grandfather clock began to strike midnight in twelve lonely gongs which echoed throughout the lobby and the floors above it. As unexplainably as it had first occurred, the electric lamps lit themselves in a flash throughout the hotel, in every room except the servant's quarters and the basement. A classy tune filled trumpets and bass with the melodious voice of Billy Holiday rolled out of a broken jukebox in the as yet undiscovered dining hall. A woman's shrill cry of exhilarated excitement bounced through the elevator shaft, making Kaiba jerk for a moment. He glanced in suspicion to the elevator doors which stood like guardians in the darkness of the basement, but believed it to have been merely his imagination as he turned his attention back to the scrapbook. The woman's cry continued.
For an instant, Yugi's dreams were terribly disturbed and in fear he sat up straight in his bed gasping and clutching his Millennium Puzzle though he could not pull himself from the nightmarish images which plagued him. He was covered in a cold sweat, and if his friends hadn't been so exhausted, they might have thought he was having a psychotic episode in his sleep. Across the room, Joey's brow furrowed as he sensed some change in the atmosphere and the almost imperceptible fear of his best friend. Mokuba's eyes stared wide, but though he appeared awake his mind flitted through dreams. A thin trickle of spittle fell down his cheek as his thumb found its way into his mouth. He was completely unaware of his surroundings and his eyes gleamed wide, white, and terrified in the imposing darkness. In his castle on his private island, Pegasus fell through disturbing dreams of his own as he attempted to reach a dim light that he could not quite grasp. It was a dream he'd had many times before, but never had it been so terrible. The importance seemed drastically increased and he feared what would happen if he was unable to reach that one gleaming light in time before it was too late.
In the lobby, a man which could have been a large dog howled with delight as the clock hit the twelfth gong and was still. The hotel seemed to chant in maddening joy "Unmask…unmask…" The woman's incessant laughter melted into unearthly wails. Slowly, one by one, the lights turned out. The woman fell quiet, and the Overlook Hotel slumbered once again in its watchfulness as it waited for its guests' next move.