Wowiee! I haven't updated this fic in five months (not estimated, but exactly 5 months). So after recollecting all my memories on this story and having my writing skills to have improved over the months, I can now start this again.
I is for Ice, Icon, and Impale
Isadora was sitting down on her bed, not daring to enter or go near the bathroom where her brother was floating dead in the large tub. The phone rang, startling her.
"Hello?" she asked, picking it up.
"Isadora," said Quigley, his voice quivering. "This is hard to tell you, but you're next to die. The killer has set up a trap in your room."
"Oh no," Isadora gasped, her eyes gazing across the room. "No!"
"Hal has just died, and now it's I. You're the only person who starts with it."
"No," she said again, finding tears of terror forming in her eyes. "This can't be." She suddenly hung up, suddenly, and as Quigley tried calling her numerous times, but she wouldn't answer.
Isadora stood on top of her bed in fear, and then turned to a sudden sound coming from the open window. On the window sill was an ice box, with ice suddenly pouring into the container from a pipe above it. It had an icon of a bunny on it.
Gathering her courage, she made her way towards the icebox. The ice was filling the box and was already halfway full, as Isadora just looked at the ice. In panic, she tried to cover the pipe to avoid the ice to empty further, but the coldness of the chunks of ice made her pull away within half a minute. She tried shutting the window. The window had been mechanically stuck in its open position.
She backed away from the box as the ice overflowed the container, spilling all over the window sill and to the carpet, and outside the building. Worried and confused, she climbed back on top of her bed and hid behind the pillows in fear.
At last, the plastic container slipped off the window sill and plummeted down outside to the ground. The bunny icon on the box was a miniature machine in disguise, and it let out a long, sticky string just before the box had fallen, and Isadora saw it stick onto the carpet of her floor. As the box fell over the sill, the carpet was brought with it.
The entire room was full of tumbling around as the entire carpet flooring was being pulled out. The cabinets shattered as it fell over, the TV collapsed against the floor, and one of the beds in the hotel room was flipped over as the carpet was pulled out the window. Isadora shrieked and grabbed into the bed post of her bed which was pulled towards the window, as the carpet was being pulled out of the room by a tiny, strong string of substance. What she saw next as she still was being pulled around made her as pale as vanilla ice cream.
Revealed beneath the carpet flooring was a Styrofoam boarding, but below it as she could see with the light were small spikes, each one thicker than a clump of nails and as long as a foot. Her eyes widened in horror, and she screamed as she saw the chairs and the overturned other bed with spikes impaled from below them all around her.
She grabbed onto her bed as it continued being pulled by the carpet, and she looked down for a split second and realized that the bed she was on had been screwed tightly to the carpet for a purpose. As the entire carpet was nearly out the window, her bed moved up to a thirty degree angle as it was too big to fit through. Isadora screamed as the grabbed onto the bed post above her, as the bed was laid vertically against the wall, with the last bit of carpet attached behind it hanging out of the window. If she were to let go, she would fall against the long, sharp spikes. She grabbed on, with fright running through her body.
The luck vanished. The carpet flooring disconnected from the bed as the entire carpet fell out the window. The bed fell backwards with Isadora grabbing onto the bed post behind it and fell flat against the thin Styrofoam flooring and through, into the deadly spikes. The bed pushed Isadora down into the spikes, and Isadora's body was impaled by thirteen spikes simultaneously, three of them piecing through her head and four of them severing her right arm off in a jagged way. Blood oozed out from under the overturned bed.
"Damn…damn…LION!" Hector nearly yelled as he pushed his back against the door. The lion's continuing thuds pounded against the locked door to the entrance of Room 37. Quigley slumped against the other side of the room wall as he hung up the phone.
"Where's Isadora?" he sighed miserably. "Her phone line was disconnected."
"Don't worry Quigley, OOMPH!" said Hector in his most reassuring voice. "She knew she was next. She's most likely…ARGHH! Safe!" Hector kicked against the door, and the thudding noises stopped.
"I guess you're right," said Quigley, his hopes rising in an optimistic and slightly hopeful way.
Hugo stood by his door with his toothbrush and strands of wires in his hands. He knew, as a former locksmith, the best techniques on opening a locked door.
"Come on Hugo, you better hurry," said Kevin in a voice of frustration. "We need to get out."
"You should have used the bathroom before we entered here," said Hugo, sticking his toothbrush behind the edges of the door. "It's too bad there's none in this small room.
Vice Principal Nero in Room 17 repeatedly flicked the channel button of the remote control. "These lousy televisions!" he complained under his breath. "Let me see the Violin Concert already!" He threw down the remote to the floor, breaking it to small pieces.
Sunny Baudelaire cradled into Klaus' arms as she looked at Violet, panicked and worried as she tried dialing Isadora's room over and over again, numerous countless times. Her sister seemed to look like a robot, picking up the phone, dialing, listening, and putting it down. Her face was full of pain and anxiety.
"Scared," Sunny managed to whisper in a small voice. Klaus was thinking of saying something back to reassure her, but he discovered that he was feeling the same way as his little sister.
Thank you for reading! I hoped you liked it, and I will make the next letter when I can. J is for…