Disclaimer: abcdefghijklmnpqrstuvwxyz
A/N: Wow... all this time, and I finally figure out a new disclaimer that impresses me. Anyways... this stupid, STUPID story... haha... ok, so it's not really stupid. But it's one of my most recent ones that I've writen, and it just wouldn't end! By the time I got to writing page eight, I was ready to mass murder everyone in the story to get it done with. But, alas, I continued-- and ended up with this. The story is... well, a sad attempt at scary-- which it's not. But it has entertaining parts in it!
Now... on with something I haven't done in a long time. My reviews for last chapter... three of them gives --sad face--. So... I will resort to bribery... we all know that's fun. If I can get at least ten reviews (hell, flame me... I'm an actress... haha, I can take it!), I'll continue on 'A Windy Story'. I used to get upwards of 13 reviews before... c'mon people... haha, I've tried bribery... don't make me beg! Thanks, and enjoy!
Title: floor 13
Genre: I tried to make this scary, but it didn't work... suspesful... and some angst thrown in for good measure.
Summary: Dean decides to check, much to Sam's unenthusiasim, a supposed haunted room in a hotel. It takes a turn downhill when Dean goes missing, and Sam's in big trouble...
floor 13
"Seriously dude?" Sam shifted in the passenger seat of the Impala to get a closer look at his brother.
"Why not?" Dean grinned.
Sam laughed at the obvious question, "Dean, all we ever stay in is cheep motels that, if we're lucky, has enough hot water for two people to have a shower. I have yet to see you spend more than fifty dollars on a room. And now you want to go to some posh hotel in the middle of Buffalo that has twenty stories to it and room service?"
Dean shrugged as he maneuvered around the late afternoon traffic, "Why not Sammy? We just got new cards-- why not test them out on something good? We deserve a little pampering."
"Your idea of pampering is eating supper at Pizza Hut, or getting a new oil change," Sam pointed out, "Not a five star hotel."
"If you want to sleep in the car, I'll bring you down the free breakfast in the morning," Dean shot a warning look at Sam.
"Fine," Sam gave in, "I'll play along-- but sooner or later I'll figure out your little game."
Dean laughed as he floored through a yellow light.
-§-
"Room 666 please," Dean grinned at the formally dressed lady standing behind the counter.
The Winchester brothers stood in a large lobby with ruby red carpeting. Tall ferns sitting in marble pots stood in each corner of the space as people walked back and forth from the two stainless steel elevators which sat against the far wall. Bell-boys with red vests and white dress shirts stood around helping the customers move their things, and a long marble counter sat against the opposite wall of the elevators.
The lady in the red vest stared at Dean a moment before stuttering out, "I'm- I'm sorry… what was that Sir?"
"I'd like room 666," Dean stated simply, "That is, unless it's rented out-- which I doubt it is. I read somewhere that you haven't been able to rent out that room in what?-- two years?"
"Dean," Sam hissed from behind his older brother, "What are you doing?"
"Getting us a room Sammy," Dean supplied easily.
"What are you doing?" Sam repeated in a threatening voice.
Dean adjusted the single bag flung over his shoulder as he ignored Sam, and instead turned his attention back to the blond, "Silvia is it?" he glanced at her name printed on a golden tag, "Is there a problem with us renting out that room?"
"No Sir," she whispered, "It's just--" she cleared her throat, "We have plenty of other rooms available for you."
"Yeah Dean," Sam quipped up.
Dean discretely shot his elbow back to which he heard a soft grunt come from Sam. Again he looked towards Silvia with his practiced smile plastered on his face.
"Room 666 sounds great," he spoke heartedly, "I've heard lots about it, and I'm kind of a paranormal buff; want to check out the rumors."
Silvia paused a moment, glancing back at a door behind her reading 'Manager' before turning back to Dean, "Al-Alright Sir. How many days will you need?"
"Just one," Dean glanced at Sam who had on a look which he couldn't decide was pain or annoyance, "My friend and I are just traveling through."
Silvia typed some things into her computer, "Room 666 is a double room, and comes to $350 for the night."
Dean whistled, "Not bad. You accept Master Card?"
Wordlessly Silvia nodded, and took the card from Dean. A few moments, and two glances back at the managers office later, Silvia handed the card back to him along with two keys.
"There you are Mr. Nicholson, it's on the blank floor" she spoke quietly, "Check out time is noon tomorrow. There will be a pamphlet in your room explaining about the continental breakfast and room service. If you have any questions at all, just call the main desk; I'll be here all night to help you."
"Thank you," Dean turned around and walked a few feet before unsurprisingly being stopped by Sam.
"This is a hunt!" Sam whispered out harshly, standing in front of Dean.
Dean laughed, "Loosen up Sammy. It's probably nothing-- I just found some thing on the computer about the room being haunted."
"And you decided to just not tell me?" Sam accused.
"If I had told you, would you have come?" Dean questioned.
Sam thought about this, "Probably not…"
"See," Dean interrupted, "That is why I didn't tell you. This way you have no choice… unless you do want to sleep in the car."
"Dean, the only reason I wouldn't have come is because these things are ridiculous, and you know it," Sam had a hand on Dean's shoulder to stop him from moving any further, "These things are made up by the hotels to lour people into the rooms."
"Well they suck at it," Dean stated, "Like I said Sammy-- room's been empty for over two years. Last person that was checked into the place never checked out."
This caught Sam's attention, "You mean he died in there?"
"No," Dean shook his head, "I mean he never checked out. Guy disappeared at some point after checking in. Door guy said he saw him go up, but never came down. Cops searched the place, and never found him."
Sam sighed dramatically, "We'll stay the night-- but even if we find nothing, we leave tomorrow."
"Sure," Dean quickly agreed, "Here-- take a key, go grab the bags from the car, and meet me up there."
"Why do I have to bring in the bags?" Sam frowned.
Dean grinned, "Because I'm older."
"I'm bigger," Sam immediately shot back.
"Plus, I think the door guy is checking you out," Dean nodded towards the man in uniform standing by the door.
Sam glared at Dean a few seconds before speaking monotone, "What floor is our room on?"
Dean's eyes sparkled, "Floor thirteen Sammy."
Ten minutes later Sam had collected all of the things from the Impala, and was just closing the trunk when his phone rang.
"Damn it Dean, I'll be up in two minutes," Sam cussed as he struggled to balance the bags and reach into his pocket for the phone.
Looking down, he saw his suspicions true as the name 'Dean' flashed across the screen.
"Sammy," the voice came even before Sam could say a word.
"Dean?" Sam could sense fear in his older brother's voice, "Dean, what's going on?"
"Sam," Dean breathed out, "Don't come up here."
"Dean what happened?" Sam took a step back, and struggled to see up the tall building towards the thirteenth floor, "Dean!"
"Sammy… don't…" Dean's voice gasped out before a loud click ended the conversation.
Quicker than thought possible, Sam opened back up the trunk, and shoved everything minus a hand gun filled with silver bullets in the trunk. He ran as fast as he could towards the entrance of the hotel while shoving the gun in the rim of his pants.
"Are you alright Sir?" the door man asked as Sam ran past.
Sam didn't even bother to answer as he rushed to the elevator and smashed his finger into the button with the small arrow pointing upwards. While waiting for the elevator, Sam tried his brother's number on his phone, but got nothing but his voicemail.
"Damn it Dean," Sam's breath caught in his throat as he tried to keep his thoughts in order.
Finally the elevator door dinged open, and Sam walked inside.
"What the hell," Sam frowned staring at the buttons.
All the buttons shone with a number indicating the floor; all except where floor thirteen would be. The button between twelve and fourteen remained blank, and memories from past experiences let Sam know that nearly all apartment buildings and hotels refused to have a thirteenth floor; instead using the cursed floor as a 'pool floor', or where the workers were.
"The 'blank floor'," Sam breathed quietly, pressing down on the button as the words that Silvia spoke finally made sense.
Slowly the elevator made its way up, letting out small dings as it passed each floor. Sam's heartbeat slowly increased as he went so as by the time it got to the thirteenth floor, Sam felt as if he'd run up the stairs.
"Dean?" Sam cautiously called out as soon as he stepped out of the elevator, "Dean, are you here?"
No answer came, and Sam stared to his right and left. Each way was a long hallway carpeted by the same red as the lobby. Doors decorated each side, and Sam took a guess as he walked slowly to his right.
"Redrum," Sam whispered, expecting twin girls to be around the corner, "Hey Dean!"
Glancing at the doors, Sam immediately was put on alert. The doors read different numbers from each other; one being 1287, another 43 and the one at the end of the hall reading 0001. Again Sam took out his phone and pressed to dial his brother's number. He expected no answer, and so halted in his tracks when Dean's voice broke though.
"S-Sammy?"
"Dean!" Sam cried out, swinging his head around, "Where the hell are you?!"
"Where are you?" Dean's voice panted back.
"I'm-I'm on floor thirteen," Sam stuttered out, "Dean, where are you?"
"I'm in room 666," Dean's voice was quiet, "Sammy, I told you not to come up here."
"Like hell," Sam had immediately began to rush down the halls, his eyes searching for the wanted numbers among the randomness.
"Sam, there's something here," Dean stated, "Something's in the halls-- it left me… it's coming for you."
"What?" Sam stopped, his ears perking for any sound.
"It's coming for you Sammy," Dean whispered out ominously.
"Dean what are you talking about?" Sam felt his whole body shivering.
There was a long pause before Dean answered with three words, "It found you."
"Ahh!" Sam screamed out as suddenly everything went dark around him, his phone smashing onto the floor.
Sam crashed hard against the wall behind him, his breath coming in quick gasps. His eyes searched the darkness.
"Sammy…" the voice spoke in a voice Sam didn't recognize.
"No…" Sam whispered out, "No…no, no…"
"…Sammy…"
"Just go," Sam gasped out desperately as he sunk slowly to the ground against the unseen wall behind him, "please… just go…"
A low, ominous laugh vibrated through the walls as suddenly the lights cracked back on causing Sam to jump in surprise.
"Oh my God," Sam swallowed, his eyes wide as he stood to his feet.
Every door around him read 666 in bright red numbers.
"What the hell is going on?" Sam questioned the emptiness, "Dean? Dean!"
No reply came to his call as the hunter moved carefully to the first door across from him. The hallways were endless on either side and, while taking out the gun from the rim of his pants, Sam turned the knob of the door. With a slow creak it opened up as, with a deep breath, Sam burst through the entrance with his gun pointed in front if him.
"Oh no," Sam whispered, running his hand over his face and squeezing his eyes closed.
Before him stood identical hallways with the ruby red carpets and endless doors reading the devils number. The lights flickered ominously above him, but refused to go out as once again Sam studied his surroundings.
"Damn it!" Sam cussed loudly as he made his way slowly down the new hallway.
The hallways were endless as Sam inched his way down with his gun in hand. Any sound caused him to jump and halt in his tracks. It wasn't until he'd turned down yet another hallway and saw a new maze of doors reading 666 that he called out for his brother again.
"Dean," his voice, quiet at first, quickly rose with his panic, "Dean!" The same low laugh filled the hallway to his right and Sam swung his head around. A gasp escaped the younger brother's mouth as on the ground not ten feet away lay something black.
"Oh God," Sam whispered crouching down to his knees to pick up the item.
It was Dean's phone.
Open as if ripped out of his hands from mid conversation, Sam gazed at the only sign of his brother. Closing it with a soft 'click' sound, Sam stared cautiously at the door which it had been sitting in front of.
"Dean," Sam swallowed hard, and gently knocked on the door, "Hey Dean, answer me man…"
Soundlessly the door opened a small amount, and gripping his gun harder in his right hand, Sam pushed open the door more, taking a tentative step inside. The room looked like a normal hotel room with two double beds sitting against the wall beside the door. An end table with a lit lamp was in between two blackened windows on the far side, and a door leading towards unknown places was on the adjacent wall. All of this was taken in within seconds as Sam's eyes immediately went to the figure standing in the corner of the room. Even with it's back turned to the young hunter, Sam could tell that it was his brother.
"Dean," Sam breathed just as the door slammed shut behind him, "Dean… please talk to me…"
No reply came as Sam walked carefully across the carpeted room, his gun still clutched wearily. He shook as he got close enough to Dean to be able to touch him, and slowly Sam placed a hand on his big brother's shoulder.
"Dean…"
Harshly Dean turned around, his eyes black and a wide smile plastered on his face as he spoke, "Sammy, I told you not to come up here… something's here… something's in the hall… it's coming for you. It found you."
"No!" Sam screamed out as he was flung across the room.
With a sickening thud, Sam slid down the wall, his gun having flown further out of reach than he'd have liked. Gasps wracked through his body as the youngest Winchester attempted to catch his breath and keep the room from spinning in front of his eyes. While doing the seemingly impossible task, Sam caught sight of Dean's bag not even a foot away from his face-- something silver shinning from inside it; it was a flask.
"Holy water," Sam smirked, reaching his hand towards the bag.
In an instant Sam was to his feet, and splashed the liquid at Dean.
"Arrrrgggggg!!" Dean screamed out, his back arching in pain as the evil darkness shot out of his mouth and disappeared through a heating vent on the floor.
Dean fell to the ground with a thump as Sam rushed over and fell to his knees; abandoning the flask of holy water on the floor.
"Dean," Sam gasped, grasping hold of Dean's shoulders, "Dean… c'mon man, say something."
Heavy eyelids opened as Dean looked up at the blurred vision of Sam. Confusion washed over him like a thick blanket as the elder Winchester struggled to figure out what happened.
"Dean," Sam repeated, making sure to keep physical contact, "Can you hear me?"
Dean licked his lips, closed his eyes and nodded his head, "Y-Yeah."
Sam took a deep shaking breath, "Thank God…"
Dean groaned as he pulled himself into a sitting position, "Sammy… what happened?"
Sam held sturdy onto Dean's elbow to keep his brother from falling back down, "What do you remember?"
Dean took this time to look around at the room he sat in the middle of. Finally, like a horrible flood, all the memories of everything came back to the older brother, and Dean gasped, his eyes wide as he stared at Sam.
"Easy, easy!" Sam demanded, "Are you alright?"
Dean breathed deep, "Yeah," he looked around some more, "That son of a bitch!"
"Dean, stop!" Sam grabbed Dean's arm to stop him from jumping to his feet, "Just sit still for a minute!"
"No, no, no," Dean's eyes were wide, "Sammy we gotta get out of here. We--"
Dean suddenly paused in his half standing position as he stared at Sam. Sam's first instinct was that his brother was hurt, and it wasn't until he felt the warm liquid dripping down his forehead that he knew it was, in fact, the exact opposite.
"Sammy…" Dean was to his feet now.
"Forget it Dean," Sam's voice shone with warning for Dean not to get into the big brother routine, "Not now. I need you clear headed."
"Dude, you're going to be the one with a clear head if you keep fricken bleeding like that!" Dean attempted to get closer to the wound.
"Leave it Dean," anger laced in Sam's voice, "You're the one who insisted on this hunt, and I need you to help get us out of here."
"Ok," Dean gave in, then looked at the entrance, "The door! Let's just get to the elevator and leave."
"It's no use," Sam shook his head, "I just finished wandering around out there-- whatever is trapping us here is doing a good job." he glanced towards one of the windows, "We can try and get out that way though."
The brother's walked to the window, and with a loud grunt, Dean pushed it open and stuck his head out into the night.
"All I can see is darkness."
"Let me see," Sam pulled Dean out and looked.
Everything was black. The ground bellow, directly across; everything was dark, though he could smell the fresh air. Directly outside the window was a ledge less than two feet wide, and straining, Sam managed to see an old fire escape twenty feet to the left.
"There's an escape," Sam's voice shone with excitement as he came fully back into the room, "There's a fire escape about twenty feet out. I'll go over there, and check it out."
"Sam, the ledge is too small!" Dean cried out, "No way in hell am I going to let you go."
"You can't," Sam rationalized, "You were just possessed by a damn demon and then flung unconscious. Don't worry-- I'll be fine."
"Sam!"
But it was too late, Sam was already moving his six foot four frame outside of the window; the cool air blowing on his face. Grasping the brick surface on the outside of the building, Sam managed to pull himself into an upright position with his feet barely staying on the edge. He took a steadying breath before inching his way towards the fire escape.
"Be careful Sammy!" Dean called out urgently as he watched his brother.
"Yeah," Sam clutched the wall for support as he moved.
He was almost there. Sam could see it. Five feet, if that; if he really wanted to, Sam could jump and make it. But he couldn't.
It found him.
"Sam!" Dean yelled out, "look out!"
The same girl that checked them into the hotel an eternity ago now stood on nothing in front of Sam. She wore her bright red vest with a white blouse underneath. Her black pants blended into nothingness as she stared at Sam.
"Silvia," Sam breathed, "It was you."
Silvia smiled a long moment before speaking, "Nice try Sammy."
In one swift movement Silvia grabbed Sam's arms and pulled him. Sam was gone before Dean even knew what happened.
"Sammy!!" Dean's voice echoed loudly as he stared dumbly at the spot where Sam once stood.
Nothing was there now.
"God damn it!" Dean shouted struggling to see the ground bellow the window.
Something inside of him told Dean that Sam may have fallen, but never hit the ground. His little brother's scream had disappeared barely before it escaped his mouth, and Dean's heart pounded as he stumbled back in the room.
"He's still alive," Dean breathed, "He has to be… he-he's still alive."
His eyes darted around the room for any answer; finally landing on a single piece of paper sitting on one of the two beds. His legs were rubber as Dean walked over slowly and picked it up, reading it carefully;
Buffalo Heights Hotel
Continental Breakfast every morning at
7:30am
Room service available.
For any help or assistance please call me at the front desk.
There will be someone there in all hours of the night.
"The front desk," Dean held the piece of paper, "…Silvia."
Sitting neatly between the two beds was a small wooden end table with an older looking phone sitting on it. Moving as if in a trance, Dean picked up the receiver and pressed the small red button for the lobby desk.
"Front desk, how may I help you Dean?" Silvia's voice iced through.
Dean breathed deep to control his emotions, "Where's my brother?"
"I can't help you," Silvia's spoke carefully, "I'm sorry."
"No," Dean stood to his feet, "No… you can't do this to me lady. Tell me… tell me what I have to do."
There was a long pause, "All complaints regarding your stay will be directly transferred to the manager."
"The manager?" Dean's voice was quiet as realization struck him, "Hey… why did you keep looking over at the managers office when I was down there?"
"I'm sorry Sir, I can't--"
"Answer me!" Dean yelled loudly, ignoring any will to keep calm.
"Don't," Silvia's voice had gone from cold to scared in a matter of seconds, "Don't… go in the bathroom."
Dean hung up the phone without saying another word and looked towards the door on the far wall. There was only two in the room; one leading to the useless hallways, and one that neither Winchester had yet to open. Slowly Dean walked to the door, grabbing Sam's abandoned gun as he went. Not wasting time to be nervous, the hunter then opened the door and stepped into darkness.
Almost immediately, light illuminated from a single bulb in the center of the room, and Dean found that he was no longer in a bathroom, never mind room 666. It was some sort of supply closet with shelves and storage buckets with brooms and mops scattered about. But it was the body hanging from a rope in the middle of the room that held Dean's attention. The body was immediately recognized.
"Silvia," Dean took a step closer to her hanging corpse.
"He did it," Dean swiveled around to see Silvia standing behind him, "The manager."
Dean frowned, "He did what?"
Silvia smiled, "He's the one who told me to come up here. Said that he wanted to talk to me… that it was important. So I came up here, just like he said. But then… he wanted me to join his club."
"What club?" Dean stared intently, hoping against anything that somehow this would all lead him to his brother.
"All of the girls that worked here had to sleep with Roger," Silvia explained, "It was a requirement. But I refused for nearly a year before he got me up here. He tried… he really did. But," Silvia pulled out a screwdriver and Dean took a tentative step backwards, "…but I got him first. Then I did this."
"You killed yourself?" Dean questioned carefully.
Silvia studied Dean for a moment, "Would you be able to live with yourself if you killed someone?"
Dean didn't answer.
"Why are you doing this?" Dean finally asked.
"I couldn't leave," anger suddenly was plastered on Silvia's face, "I was alive, but I couldn't leave from here. As soon as I did, someone would know I killed him-- someone would know what I did," she paused and looked at Dean, "And now you know."
"It wasn't your fault," Dean immediately pointed out, "The guy was trying to rape you-- you were defending yourself. That isn't your fault."
Silvia shook her head, "They'll never see it that way."
"They would. You just-- you have to let people leave when they come here," Dean stated desperately, "You can leave-- this guy-- whoever he is, is gone. You got rid of him. And I get it, he was a mean son of a bitch who deserved a lot worse; I don't blame you for that. No one would. But keeping innocent people trapped up here; killing them. That is what makes me want to put a clip into you right now."
Dean watched the spirit of Silvia as she thought before speaking, "Roger would have never let me leave."
"I'm not Roger!" Dean's emotions were quickly sneaking back up on him, "Just go, and I swear I won't hunt your ass down. Just leave, and quit doing this to people."
It was another long moment before Silvia spoke softly, "Your brother will be alright."
Instantly she disappeared before Dean could say a word. Carefully the elder brother looked at his surroundings, his heart thumping in his chest. The body was no longer hanging from the ceiling and the door leading out of the storage closet was ajar.
"Come on," Dean whispered the plea as he stepped outside.
Red carpet welcomed him as Dean stared up and down the hallway wearily. Glancing back at the door which he'd just walked out of, Dean read the small letters and numbers reading '6-66: Floor Storage'. Thoughts whirled through Dean's mind, and he was just about to question whether it was over when a small girl ran up to him.
"Neat mister!" she cried out, "Is that real?"
Dean wasn't sure what she was talking about and it wasn't until he noticed her eyeing the gun still in his hand that he was brought back to reality.
"Umm, no," Dean smiled, seeing the girls mother walking over, "Just-just a water pistol," then added for effect, "Guns are bad."
"Samantha!" the mother scolded, "What did I tell you about talking to strangers?"
"Sorry," the girl slunk off, and Dean's eyes widened in horror.
"Sammy," Dean gasped. Never before had Dean moved so fast as he found a door with the word 'exit' overtop of it in glowing red letters. His phone was missing, and Dean had no clue as to where Sam was; Silvia had said he was ok, but the hunter knew better than to trust a spirit. He also knew that his Dad's old cell phone was in the car, and so if he could get there, he could try and phone Sam.
Dean was vaguely aware of the fact that a lady looking nothing like Silvia now stood behind the counter, though knew better than to question this as he rushed past the doorman and out of the hotel. The walk to the car was done quickly and soon Dean found himself halted in his tracks as he spotted none other than Sam standing to his feet outside of the black car.
"Sammy!" Dean called out and ran over.
"Dean!" Sam echoed his brother's cry.
Dean's eyes were wide as he grabbed Sam's arm as if to make sure he was real.
"Sam…" Dean's voice was hoarse, "Did you…"
"Yeah," Sam breathed.
"Are you…"
Sam nodded, "Yeah."
"Oh my God," Dean whispered out taking a step towards the car and resting the top half of his body on the roof in relief.
Sam walked over, "Are you alright Dean?"
Dean nodded, "Yeah, I'm good."
"Did she do anything to you?" his brother questioned.
Dean shook his head and turned towards Sam, "No-- you, on the other hand Peter Pan… are you sure you're not hurt?"
Sam held out his arms to show, "Not a scratch. I don't remember much though-- I mean after she pushed me. Next thing I knew I was laying by the car, and then saw you coming. Is she-- gone?"
Dean nodded, "Yeah, it's all good."
Sam decided not to question what happened, but instead just stayed thankful that the two of them got out without any serious injuries.
"What do you want to do now?" Sam asked after a moment of collective silence.
Dean eyed the mixture of blood and bruising that was collecting on Sam's forehead, "We need to get you cleaned up for one. So come on," Dean grinned, "I know where there's a motel just outside of town."
The End.