Murder in the Honeybrook Hotel

Part Two: Frozen Solid

Detective Selene Voss tried not to show how she was freaking out inside. She was trapped in a hotel with a murderer, but at least she had people around her. If I were a murderer, she thought, I would want to kill the main detective too. She tried her best to act and look calm as her head began to spiral. She stepped out of the room. Jeremiah calmly followed her out as if he had not said anything detrimental at all. How long before he realizes?

she thought. How long before he realizes he slipped up and decides his next target is a high-value one? A shiver curled down her spine, like tiny hands tickling the ligaments in her back. She sat on the bed and tried to turn on the TV, but a no-signal sign flashed in her face. She exhaled sharply, and Madeline must’ve noticed because she turned around swiftly.

“Is something wrong?” she asked nervously. It came out more as a terrified demand than a question.

The detective looked her in the eyes. “Everything’s fine,” she said in a monotone voice. “I have not found any substantial evidence to convict any of you.” She tried to play into the part where she thought all of them were innocent and didn’t suspect one bit that it was Jeremiah. The old black man looked her in the eyes and smiled, but his smile was wrong, as if to say the detective chose the right answer.

It wouldn’t have made sense if she didn’t know what he had done. If he hadn’t said that, the smile would be nothing but another weird glance from him. She looked around the room, trying to take her mind off of everything, but surprisingly it was hard not to think of a serial killer.

“So can we like go home now?” Dylan asked.

The detective shook her head. “I’m sorry, but the blizzard is too severe. I’m afraid no one can leave. The best we can do is try and get some rest. Maybe it’ll clear up in the morning.” The words sounded wrong on Detective Selene’s tongue.

She desperately wanted to get out, desperately wanted to leave, but yet there was no plausible escape. She could run out into the snow, but that would probably just get her killed by the frigid temperatures. I hope this will turn out well, she thought, looking around at the group of people again. They were sitting on the beds, waiting for more orders, except for Jeremiah, who looked content—the content with what he did. A side of Detective Voss’s brain screamed.

He can’t be, she thought. No one could. He looked at her as if nothing was wrong, as if he didn’t just spoil his entire plan. She wanted to tell him. She wanted to call him out, but she knew that would only get her, Madeline, and Dylan killed. Maybe. Maybe not, she thought.

“I’m gonna get some sleep,” Madeline said, heading into the second room that the detective had conducted the interviews in. The detective looked around the room. Her heart was beating out of her chest. She hoped Jeremiah couldn’t hear it. What would happen that night? Would she be able to go back to her family?

She remembered her lovely husband and two kids. She couldn’t bear the thought of him having to live without their mother. She exhaled softly.

“I’m gonna go with Maddie,” Dylan said, walking into the room with her. The detective always sort of suspected that they were a couple, but never really cared enough to ask.

“I guess it’s just you and me,” Jeremiah said, flipping through the channels until he found one with a show on it and not just a blank blue no-signal symbol.

“I guess you’re right.” Selene exhaled slowly, trying to calm her heart rate. She curled up into bed and turned her back towards Jeremiah, staring into the pale wall that had various stains on it of different colors. Trashing that hell, she thought to herself. I wouldn’t expect anything other than this, she told herself. She heard Jeremiah stand up and head towards the bathroom. The detective closed her eyes, hoping to get some shut-eye. She couldn’t tell how long it had been when she woke.

It was one of those sleeps that felt endless, a dreamless sleep like you had merely blinked into the future. She awoke because there was a noise behind her. When she turned around, Jeremiah was just resettling himself. The detective stood up and headed towards the door of Madeline and Dylan’s room. She needed to check if they were okay, just in case. What if Dylan had killed Madeline? But if she had gotten this all wrong? All these questions raced through her mind. She cracked the door but didn’t hear anything. Didn’t see anything.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” An old, crackly voice came from behind her. When she recognized it as Jeremiah’s.

“Why is that?” The detective’s voice rang out more threatening than she intended it to, which might have angered him. A waft of existential dread wafted over her. The detective suddenly felt something wet on her socks. When she looked down, a small black puddle formed under the door, but it was too dark to tell what color it was. Is that what I think it is? Surely not, the detective told herself as she pushed the door open to see the disfigured bodies of Madeline and Dylan laying on the bed.

Selene turned around to see Jeremiah sitting up in bed, a smile on his face, but the kind that didn’t reach his eyes—the kind that felt not forced, but like a creature trying to pretend to be human, trying to pretend to smile, trying to fit in. He lunged at her, but Selene quickly grabbed the lamp on the table next to the door and flung it at his face. A hard crack echoed across the hotel room. She raced to the door. It wasn’t locked, so she opened it and quickly closed it behind her. She heard a scream of pain and aggravation come from inside the room. It was undoubtedly Jeremiah’s.

His old body was for some reason fast and agile as she raced down the upper deck of the motel, skipping stairs three at a time into the cold night. She couldn’t see anything because of the whiteout blizzard, and she grumbled under her breath with annoyance. It didn’t fill her, but dread overtook the feeling of calmness that she once had. She exhaled and sprinted across the snowy parking lot. It was easily knee-deep. Jeremiah followed behind her, but he was much faster. He lunged at her again, but fell into a pile of snow as the detective jumped forward before he could catch her.

She entered the tree line of the woods that surrounded the motel. The snow was less dense, but still hard to maneuver through. It was nearly so dark she could barely see. She squinted her eyes for a few seconds. Between squinting and opening her eyes, she was able to see her surroundings as her vision adjusted to the pitch blackness around her. There was a cackling laugh. The echo bouncing off the trees seemed to amplify the wicked sound of Jeremiah’s voice. He chased her through the woods, and she suddenly heard a weird shifting noise.

She turned around and saw Jeremiah, but something was wrong. His neck was longer—too long. His arms hung loosely by his side, dragging against the forest floor. His legs were taller. His face was slimmer and emotionless as he laughed. He gave her another wicked smile before charging again, this time having no problem catching up to her. She squeaked and pushed forward, thinking of her daughter and son and her husband. The thing that was once Jeremiah sped up. She could hear its thumping footsteps behind her, not daring to look back, but curiosity killing her as well.

She knew she was almost certainly not getting out of this, so what was the point in pretending? She would just take a peek, she told herself. Just a peek. She turned around. The creature she looked at was no longer human. All she could see was its white face, sharp teeth, endless rows of teeth that led down its throat, sharp long talons. Its grotesque face opened into a sort of smile that was way too large for its face.

Its feet were tall and lanky like a canine’s, but raggedy toes sticking out like carrots. Its fingers were lumpy and angled in all different directions. It didn’t have ears, but only holes that seemed to lead into its brain. Drool dripped from its jaw. The blue liquid splattered into the snow as green ooze came from a spot in its head where she had hit him with the lamp. Maybe it was Jeremiah, or maybe it was something pretending to be Jeremiah. All she could see was its white face enveloping her vision before black.