Six: The Missing Guard
873 Words
The grand entrance hall fell into complete silence.
Rain lashed against the stained-glass windows as every member of staff stared at the dark pool of blood spreading across the polished marble floor.
Marcus was gone.
Only his silver name badge remained.
Damien bent down and picked it up carefully. His usually composed face was pale.
"It has started."
The words echoed through the hall.
Elena stepped closer.
"What do you mean?"
Damien looked at her for a long moment before answering.
"It means the hotel has claimed its first victim."
The sentence sent a chill through everyone present.
"No," Daniel said, shaking his head. "Marcus could still be alive."
Damien didn't reply.
Instead, he turned to the staff.
"Search every room."
"The gardens."
"The basement."
"The woods."
"No one leaves the property."
Within seconds, employees scattered in every direction.
Two hours passed.
The search uncovered nothing.
Not a footprint.
Not a trail.
Not even a drop of blood beyond the entrance hall.
It was as if Marcus had vanished into thin air.
Elena stood beside Noah Carter, the detective who had just arrived after receiving Damien's emergency call.
Noah was tall, calm, and observant, with sharp brown eyes that missed very little.
He crouched beside the bloodstain.
"There should be drag marks," he murmured.
"There aren't."
"There should be footprints."
"There aren't."
He stood.
"This makes no sense."
Elena hesitated.
"What if someone cleaned them?"
Noah slowly shook his head.
"Not in under a minute."
His gaze drifted upward toward the sweeping staircase.
"Whatever happened here..."
"...it happened fast."
Later that evening, Noah questioned every employee.
No one had seen Marcus after dinner.
No one had heard him scream.
No one admitted seeing anyone suspicious.
When Elena's turn came, Noah closed his notebook and smiled faintly.
"You must be the new manager."
"I am."
"First week?"
She nodded.
"And already a missing person."
"I wish I could say this was normal."
"So do I."
He noticed the worry in her eyes.
"If you remember anything, tell me."
"I will."
As she stood to leave, Noah added,
"Be careful."
"This place feels..."
He searched for the right word.
"...wrong."
Around midnight, Elena returned to her room, exhausted.
She couldn't stop thinking about Marcus.
He had been laughing only that morning.
Now he was simply...
gone.
She opened the bedside drawer.
The diary was still there.
She hesitated before lifting it out.
The cover felt colder than before.
When she opened it, the pages flipped on their own until they stopped near the middle.
Fresh handwriting slowly appeared.
"He isn't dead."
Elena stared.
Another sentence formed beneath it.
"He's trapped."
"Where?" she whispered.
The ink spread again.
"Behind the walls."
Her breath caught.
Behind the walls?
Blackwood Manor was enormous.
Hidden passageways were certainly possible.
Before she could read further, someone knocked on her door.
Three gentle knocks.
Her pulse quickened.
She looked at the clock.
11:48 p.m.
Not after two.
She approached cautiously.
"Who is it?"
"It's me," Damien replied.
She unlocked the door.
He stood outside holding a flashlight.
"I need your help."
"Now?"
"I've found something."
Without another word, Damien led her downstairs.
The hotel was unusually quiet.
Most guests had already retired for the night.
They stopped in the entrance hall where Marcus's blood had been found.
Damien knelt beside one of the marble tiles.
"Watch."
He pressed against the floor with the handle of the flashlight.
A soft click echoed.
One of the tiles shifted slightly.
Elena's eyes widened.
"A hidden door?"
Damien nodded.
"It was built over a hundred years ago."
He pulled upward.
The tile lifted, revealing a narrow stone staircase descending into darkness.
A damp, icy wind rushed upward.
Elena swallowed hard.
"You knew this was here?"
"Yes."
"You've never searched it?"
"I have."
"Many times."
"And?"
His expression darkened.
"Every time I entered..."
"...the tunnel changed."
Elena stared at him.
"Tunnels don't change."
Damien gave a bitter smile.
"Neither should diaries that write by themselves."
For the first time, he acknowledged the impossible without hesitation.
He knew.
He knew far more than he had admitted.
Together they descended.
The staircase seemed endless.
The air smelled of wet earth and old stone.
Finally, they reached a long underground corridor lined with ancient brick walls.
Water dripped steadily from the ceiling.
Their footsteps echoed through the darkness.
Suddenly—
Elena froze.
"Did you hear that?"
Damien stopped.
Faintly...
Very faintly...
Someone was calling for help.
"Help..."
The voice was weak.
Barely audible.
It sounded like Marcus.
"It's coming from ahead," Elena whispered.
They hurried forward.
The voice grew louder.
"Please..."
"Help me..."
They rounded a corner—
—and found an empty corridor.
No Marcus.
Only silence.
Then another voice echoed behind them.
This one belonged to a little girl.
"You came too late."
Elena spun around.
Standing at the end of the passage was the pale little girl she had seen near the fountain.
She smiled sadly.
Then she pointed toward a cracked brick wall.
Before either of them could move...
She vanished.
The corridor fell silent once more.
Damien stared at the empty space where the child had stood.
His face drained of color.
He whispered a name so softly Elena almost didn't hear it.
"...Emily."
- Writer
