THE INN

Chapter: 0 When Someone Rethinks

We live in a world of catastrophe, mystery, and imagination where everything happens for a reason. There are two kinds of people. Some accept everything they hear while others believe in facts. Which kind are you? Will you trust your instincts or let fear rule your head?

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The soft orange light peeking from behind the clouds highlighted the outline of everything that came its way. The temperature witnessed a drop by three degrees. Stiles regretted his decision of wearing a half-sleeve grey jacket as he felt the air getting colder by the minute. Still overwhelmed by the events of the previous day, he had a hard time concentrating on driving the second- hand fiat he borrowed from his friend, Oliver.

The squeaking noise made by the car, every time he increased the speed reminded him of the day when Oliver got the car from his sister and brother-in-law as a gift for getting a job as an assistant cameraman. Oliver smashed the car and broke the tail lights on the second day of his new job. He tried to hide the fact from Stiles that he couldn't afford to get them fixed. Eventually, Oliver borrowed some money from him, which he hasn't repaid, yet.

Due to the lack of time and Stiles' inability to take any more drama, he agreed to take Oliver's car. He knew this way Oliver would be able to blame him for the horrible condition of the car. Oliver was a carefree twenty-eight- year- old, who changed four jobs in the time span of fewer than two years, but he always behaved like a spoilt teenager who didn't know what to do with his life.

On the other hand, he was the complete opposite. He hated change and despised people who thought that he needed to be more out-going, even though it was true.

Pushing his thoughts away, he diverted his gaze to the large empty field outside. He felt like a character from a movie who wanted to get as far as he could from everything and everyone. A loud buzz made him turn his head towards the passenger seat where his phone was lying.

Oliver's picture popped on the caller id.

'Ah... I can't deal with this right now,' he sighed.

He waited for the call to go to his voicemail, but his hope was crushed when Oliver called him again. He couldn't bear to hear the sound of his ringtone after the seventh ring.

Keeping one hand on the wheel, he picked the phone with his other hand and turned on the phone speaker. 'I can't really talk right now. Can I call you later, Oliver?' he said, trying to sound busy.

Oliver's voice followed by the sound of loud music came through the speaker. 'How can you still be driving? You left like three hours ago. It is just thirty- five miles away, right?'

Stiles' couldn't take the musty smell coming from the seat covers anymore. He rolled down the window and took a left turn before answering. 'I sort of got lost.'

'How could you get lost when you had that stupid glossy paper you call, 'map'?' he sensed the hint of mockery in Oliver's tone. 'Just use the map on your phone, dude. It's easier that way. Harrison is expecting you to reach Greywald by 6. I told him I'm gonna make sure that you got there, all okay.'

Stiles rolled his eyes at the mention of his boss, Mr. Harrison. Mr. Harrison was a five feet five inches tall man who was extremely proud of his bushy mustache. Everyone in the editorial department knew Harrison by his last name. He liked when people used mister in front of his name. It made him feel important. There were only a few who were allowed to call him Jack.

Yesterday, when Jack called Stiles in his room, he made a terrible mistake of calling his boss by his name, he was so embarrassed that he didn't know what to do. He hoped to get a reaction from Jack, but luckily all he did is to give him a long silent glare. Maybe because Jack didn't mind him calling him by his first name or now that he think about it maybe it had to something about the fact that Jack needed him.

No one was ready to go Greywald to cover the story. People didn't stop murmuring about the haunted inn. Jack wasn't the type of person who believed in ghosts or a haunted inn but when he heard that their rival channel was doing a story on the missing people he wanted to do a show, too.

'I said I'm fine, Oliver. Tell Harrison to relax. He needs to trust me,' he felt a little better as the cold air touched his cheeks.

Oliver cleared his throat before speaking. 'You and I both know all Harrison cares about is getting what he wants even though if half of the staff needs to go on a suicide mission.

'It's not a suicide mission,' he said. 'It's just like any other story. I can't spend all my life sitting on that old black chair in our office. Besides, I really needed a break.'

'Did you tell Riley about your little work break?'

Stiles' mentally slapped himself. How could he forget to call his sister? He knew she'd be furious if she finds out what he was up to. Riley was three years older than him, though, she never admitted it. She always teased him by saying that he was the older one.

When Stiles turned twenty-two, he shifted to California for his new job while Riley completed her graduation. Now, after five years Riley is a forensic expert in San Francisco.

When Riley got her driving license, they used to go on road trips all the time. Riley was good at driving, and he knew how to read maps. He could've asked Riley to accompany him on the trip, but he knew he had to do it alone. This was his opportunity to prove to himself that he was good at his job.

He thought of an appropriate response that would stop Oliver from interfering and questioning his choice. 'I left her a message on her voicemail,' he lied. 'I'm almost there. I'll text Harrison and give him an update. You can hang out with your friends, now.'

Oliver laughed. 'Okay, I'll leave you alone with your thoughts. Take care of my car and text me...'

Before Oliver could complete the sentence, he disconnected the call.

The sky was turning dark. He stopped the car in the corner to look for a jacket that could at least cover his arms. He turned and reached for the blue bag lying on the back seat. He pulled the zipper and was surprised to see the condition of his clothes. This morning he packed his bags in a hurry, he literally stuffed everything he could see around. He lost the count of the total number of shirts he put. He could've rechecked and made a list of things he packed, but he was hesitant. Stiles had to report to the office before leaving for Greywald.

He could see a pair of black shirt and jeans rolled into a ball. He went through the bag in less than a minute and finally found the black leather jacket he was looking for. Without wasting any more time, he removed his half- sleeve jacket and put on the black jacket.

A churning noise came from his stomach, and his attention went to the fact that he hadn't had anything to eat for the past six hours. He started the car engine and drove away from the silence and darkness. He passed by a couple of houses and saw some people coming out from an eatery. He stopped in front of the entrance to make sure that he was going right. He waved his hand in front of a group of teenagers who were coming his way.

One of the blonde guys looked at him and then started talking to his friends like he never saw him. Stiles pressed the horn to get their attention they seemed too lost in their conversation.

He gave up and watched them walk by his car. His eyes traveled to the rear-view mirror where he saw a man. The man probably in his late fifties was wearing round glasses. A slightly younger woman accompanied the man. He couldn't help but notice the resemblance between the man and woman.

'Maybe they are related to each other,' he thought.

The man walked ahead of the woman. With the little light coming from the neon signboard of the eatery, it was difficult for him to see clearly. Stiles got off the car as the old man stood in front of him.

The man pushed his glasses up with his forefinger. 'Hey, you lost, young man?'

He was surprised to hear the man speaking with an Irish accent. 'Actually, I'm. I lost the map that I had with me, and my phone's battery is about to die. So, I was wondering if you could just tell me the way to the Silverton Inn.'

The man stared at him and waited for the woman. The man looked at her and then again looked at him.

'Did you hear, Grace, this young gentleman wants to go to the Silverton inn.' The man said.

Grace looked three to four years younger than the old man. Her short red hair made her ears look big. Her pale skin and sharp nose looked almost similar to that of the man.

'Oh, really. I haven't heard that name in ages.' she spoke with elegance.

The man removed his glasses and cleaned the lenses by the end of his redshirt. 'It's just a ten- minute walk from here, son. We can show you if you want. People get lost here all the time. The town is pretty big, you know.'

'Don't talk like a lunatic, Don. You'll scare the kid,' the woman looked at him. 'Don't listen to him. He is messing with you. You make two left turns and one right. You'll see the inn. It's a beautiful place.'

Stiles was unsure about what to say. 'Okay! Thank you so much, I really appreciate the help.'

Grace and Don said good-bye to Stiles with a wide smile on their faces. He got into the car he couldn't dare to look back. There was something weird the way the old man spoke Stiles couldn't pinpoint what it was.

He took a deep breath before starting the car. He adjusted the mirror and saw the old man waving goodbye to him. The woman was nowhere in sight.

Stiles tried to peek behind the corner of his eye. The old man was gone too.

'And I thought I was the weird one,' he muttered to himself.

He had no option except to follow the directions given by the old man. He couldn't find anyone else who could confirm that he was taking the right way. Hoping to get there before he gets another call from Oliver, he took two left and one right turn. He saw a wide empty space and parked his car.

Stiles grabbed his bag in one hand and phone in the other. He decided to keep his suitcase in the car for the night. He got out of the car. It was difficult to move his arms and legs. Sitting in an upright position for more than four hours without a proper break hurt his body. No trace of people made him realize that he was in a completely different place.

'I hope I made the right decision,' he thought.

Stiles was scanning the area when he heard a murmuring. He turned to his left and started walking ahead. He could clearly hear a soft drumming followed by a humming. He stepped on the dry leaves which made a crackling sound. He saw a young boy lying on a wooden bench. He was moving his thumbs on his phone screen. The light from the phone illuminated half his face.

'Excuse me!' Stiles said as he approached the boy.

He waited for the boy to move his eyes, but he didn't.

'Hey, I'm talking to you,' Stiles called him again.

The boy finally looked up. 'What?'

'Can you please tell me where the Silverton inn is? It's probably here somewhere.' he tried to balance the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

The boy looked down again and pointed behind Stiles. He turned and saw a narrow path covered in the grass leading to the inn, the shadow of the large trees fell on the path. The two-storeyed inn looked completely different from the one he saw in the photographs. The brown colored walls and a dark red rooftop were at least two shades darker. The glass windows had steel latches on them.

Stiles stood in front of the entrance. Putting the bag down, he admired the view for a minute. 'Finally.' he said.

Stiles pushed the door with the bag and put his right foot forward.

'Who is it?' a low rough voice came from inside.