I Work As A Front Desk Agent In A Hotel I’m Not Sure Is Real: Part 2

In spite of its rather glaringly obvious flaws, I’ve really grown to like this job. I mentioned it briefly before, but the staff here really does feel like family to me. I’ve talked a bit about Pierrot and Kieran- I see those guys a lot- but there are a few others that I really only see from time to time. One of those guys is Julio, he’s our other maintenance guy. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s just him and Kieran running the maintenance for this whole place, at least while I’m on shift. I’ll be the first to say, they get a hell of a lot done for just two people. Julio is a mystery to me, even after all this time. Most of them still are, but Julio especially so. He’s very soft spoken, when he does speak, which is almost never. He’s very handy, very capable, super helpful, and -to be honest with you- I think that’s a part of why he’s so odd to me. He’s so helpful, he often tends to show up before we actually even need to make the call down to the maintenance office on the radios. At first, I wrote it off as the timely efficient work of a very dedicated and experienced man that had access to security cameras, and perhaps too much time. After a while, however, it became obvious that Julio just knew a lot more than he let on. Maybe, even more than he should, even more than any regular hotel maintenance man should have. One day, I got a call down to the front desk from a patron complaining about an ice machine on the 14th floor that was on the fritz. Julio and Kieran were busy, something about “culling the old gods that had roosted in the 5th floor vents” or something like that. Anyways, I decided to make my way up to the 14th floor to take a look for myself. I figured the machine just likely needed to be reset, a common occurrence with the older machines Kieran always complained about on the lower floors. After some time I managed to make it to the 14th floor, but not without great difficulty. No insane anomalous events, no wild stories for the walk up. I’m just out of shape. I’d have taken the elevators, but I learned my lesson after last time. Maybe I’ll tell you about that one someday. But seriously, if you ever end up in this place- which I hope you don’t- DO NOT take the elevators. Anyways, I had just gotten to the ice machine and- boy let me tell you- I was exasperated. I reached into the depository for an ice cube to cool myself off and was quickly reminded why I had taken the trek up fourteen floors in the first place. 

“Oh- right- well, shit.” I muttered to myself as I grabbed the handle and swung the machine’s door open. 

I wasn’t completely sure what I was supposed to be looking at. After all, my time here in this place had largely been relegated to the front desk, and my knowledge of ice machine operations was practically nonexistent- aside from what Kieran had told me during his longwinded rants. What I do know with near certainty, is that standard, factory line produced ice machines don’t contain alien creatures chained up inside them. I’m almost 100% on that one. I stared for a moment, holding my exhausted breaths back painfully in my chest as I loomed, gazing upon the wheezing creature for a few seconds. Its loose, wrinkled skin was pale and sickly, a faded blue rippling over deep purple veins. Its eyes were sunken and dark, its limbs atrophied and frail. It was small, almost premature in appearance, with grotesque features that bulged and receded seemingly at random. Without uttering so much as a breath, I slowly reached up to the radio clipped onto my chest aside my nametag and pressed in the grooved button on its side.

“Hey Julio, can you come up to the 14th floor when you get a second.” I said with a sigh.

I wish I could say I was horrified, mortified, shocked, intrigued, sad, concerned, scared- I wish I could say I was anything but what I actually was in that moment- which was just… annoyed. Annoyed that the ice machine wasn’t a simple fix and that I had wasted my time and precious energy ascending a staircase that- to me- rivaled Everest. Before I could even release the radio's talk button, a voice spoke back to me- however- not from the other end of the radio, but directly to my side a mere inches from me. 

“Si.” The voice said

“JESUS!” I exclaimed.

“No, senor. Julio.” he muttered, gently moving me to the side to investigate the contents of the machine. 

“Yeah, I- it’s just an- nevermind…” I said before quickly moving on.

“How’d that thing go on the 5th floor? How’s Kieran?” I asked. 

“Dead.” he said bluntly, sliding a large toolbag from his shoulder onto the floor with an audible ‘thud’. 

“Yeah, I figured as much. That guy can never catch a break. Was it quick this time?” I inquired.

“No.” he responded very matter-of-factly. 

“Ah- damn- that's a shame. Well, ya win some ya lose some, am I right?” I said, nudging Julio playfully.

“Si.” he said, as he knelt down and began rifling haphazardly through his toolbag. 

I watched as Julio produced from his bag- first- a flower pot full of a strange, purple, gooey substance. He placed the pot onto the ground between us before reaching into the machine, unchaining the sickly looking pale blue creature, and sliding him gently into the goop filled flower pot with a sickening squelch.

“That’s… gross.” I said, unable to hide my disgust. 
“... what happens now?” I said curiously. 

“We wait.” Julio replied. 

It only took a few moments before a small appendage protruded from the mush filled pot before me. A tiny, wriggling blue tendril had begun dancing excitedly from the purple substance- it was no larger than a sewing needle- barely visible to the naked eye at first glance. 

“Hey! I think I see something hap-” was all I managed to get out. 

Within a split second, the micro-sized sprout erupted into a writhing mass of thick, dark blue and deep purple tendrils, thrashing and whipping about wildly in the claustrophobic hotel halls. I was flung violently backwards into a wall, just barely managing to cling to consciousness as my head slammed against the plaster and drywall behind me. Now, the in-between part is admittedly just a blur, but I definitely remember how I got out of there. I had just gotten back to my feet, and through my hazy vision and the wave of fleshy foliage I could just barely make out the silhouette of Julio. What happened next... well, I’m not really all too sure what happened next. I was looking at Julio, deathly afraid that I was actually about to meet my end at the hands of an ice machine dwelling alien, when all of the sudden, I heard him speak. He spoke without opening his mouth.

“Close your eyes.” He said chillingly.

It wasn’t his delivery that had left me unsettled, it was his lack of one. His words were empty- devoid of any emotion at all- as if they had been uttered from the depths of darkness itself. I listened. All I really remember as I sat there- eyes clenched tightly as I hoped, prayed just to be able to make it back down to the desk in one piece- was being cold- so cold- the coldest I’ve ever been. That, and the silence- the deafening silence. Silence so loud that even the imperceptible sound of passing time howls like a banshee in your ears, leading you softly into madness. I sat cowering in the hotel hall for what felt like hours, shivering and forcing my eyelids tightly together. Until I felt a hand place itself reassuringly upon my shoulder. 

“It’s okay, senor.” Julio said softly.

I slowly opened my eyes to see Julio standing over me, hand outstretched to help me to my feet. I scan the hotel halls for any signs of imminent threat, still shaken from the incident that had just transpired. What I see before me is not at all reminiscent of the experience that had just unfolded. The hallway looked pristine. As if it had just been cleaned- no- refurbished. There were newly plastered walls wearing freshly placed wallpaper, the carpets had been steam-cleaned and now emanated a floral aroma, the hotel rooms each held a precisely hung ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign lovingly from their doorhandles. Needless to say, I was puzzled.

“Julio- I- What- How-”. 

I fumbled with my words for a moment before Julio interjected. 

“All good, senor.” he said with a sly smile.

“I clean.” he continued. 

“... Julio, what- what was all that?” I managed to say shakily as I took his hand and rose to my feet.
The smile quickly escaped his face as he looked at me with such intensity that it felt as though he was looking through me.

“No.” he said, shaking his head gently.

“No.” he repeated, firmly. 

I decided it was best not to press any further. As scary as the whole thing was in the moment, I never truly did feel like I was in any danger, from Julio, anyways. That pissed off alien-tree-ice machine-monster would have killed me if it weren’t for him, so I’m indebted to him for that. Though, I’d be lying if I told you that I haven't looked at him a bit differently since that day.
I nodded somberly at him without saying a word before looking back to the flower pot toppled over onto the newly pressed carpet. Inside of it sat the same alien creature Julio had retrieved from the machine and encased in the strange purple goo just moments ago, now noticeably larger and fuller than before. 

“Woah, check it out.” I said, pointing to the wailing entity wriggling aimlessly about the floor. 

“Si.” Julio replied, as he grabbed the potted creature from the ground and plucked it from the clay pot in one fell swoop. 

The creature writhed and shrieked as Julio clasped it, one limb at a time, into the tiny shackles that hung inside the humming ice machine before swinging the door closed with a definitive ‘click’. The machine whirred and buzzed before groaning and falling silent. Julio reached a hand out, placing it firmly on the large metal button that read ‘PRESS FOR ICE’. The machine hissed and sputtered, shaking violently in place as it proceeded to spit out several crystal clear cubes of newly formed ice. 
Julio looked back to me, smiled- his sly little smile- and put an ice cube in his mouth as he waved me goodbye and proceeded to walk off down the hall.

“You can do next one.” he said without looking back.

I knew he was kidding, but it was hard to find funny at the time.
I looked at the ice machine momentarily before noticing Julio's toolbag- still open- on the ground. 

“Hey, Julio, you forgot your-” I said as I looked back down the hallway. Julio was gone. 
“...Of course.” I said, looking precariously at the open bag and goopy flower pot that had been left in the hallway at my feet. 

I thought I would take it down to the front desk for him so he wouldn’t have to make his way all the way back up to the 14th floor later to retrieve it, not that getting around ever seemed like too much of a problem for him before, but I figured it was the least I could do. I grabbed the still oozing pot from the carpet, careful not to touch the mystery goo, and dropped it softly into the open bag. I expected to hear a familiar ‘thudding’ sound when it left my hand- much like the one that had accompanied Julio’s bag when it first met the floor mere minutes ago- but that sound never came. I looked into the bag and… couldn’t see anything. I was as if someone had spraypainted the inside of the bag with the blackest black known to man, as if the darkest depths of the deepest oceans existed within the confines of this tan, denim sack. I stared into it for a second, half expecting something to crawl out of the bag and stare back. Thankfully, nothing did. Instead, I zipped up the bag and tried to lift it onto my feeble shoulders. I failed. The bag wouldn’t budge an inch. It was as if I was trying to lift a freight train onto my back. Even when I tried dragging it along the floor, I couldn't move it a hair. That's when the bag started growling at me... or, something inside it was anyways... maybe... I’m not really sure… I got the hell out of there, quick. Let me tell you, if the trek up those stairs felt like Everest, then the trip down felt like a freefall. My feet probably didn't even touch half those steps on the way down. When I burst from the stairwell covered in sweat and panting, only to see Pierrot standing at the front desk, I knew what was coming. 

“I’m sorry, I was fixing the ice machine on 14 for a patron. Julio and Kieran were busy.” I said defeatedly. 

Pierrot looked up at me, scanning me from head to toe in the process. 

“Very well,” he said. 
“I covered the desk in your absence.” he added, looking back down to the stack of papers he was thumbing through. 

“... Uh… T-Thanks?” I said after a brief hesitation.
As I began walking to take my place at the desk, I felt compelled to ask.

“... No write up?” I said, afraid of what the retort may be. 
His eyes shot back up to mine.

“What? Nonsense.” He said, wafting his hand dismissively through the air.
“You were helping a patron, if anything, you should be commended.” He said bluntly.

In all my time here at The Hotel, this may genuinely have been the most shocking thing to have ever happened to me... for all of about twenty seconds.

“... Wow- Uh- Thanks, I-” I was promptly cut off.

“What is that??” Pierrot questioned, his voice taking on a much more serious tone. 

I followed his eyes down the front of my collared light blue shirt and onto my navy and white pin striped tie. There, no larger than a pencil tip, was a hole. A normal, everyday, run of the mill, hole in the fabric of my garment. I looked back up to him.

“Oh- well, there was this thing in the ice machine that-”
That was as far as I got.

“Write up.” Pierrot growled. 
“Yes, sir.” I said. 

-----

I’ll talk more about the staff,- I got lots of stories about those fellas- but I figured I’d take a minute here to talk about the patrons, some of them at least. I mentioned it before, but we get some normal folks around here. Just your every day, hardworking men and women who didn’t pay enough attention and ended up here when they went looking for a place to rest their heads. Then, there's the regulars- we have quite a few of them. Some rent, some just visit, others just kind of… end up here, I guess. Some of them are just urban legends to me, as in I haven’t seen them in person- yet, anyways- but some of them I see all the time. I’ll tell you about a few of my favorites. My favorite is Gigglesworth, hands down. At first, he really creeped me out, but now, I love hearing his squeaky shoes trudge down the hall. He’s not a creepy guy, unless you don’t like clowns- then he’s probably not your cup of tea- which is why he weirded me out at first. I always hated clowns, so when we first met, and he just sauntered up to me and silently stared me down, I was justifiably unsettled. I think he saw how uncomfortable I was, because he looked very apologetic as he motioned at me. I’m honestly not sure what he was trying to say, but it was pretty clear that he meant no harm... well, to me, at least. He gestured with his hand towards a crooked name tag that was sewn onto his white puffy-collared shirt. ‘Gigglesworth’ it read, in red crayon. I continued to watch as he reached into his side pocket and cartoonishly fished around, sticking his arm inside all the way up past the elbow. When he pulled it out, he held in his hand a long, yellow, deflated balloon. I slowly shifted my eyes from the outstretched balloon to his white and red painted face- a friendly, excited smile greeted me. 

“Uh… O-Okay.” I said nervously.

I had a recurring dream when I was a young boy of getting lost at the circus, only to be found and abducted by the clowns. I don't remember how the dream would end, but it would always scare me so badly. However, as scary as that experience was, no amount of terrifying clown dreams could have prepared me for the nightmare that was about to unfold before me. He jumped and clapped excitedly, stretching the balloon widely in his hands before beginning to pump air into it vigorously. I watched on as he inflated the balloon bigger, and bigger, growing visibly exhausted from the strenuous work. 

“Uh- it’s okay- you don’t have to-” I said.

He raised a hand to me as if to say ’I insist’ and continued pumping away at the rapidly growing balloon, slowly but surely obstructing my vision as he built a thick, yellow wall between him and I. 

“Hey, that’s getting really full.” I said, concern growing. 

Again, I was waved off. A few more pumps were initiated before- perhaps predictably- the balloon erupted with a thunderous ‘POP’. The sound, though anticipated, hit my ears like it was a bomb blast at close range. The shockwave rippled my clothing, nearly throwing me from my feet as the reverberation rang through my whole body. The force alone was enough to discombobulate me, but the sound nearly blew out my eardrums. It threw off my equilibrium and left me with a pronounced ringing in my ears for the rest of the day. 

“FUCKING HELL!” I exclaimed at the top of my lungs, unsure of how loud I was truly speaking. 

“GIGGLESWORTH, WHAT THE HELL!!” I said angrily. 

When the smoke cleared, Gigglesworth was gone- or at least that’s what I thought. As I looked around the room for traces of the determined clown, I found nothing, at first, anyways. It was when I scanned the floor that I found him. He was laid out; on his back, missing his arms, giant gaping hole -still smoking- in the center of what would have been his chest thirty seconds ago. His face, blackened, scorched, looked more reminiscent of a smashed pumpkin than any once living being. His eyes peeked slightly out of his caved in skull, a craterous void now taking the place of his large red nose. I looked down on the charred remains of the deceased clown smoldering in a heap at my feet. As I did, I was overcome with a wave of raw emotion, a feeling I had yet to feel in this place- joy. Pure, unbridled, unfiltered, joy. As the feeling continued to invade my senses, I couldn’t help it and it overtook me. I laughed. I laughed harder than I’ve ever laughed before. I laughed until I cried. Even after I stopped, one further look at Gigglesworth, lying motionless on the floor in a bloody heap, was enough to send me into a raucous laughter. Eventually, I managed to stop and call Kieran down to clean up, but before he could make it down to the lobby, Gigglesworth began violently seizing before turning into a pile of viscous, black goo and seeping into the floor. Of course, before that happened, Pierrot came down and wrote me up, something about ‘killing the regulars’. I don’t know, I wasn’t about to argue with him about it, but even that couldn’t ruin my good mood. I thought that was the end of it, I mean, how many clowns have you seen kill themselves more than once? My answer is one. About a week later, I heard a commotion coming from the Banquet Hall in the East Wing. Naturally, I go to check it out, and see a large gathering of about 20-30 kids, all probably between 6 and 8 years old. We don’t get a ton of kids around here, so of course, I was taken aback, and decided just to watch and see what was transpiring from a safe distance- you can NEVER be too safe around here. I watched for a few seconds, when suddenly I heard a familiar noise. A squeaking slowly making its way down the hall. A moment later, I see Gigglesworth pop out from around the corner and wave eagerly at the children. A sea of loud cheers pours from the banquet hall as I begin making my way closer. As I crept closer, I watched and saw Gigglesworth performing a very familiar act, starting with a cartoonish flourish of a balloon from his side pocket. 

“Uh-oh.” I whispered to myself. 

I knew right then and there that I should go into the room and put a stop to the show before it got out of hand, after all, there’s a chance - no matter how slim- that these are just regular kids, and the last thing The Hotel needs is a lawsuit from 30 angry parents. I highly doubt we have legal protection in the event of exploding clowns traumatizing children... though, if any place did, it would be this one. Against my greater judgement- and likely some selfish, morbid curiosity- I allowed the show to proceed, only entering the room to get a better view. Then, the moment of truth. Gigglesworth began feverishly pumping air into yet another yellow balloon in an exasperated and over the top fashion. I felt a smile creep onto my face. The moment I awaited, however, never arrived. I watched as he tied off the balloon and continued with his act, a part of the act I had yet to see. I watched with great anticipation as he began bending and twisting the balloon with skillful artistry- the squeaking for helium filled rubber blending into the chorus of screaming children. 

“MAKE A LION!” one kid screamed. 

“NO! A TIGER!” said another.

Monkey, Cow, Bird, Elephant. In the end, it would be the lion that saw creation. Gigglesworth worked meticulously, pushing his exposed tongue to one side of his mouth and he twisted the final touches onto the now completed lion balloon animal. 

“YAAAAAAAAAAY” the crowd of excited children screamed. 

Then another noise drowned out the cheers. It was a roar, a mighty roar. A roar so mighty it could belong to only one creature, the king of the jungle. I whipped my head around frantically, desperately trying to locate the direction in which the sound was emitted. Before long, I realized. As I peered back into the Banquet Hall, I saw Gigglesworth. He was flailing wildly, and looked as if he was screaming, but no sound came out. As I focused my eyes, I saw the tiny yellow beast- the very same one that just moments ago, was crafted by Gigglesworth- bearing down upon him and clamping down onto his neck before shaking him back and forth violently. This, naturally, sends blood and viscera flying all over the room, all over the tables, the chairs, and- of course- all over the children. I stand, motionless, unsure of what to do next. Then, I hear it:

 
“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!!!!!!!!!” the children erupt with cheers.

A smile begins sweeping across my face. I try to fight it, but to no avail. I simply can’t fight the urge to laugh. As I watched on, the children continued to cheer as the life was snuffed from poor Gigglesworth, only stopping when the gathering of children began to slowly descend on him, chanting something in unison before consuming his corpse. See, I told you, that’s why you can never be too careful around here. I can’t even begin to explain to you how or why that all happened, or why I reacted that way to it. It was like the only emotions I was capable of experiencing, in that moment, were ones that stem from joy. I laughed at the death of an innocent person... well, an innocent… thing... until I cried. I enjoyed watching him die. What’s wrong with me? Normally, I would be mortified even at the thought, but as much as I hate to say it… I’d really like to see him perform another trick sometime. 

-----

I’d love to get into more, and soon I will, but I have to run for now. Pierrot just called over the radio needing some help. He’s stuck in a temporal anomaly. I swear, those things are the worst. They make you feel like you’re seeing yourself go insane in slow motion, over and over again… just like temporal anomalies, those things really suck, they make you feel like you're going crazy and there's nothing you can do about it, they're terrible… kinda like temporal anomalies, god, those things are truly awful, it’s like you’re losing your mind and all you can do is watch… speaking of going crazy, that reminds me of temporal anomalies, but that will have to be a story for another day. In the meantime, I have to run, I gotta help Pierrot out of a temporal anomaly, those things suck… maybe I’ll tell you about them sometime.