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The sound of the scythe blade dragging and bumping along the floorboards echoed down the hall. Horrifying.
It was moving left. Towards 101!
I was about to warn her in the group chat when Ethan’s text popped up:
“Viv, cops are called. But the typhoon’s slowing them down. ETA 30 minutes!”
“HIDE. STAY HIDDEN. BUY TIME!”
Thirty minutes? He’d butchered Mrs. Wilkins in less than five!
Cold sweat trickled down my temple. I stared at the group chat screen, my warning message unsent.
THUD! THUD!
The familiar battering sound came from next door. The girl in 101, who’d been cheering moments before, instantly turned pleading:
“Please! Please, mister! You want money? I have money! All of it! Just don’t hurt me!” Her voice trembled through the wall, even as she frantically typed:
“@Owner Davies GET HERE! He’s at MY DOOR!”
“@Room103 GET OUT HERE! There’s two of us! We can take him!”
Her words were ludicrous. Go out there? Was she insane? With my slim build, what chance did I have against a killer who enjoyed torture?!
I bit my lip, deciding to follow my boyfriend’s advice: play dead, buy time.
Room 102: “What the hell’s going on? Serial killer?”
Room 102: “@Room103 What did you see?”
Room 102: “@Room101 What’s your problem? What’s all the yelling?”
Room 102? I frowned. Who was 102? And how could he not have heard all the noise earlier?
I remembered 102—a fitness fanatic. When I saw him checking in earlier, he wasn’t carrying luggage; he had a bag full of dumbbells.
With those muscles, he might actually stand a chance against the killer.
Just then, another message came from 101:
“@Room102 SERIAL KILLER! SMASHING MY DOOR! HELP!”
Room 102: “???”
Room 102: “A killer? I was just taking a shower—are you guys LARPing out there?”
Room 101: “I’m NOT joking! He killed the old bat in 104! He’s HERE! Smashing my door! LOOK OUT YOUR PEEPHOLE!”
102 went silent. Probably checking. 102 was directly opposite 101. With 104’s door open and light spilling out, he should have a clear view.
Room 101: “You SEE? COME ON! HELP ME! He’s a psycho! If I die, you’re next!”
Room 101: “@Room102 @Room103 WE FIGHT HIM! TOGETHER!”
She was desperate, messages flooding in. I hesitantly gripped my door handle, but let go the next second. What could I fight him with? A tiny side table? Stupid. Barricading and hiding was still my best shot.
Room 102: “Alright! On my count. I open my door. You open yours. If he turns to face me, you smash his head from behind. If he keeps facing you, I brain him with a dumbbell!”
Room 101: “Deal! I’ve got a baseball bat. I’ll use that!”
Room 102: “Good!”
Room 102: “Ten seconds. Open on zero.”
Room 101: “YES!”
Ten… nine… eight…
I stared at the screen, holding my breath. 102’s plan sounded plausible. Even a killer might falter against two people?
Five… four… three…
Should I help? I glanced at the small table. Solid wood. A good swing to the head… might stun him?
Two… one…
A single door opened down the hall.
