The Old Goose hotel on the outskirts of York was exactly as Colin Doyle was expecting. It was the kind of place that was long past its heyday but you could still kind of see the glory it once had. It needed a massive refurb job but was still a grand place. His friends were staying in a low budget chain hotel in the city centre, but, being on the last-minute as always, Colin hadn’t been able to get in the same hotel.

As he waited in the queue he heard the couple in front of him talking about how the hotel was supposed to be haunted. Colin smiled to himself. That was probably a rumour invented to lure in the tourists. On the drive through the centre he’d seen a poster for York Ghost Tours. It seemed that hauntings were good for business.

The receptionist gave him a practised smile as she slid his key across the counter and told him he was in room number seven. As he grabbed his case she told him to let her know if there was anything else he needed. He crossed the lobby and went up the stairs. He was halfway up the first flight when he paused. There was someone coming down the narrow wooden staircase towards him. In the gloom he couldn’t make out the figure clearly. The person was shrouded in long shadow. Colin stopped to let them pass, looking up in the dim light of the stairwell. He gasped. He was alone. There was nobody there. How strange. He could have sworn there had been someone coming down the stairs towards him. He shrugged and trudged on up the creaking staircase.

He found room seven and unlocked the thick door. The door opened slowly, dragging on the carpet. Colin smiled, maybe the door of the old place originated in a time before wall-to-wall carpets. The room was as antiquated as the rest of the establishment. With the wooden panelled walls and the ancient cabinet beside the four-poster bed, Colin could imagine Henry VIII settling down for the night with one of his many wives. Despite the lamps glowing, the room was still very dark. He tossed his suitcase on the bed. As he unzipped his case and started to unpack he heard a voice. A whisper, a female voice, called out. A shiver went through him. The voice had said his name. He spun around half expecting to find someone standing beside him, but also knew what he would find. Yet again, having got the distinct sensation that there was somebody with him, he was alone.

His concerns about the strange incidents were distracted by the pinging of his mobile phone. He checked his messages. His friends were in town and waiting for him. He quickly changed his shirt, had a quick squirt of after-shave and hurried out of the room.

As he stepped out into the corridor he spotted a woman up ahead. She had grey hair and was standing with her back to him. The grey cardigan she wore hung loose on her thin shoulders. She was standing completely still. It struck Colin as strange, the way she was just standing there. Normally people in hotel corridors would make their way either to their room, or from it to the exit, or even loiter pacing, waiting for their friends in other rooms. But this woman simply stood there. He walked slowly towards her, not wanting to startle the woman.

‘Are you okay, love?’ He called. ‘Are you lost?’

As he neared he could hear her muttering. She was chunnering to herself. He reached out a hand to her shoulder. She span around to face him. She stared at him with wild eyes.

‘What is it?’ he asked.

‘I am going to kill them. I am going to kill them all.’ she growled in a low voice.

Colin was lost for words. He really did not want to get involved in whatever drama she may or may not be involved in. He just shrugged and quickly side-stepped the poor woman and jogged away down the hall. The woman clearly had issues. He hoped whoever was charged with caring for her came and tended to her.

As he stepped out into the night to go and find his friends, he shook his head and made a conscious effort to put the odd happenings of the hotel to the back of his mind.

He returned to the hotel just before midnight. He was quite drunk, having had a couple more beers than he’d intended. It had been a good night and the food in the Indian restaurant had been wonderful. At the top of the stairs he glanced out the first floor window. He yelled out at what he saw. It was her. She was there. She was outside. Her pale features glared at him from the other side of the glass. Despite the darkness outside the window, her face was lit by a stark, white light. And she seemed to hover outside. This was impossible. There was no way she could be there. He swore and turned away from the window, marching to his room. He fumbled with the key in the lock, before letting himself in the room.

He flicked the lamp on in the room. The second he took in his surroundings he screamed. She was there. The woman grinned at him, her smile sick and twisted. She tilted back her head and laughed.

‘What are you doing in my room? Who are you?’ he asked.

‘They will never find them. They will never find the bodies.’

‘I am going to call somebody. We will get the help you need.’ He managed.

‘I am going to kill them all, and they will never know how I did it.’ she cackled.

She took a step towards him, a look of pride and defiance on her face. Then he noticed her feet. She seemed to be standing a few inches off the floor. It was as though there was a thick glass floor on top of the faded carpet. Was she a ghost? Was he dreaming?

‘What are you?’ He whispered.

‘I will kill them all.’ She screamed. ‘I will shock everyone, just you wait and see!’

Could this be happening? Was he hallucinating? Maybe someone had spiked his drink. There had to be some explanation. She gave a horrid, mocking laugh and then faded slowly away. She disappeared like a clearing mist, becoming thinner and thinner before not being there at all.

Colin dropped to the bed, his heart pounding. What had just happened? He scanned the room, relieved to find he was alone.

Somehow, a while later, he managed to calm down enough and drifted off to sleep.

The night by passed without event. He woke the next morning feeling strangely refreshed. He decided he would check out straight away and try and forget about the bizarre events of the previous night, and the spectre of the old woman. He would leave the hotel and the memory of the woman, behind him.

As he was in the queue of people, waiting to be attended to at the reception desk, he saw a figure standing in the doorway. It was her. This time she appeared to be transparent. She was there and yet not there all at the same time. It was like she was a figure in a photograph that had not developed properly. Then she was gone.

Colin moved away from the queue and went to the door. In the spot where she had been standing there was a plaque on the wall. The writing on the silver plate read:

Horror author Christine Agnes stayed here in 1920 while working on her debut horror novel.

By Chris Platt

From: United Kingdom