Watch the original version of Four Rooms
Ted Martel has been out of work for several months. He had sent dozens of applications and wandered around the city, but nothing had worked out. As a last resort, he turned to the hotel industry. He submitted his application to various hostels, resorts, and major penthouse suites. Finally, he got a call from “Fantasy Suites LLC,” and they offered him the job he had been waiting for.
The business call woke Ted up from what felt like the groggy sleep of a lifetime. Jumping out of bed, grasping for his cell phone still ringing on the countertop of his sparsely stocked apartment above a pizzeria, he finally got his groove together after three unsuccessful flails, answering the call before it could conclude its final ring tone.
After changing his clothes – a black tuxedo and red bow-tie – he arrived at the hotel fifteen minutes before he was scheduled. This was his moment. The fancy boutique of the ‘Fabulous Vacancy Square’ oozed hot muggy atmosphere from peak lamp lights, giving the antique furnishings on polished marble hallways an intensified golden color.
Chapter 1: The Arrival
Fantasy Suites is a renowned hotel known for completing a flash makeover quite regularly. It was a different proposition now. Although the scenery from the outside of the hotel was changeless, the life inside had undergone a drastic change.
Ted’s heart raced wildly as he walked through the hall on a special dedicated luggage booth, the black of the bow-tie swishing, and silk shine illuminating the flurry the young girl offered to greet him. It was new entrée two hours post-midnight. ‘Why would anyone book a check-in such bizarre activity, drunk – he supposed.’
The foyer shop in front of the velvet gilt elevators that could carry at most 3 adults missed pieces from chandeliers, rugs being crumpled up and retied, and above all, order. As he walked, his minka knocked into a life-sized statue of a slave owner, causing it to wobble, skewing precariously…and then crash to the ground, breaking into miniature pieces.
Frozen on the spot, Ted did not know what to do. He had failed miserably already. But, knock ever so kindly at that hour, and returning momentum and movement way back, he could not uphold behavior; he fought the urge to yell in shock or hype. Keeping a stiff-lid, ‘if he can still function straight-sight well-mannered for just a little extra per hour in this hotel, any business pays its work without unjust finance debates, right?’
The blinking red S greeted him; pressing triumphantly over, a heated beep rang four times, and he dove and propelled as automated gate wings slid shut like upside cane lips.
The atmosphere from school lessons reminded Ted of conducting rescue efforts in simulated settings., equipped with a knowledge base of capabilities, yet never necessary to be initiated, to actual need to collaborate and excel for team assignments in abnormal situations strangers cocreated. This was what that excitation and eviscerated anxiety was. Ted pulled out walkie-talkie from his jacket, taking careful steps outside Room One. Few sleep clouds with debris pots hidden under beds gave subtle knowledge that the occupant had once played PS5.
Ted said, ‘Hey, room service coming in. please hide away the trees.’
A series of shaky yelps and coughs came back after a second, sending murmur waves down the hollow steel stairs. He hung up his walkie-talkie, palm-pressed a big smile and tiptoed into the wild.
Chapter 2: The Mischievous Card players
Ted stumbled back to the hotel lobby to catch his breath after a tumultuous shake-down with the loud and boisterous guests in the previous room. He barely had time to calm his frayed nerves before he heard raucous laughter coming from behind one of the doors. He grabbed his notepad and hurried down the hall to the source of the noise.
He opened the door to the sound of the guests’ continuing laughter. They were of different ages, but each wearing a unique, kooky outfit resulting in Ted stood frozen in the doorway for a moment. Josh, who was sitting in the room’s armchair, called out to Ted to come in.
“Take a seat, Bellhop! You’re just in time for a national emergency!” Josh shouted across the small room.
The others kind of snickered to themselves, and Ted began to feel like he was embroiled in an even more challenging scenario. Nonetheless, he approached them hesitantly, and sat on the foreground sofa, thinking of what could possibly go wrong now.
The room’s walls were described as decaying, imagining reddish-brown small tear ravage buildings as asbestos hangs right at your nose. Given only the minimal illumination coming from the light of the four guests’ collective god-knows-where attire, the scene appeared to be somewhat hazy yet somber one.
Ted opened his memo pad warily then confirmed how can he be of assistance. Josh’s muscular sidekick tapped Jonathan’s shoulder and pointed at him while he was vigorously dealing the cards.
“We run an exclusive underground establishment,” Josh explained. One of the characters, a ginger bearded dude said mockingly, “Underneath ten tons of horse manure in some desert, you guys house a casino. Bet Maddox’s girlfriend should feel pretty bad with these tournaments,” referring to the professional poker players, James Maddox and Aolanie Wendt, as Ted subsequently must handle the grunt work by serving carbonated drinks.
As the deal-off ended with an uproar, Ted proceeded up to strike up memorable and light conversation with the newly-formed regulars who happen to blew a handsome sum of tip to gain an assist in their game, hoping that the experience will net him better tips.
It took Ted around 30 minutes to inquire about the player’s respective twists and identify hobbies but he recognized that he was bonding sincerely with them as they struggled to baffle him with shared hilarity and mischief.
Snake flirted his eyes in direction of Jonathan as Ted registered with great confusion that how can a truly innocent man grow such a ruthless business besides lending Satan to lighten up your Saturday evening occasionally.
“One final improvement before the pot doubles, Bellhop,” Jonathan stated, grinning at Ted,” I will let it slide for a split second, and trying to hustle another run as Jake pants like an overly eager dog every time he thinks about free Wi-Fi. Seem compatible to you, lad?
A light of inspiration glowed in Jake’s eyes, and in exchange for complimentary Wi-Fi code, he should bring Del to make it home with “8 or Better” pair winning his guaranteed cut, with the approval of the ultimate pro, himself. A brief nod consented from Ted’s side, uncertain who the latter was, but it brings such delight and joy so no harm in letting a certain request go as the society commodifying Wi-Fi more than anything else.
Ted catered to the needs of the guests, according to his natural qualities, but to his horror found himself slowly being lured into the world of those he served upon. Eyes still popping up, thrilled with every bet made, Ted hyper-focused himself in the game realizing how rare nights like these occur for him without consequences, but someday a fire under hectic circumstances awaited too badly.
Chapter 3: The Mutt and the Millionaire
Ted rubbed his eyes, feeling the exhaustion settling deep into his bones. The last thing he needed now was to deal with another strange request from the hotel’s eccentric guests—who knew what weirdness the night would bring. However, all he could do was grin and bear it—the bellhop’s creed.
When Ted got to the next room on his list, he noticed it had double the count of the apprised occupancy written on his check-in log. Keeping calm, knowing not that it was a table turned robbery-gradation’s stir cooking up in one of the rooms involving an illicit trade, he straightened upright and knocked on the door.
“Uh… Hi, I’m from hotel services. We received a call for…“ Ted’s voice trailed off, cast a shy look upon a towel-wrapped neatly sized Manchinzi Haramzada – reputably can buy boats for breakfast – in the bathroom, made his lips twitch in disgust, and threw him off a bit.
A bespectacled, mustached middle-aged man in a suit, with a seemingly flushed face and an overbearingly unpleasant scowl on his face stormed to the door, pulled down his bushy brows in confusion, recognizing Ted wasn’t what he wanted.
“I… didn’t call for housekeeping,” the pudgy man spat between his lips, particularly the thick mustache under his nose, drenched in a spray of displeased leftovers, followed by a wheezed cough.
“Okay,” Ted offered, albeit looking rather baffled by the smell reverberating down his air vessels. He checked his list again before looking up: “We got a request for towels and more toiletries for your room specifically on this number.”
It wasn’t hard to charm anyone who stifled chokes out of the jolly atmosphere of a stay, so Ted raised the bag of toiletries he held in one hand to help against the unbearable stench. With that loosed a brief smile, hoping the gentleman from the other end would bet and lay it back off as being forgetful while omitting the task at hand he placed his other hand on the side ready to leave.
Yet suddenly the pudgy man, probably sickened by the stench hovering around the air, lurched away covering his face mimicking some frantic moves into the other room, albeit a bit too dramatically Ted thought, His frivolous notions turned into a rising horror when he heard ear-splitting squeals outnumber even the horn of chaos, resonance from the next room.
Ted took a step back, bewildered at the situation; it wasn’t until the man’s brown dog, the cause of the ear-splitting chaos, bolted into the hall and straight at him that it dawned on him what had happened.
He could already hear the frantic yowlers coming out of the next room. It was a major accident possibility, his first task now; restraining the mutt! Screaming over the distraught canine, Ted lunged after it, one arm extended while holding the toiletries away from his hands’ sure paw knowing they’re mostly poison. They must be deceptively delicious to the pup’s nose to quickly create its jumping at him.
Falling, barrels of wet fizz squirted out of every end accompanied with a susurrating glass-smacking sound, which anyone would feel must be deafening from danger; Ted recoiled them back to protect himself from the jaws of the unupholsterable barker. Ted found himself on his back rolling and tumbling, twin bottles, and a plastic razor assaulting him crick-cross overhead plummeting down to the lightly embodied music of rippling waves from the shattered hues.
Just between the racket resulting from porous scything ledges, clinking billets rolled haphazardly down the corner and fell before adding a disarrayed state. A vibrant shower graced the air as fresh reeking perfume inners flowed packed in small containments shattered to tiny flakes clicking against its blades, made its way amiss; now no more differentiated from the sudden blast of goo-like lubricant blending in handy drain sorrows.
These guests jumped hops while having more fun that the whole place’s customers encountered every time. Ted recoiled in reflex anticipation hoping someone would steer the guests away.
Chapter 4: The Missing Ingredient
Ted had survived an evening full of madness and absurdity, but he was not quite done yet. His next task was to ensure that the night’s bellboy intake for the hotel was a success. Ted had been given one crucial task by his supervisor—that is, to retrieve a key ingredient that was supposed to help keep the old-school charisma of the establishment, a secret ingredient from the days when the hotel was super popular.
Ted knew the night could go wrong if this substance didn’t end up in the hands of its intended recipient. He was called to travel to another hotel brimming with tourists and extract it confidently, after much digging to locate the person holding the ideal segment in negotiations throughout Miami Beach. With the final exchange edging closer, Ted patted himself mentally, steeling himself for what was about to come.
He started the rented car at ten and made it to the other hotel by half past. It was located between two large condominiums reaching sky high with restaurant moon lighting— an altogether well-lit block. The furious rattling of trees that swung along the sides of this gigantic structure twitching their hair unprompted by gust meant for a deadly silent passage, Ted noticed.
It felt like the building was waiting for him, its shadow growing as if feeding on the trees, aiming to discharge an atmosphere calamitously filled beyond its threshold through every tightly hung metal line, making gasping vacuums and claustrophobic introspections ricochet in the scorching heat simmering outside. Further, Ted could make out the symphony of distorted screams, giggles half-audible out entrancing to solely rev the feet at the entry of the luxurious hotel.
Ted had never before entered a hotel that resembled a reverse cascade. Its moss-green unremarkable sign showcased nothing, bearing no name only matching tiles with neon edging instead. Entering the lobby involved noting a half-circle stair leading out of a flat hall gurgling out twisting gasps, beyond which buzzing electronic gates controlled entry between loungers, lounging halls and basement casinos.
Finalizing the material he was in search of highlighted how wrongly judged were his probabilities. Assuming he would get home early and refreshingly enjoy the night he seemed to have enlightened for himself ending in his loss hour at the hotel. Ted almost blew a fuse waiting, 10 minutes to the meeting getting swelled up to enduring 30 even getting through to lay his hands on one crude metal no one might miss. Ted knew time was the reality he didn’t have, with busboys grumbling about cleaning stations being drowned in steel balls and random guests referring to the menu card that had never existed thus beginning reasonable chortles seating outside dinner rooms, the backdrop sounded anything but Melodic.
The target individual walking over to Ted, grasping professionally what looked almost like a chalk bag from which Ted wouldn’t have witnessed anywhere else, gestured in his overly magnetic brogue, “I see you’re late lad.”, nodded negatively muttering congruously half a smile, “Yeah, sorry mate. You got it?” And during the trade of the raw-metal jar and not believing what’s next, asked drowsily, “You seem to be tickin’ still. You got cheetahs in your blood.” He chuckles pounding Ted’s upper arm before lifting crisp cash accepting his commodities. Rushing back to valet parking fearing who will perish in hot carbon combustion sooner, the darkness exceeding the already reflected twenty-two degrees time Ted floored it to the hotel parking.
There was barely anyone in the lodge lobby, twilight bearing heavy curtains that seeped scent engassed from craft cocktails heightening the vibes one could experience only in party storms. Ted lifts an eyebrow in surprise and wheels himself closer to information being quickly filled in by another male staffer. Soon gratitude wrappedly ended for Ted as timely notifications helped move the awaited material with swiftness to its end-target whereabouts without movement that precedes discomfort.
Before he’d resignedly trekked to relative slumber upstairs, steadying himself by the ballroom clock that glimchers his apron sufficiently to adjust his watchting, Ted momentarily pondered on the ideal material, what made it so hard to get a hold of, despite being commonplace everywhere else. Fearful of the consequences stemming from losing possibly the most precious commodity, he stored it in a small bottle and gave a genuine smile as he deposited the ingredient.
Ted couldn’t deny it anymore; this had been the most bizarre hotel job ever in Miami Beach or should he hope ever for the rest of his life, fighting with time and exhaustive with sensory overload and nonsensical delegation.
All he could remember thinking as he rode the elevator back up to the rooms that he couldn’t have been happier to see it all coming to a end.
Chapter 5: Guests to Remember
The door of Room 404 creaked open to reveal three figures standing inside. Ted sighed, resigning himself to the fact that this just wasn’t going to be his night.
“I say, my good man,” began the first of the guests, a portly Englishman with an air of superiority about him. “We’ll need that table moved over there, please.”
Ted nodded obediently and set to work, hefting the heavy table across the room as the two other guests, a haughty-looking actress draped in furs and a rugged outdoorsman with a bushy beard, made themselves comfortable in chairs around it.
But just as Ted was about to leave the suite, the Englishman stopped him once again.
“I almost forgot,” he said, rummaging through his luggage to produce a small black box. “This is for you.”
Ted took the box and pulled off the lid to reveal a shiny silver pocket watch. He gasped in surprise, never before having received a gift from one of the hotel’s guests.
“Thank you, sir,” he stammered, unable to keep the smile from spreading across his face.
As the trio settled in to play a game of cards, Ted retreated to the hallway to fetch the room service orders of the hotel’s other guests. He took extra care to ensure that every dish was presented just so, delivering them with a flourish and a smile that belied the underlying stress he felt.
Upon reaching Room 303, Ted was struck by the strange sight that awaited him inside. The door had opened to reveal a small hoard of people, all dressed in striking and outlandish costumes, lounging about the room as if it were their own private playground. There was a pirate wielding a gleaming saber, a woman dressed as a pumpkin, and a gentleman with an enormous walrus mustache who seemed a bit lost amid the chaos.
“Hello, hello!” a peppy voice greeted him from the vicinity of the bed. “You must be our waiter!”
It was a young woman in a tutu, twisting and twirling as if caught up in her own little world.
Ted cleared his throat, trying not to stare too hard. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve brought your dinner.”
Little else about this room service transaction went according to plan- Ted understood very little of the guests’ howls and over-the-top gestures, leaving him torn between laughing and shaking his head in confusion. But there were no mishaps, and in the end, the odd assembly of people seemed fairly satisfied with their meal.
After a full re-stocking of the room service cart, Ted pushed it down the hallway toward the placid whispers filtering from Room 309. This night had been absurd and challenging, but being called upon to complement various acts wasn’t part of those challenges. He continued pushing trolley closer to the room, sliding to his left something caught the corner of his eye.
There, under the stare of a disgusting porcine mask, Mick, the looming anthropomorphic mascot of the hotel, leered at him, surprise and horror exploding from his hard-boiled naïveté when their eyes met.
Without thinking, Ted let out a scream that echoed down the empty corridor.
The noise resulted in all four guests from Room 404 barreling out of their door this time- at least, Ted guessed that it was Room 404- and, tediously, another 30 or so guests spilling out from all directions- some with hotel-face towels draping over parts of their body, others in matching bowling outfits unexpectedly joined in, forming a giggling wall of questions that must have set seismic instruments trembling.
“What on earth, man?” the Englishman demanded of Ted. “Did you have a bit of a tit-for-tat with something?”
As hundreds of gawking eyes followed up, Bill and Sam the Marauder, who Ted had befriended fifty earlier that night, sauntered over with Reggie, who’d somehow cobbled together some kind of strange electronic device. Though no one wanted to touch anything from Reggie’s deep pockets, Bill confidently switched it out to reveal the detritus heaps led by fouled letters summoned directly by someone gone mad in half of South Hambleton. And there, solidified at the bottom of the mound, was Ted’s pocket watch.
“Oh no,” breathed Ted, stumbling backward. “It can’t be.”Taking long steps without thinking, he raced along the view when their reviled mascot still rose and tinkered with some kind of flashing gear. Without precedence, another tremor appeared, and everything besides a group of confused guests rattled and rocked like a helix undergoing failure in reverse.
Ted felt his pocket watch trembling on his chest, almost as if panicked, he springs into athleticism no one on this insensible night had seen before. First, he raced back toward Room 303 before breaking right at Room 305, seeing the shaking mannequin through the blur of his ride. A translucent sweat covered every fraction of offensively-explosive human energy that he could bring to his nerves by that seemingly pressing moment.he manages to stop the dog from taking the innocuous appearance of what only seems to be that which could have turned disastrous for his precious timepiece.
“Whew,”said Ted, swirling around to smile eerily at the dog.
“Woof!” Answered Rufus the delighted demeanor of dogs as Ted plans to reach back to Horrible room 404 to discover who exactly had a bone to pick with him. No more fear to deep down my heart. Ted Stated.Definitely much happier with being somewhere else than back in that swamped premise.
Chapter 6: The Witching Hour
The bone-chilling squeak of the lift indicated the arrival of the new guest. As Ted took a deep breath and moved towards the lift, he saw that the doors had not opened properly. The ever-so-helpful bellboy instinctively navigated the intricacies of the machinery and managed to get the lift to open. He chuckled when he saw that the guest was a young, attractive woman holding a black cat in her arms.
“Need any assistance?” he asked.
“No thanks, I’ve managed this far” she smiled, as she handed the cat over to Ted.
“What’s his name?”
Ted caught glimpses of her yellow-strength nails as she reached for her clipboard, which was adorned with a purple velvet cover. “Kitty” she replied.
The young lady’s focus remained intensely on her papers, and as the doors opened to the dimly lit floor, Ted stepped outside, wondering how an assistant in leather and black clothing could seem so out of place.
The layout of the hotel’s sixth floor formed a stacked pentagon configuration, with corridors stretching like the spikticular fingers. Dozens of itty-bitty rooms resulted in varying sizes and shapes of corridors, with bed frames and hotel furnishings jammed in every twist and turn.
Ted had arrived on the long finger as it had the most suites whose elevators were conveniently somewhere over yonder. When they arrived at the door, however, something seemed strange, and his efforts to open the door failed.
“Um, could you give me a sec,” he protested while applying force to push the sturdy wood. The assistant, still keen on her list, paid him little attention. There was a smirk on her lipstick-cladded lips; the shade was almost similar to the lush carmine hibiscus outside the hotel.
Awaiting word from someone as to when to enter the guest room, Ted regarded Kitty, a black stray that was now sweetly shuttling between his arms. Despite their instant bond, Ted could feel an unease slivering through him like a snake. He couldn’t shake off the feeling that something wrong was bound to happen.
Just as he was feeling more flustered than he should, the assistant girl nodded, thus making it okay for Ted to begin with offering their service. When he turned his attention back onto the kitty in his arms, he was taken aback to discover that the shiny black kitty had disappeared – or from the looks of it gone through the locking bars. Ted’s heart was studded with unexplained worries as he recognized the danger that lurked before the black cat, recalling what a superstitious getaway this was for others.
It was already the witching hour on the sixth floor, and Ted wrapped around him his shivering Bellhop outfit, and with Kitty in mind, he devoured by a sinking horrid feeling. Was he going to run into some unfathomable, dark force?
From the surrounding bricks of the room, a haunting soft dreadful laughter echoed around him. By instinct, curiosity hijacks his actions, and holding onto the bouquet of unfolding danger, yet barely in control; he put a blanket over his head, and determining that he had to go into the guest suite to get to the bottle of champagne to deliver, he moved forward walking on tiptoes, trying not to make the slightest of sounds.
What disasters was this young rookie setting himself up for, as he hardly suspected what would grasp him as soon as he crossed that threshold?
Chapter 7: Life and Death
Ted froze in the doorway, his legs refusing to carry him through the tense and dramatically-different-from-before atmosphere. It was nearly midnight, and the night of horrors was finally wearing down Ted, yet it dished out one final freak show. It all began straightforwardly enough: a knock at the door.
Cautiously, Ted sidled up to the door, peering through the peephole even though the caller had already announced themselves. A ghost from the past stood on the threshold, looking hateful yet relieved, anxious yet determined. It was Anna.
“Good evening, Ted,” she said. “May I come in?”
The name poured out of her lips like a reverse siphon syllable vine pouring itself into his being. To many, it was an ordinary utterance, but for Anna– she couldn’t shake it. The boundary between employee and patron felt no different from misaligned voltage poles to her. The rubbernecks weaselled in various furnitures sensed the abnormality, picking at the most likely sumptuous bits they could reach of Anna’s accompanying stance, hair, skin, and emerald-green outfit.
He certainly wasn’t expecting this sort of turnaround, but he swallowed hard and stepped aside, letting her through. Anna was the only daughter of the hotel’s eccentric yet wealthy owner. She had been Ted’s first crush back when he had been a part-time handyman. It wasn’t until a month in he tanked their budding relationship by accidentally re-routing the whole of the original system while looking for a power generator causing a tremendous and preposterous explosion that snared Anna in. Ted saw her, glowed hot with shame, but managed just one gesture- the gift of life.
Now, five years on, Anna entered Hotel Miramar once again, and her presence spelled disaster. Ted’s head hurt- was that something hot-silver being drawn across butterfly-wings metaphors were to form within subconscious and out- blunting outright killer’s instinct he had magnanimously, it was at full claque density.
The first thing he realized was how physically stunning she still was, the same voluptuous long brown hair, icy blue eyes and that full pouting lips that could send him into a spiral of ecstasy. The allure spread throughout the hotel lobby. Then once the shock died down and the thrill of seeing her again wore off, Ted immediately began to dissect words from guest behaviour, bed sheets, shower heads, soap dispensers; instinct tingling with dormant anticipation.
“I am here on a very personal matter,” Anna said, clasping her purse tightly “I’m not here to test out sheets or experience room service, Ted. I need your help. You’re the only person who can.”
Ted had always been good with fixing things, from burst pipes in the basement on to solving strange guest requests – this particular average jobs always drilled his OCD nature to cusp however wicked, benign, funny or strange. Ted continuously thought that he’d seen and fixed all kinds of weirder-than-fiction scenarios, yet Anna managed to raise the bar so high.
“Please, I need you to help me find someone,” Anna said, pressing further. “It’s a matter of life and death.”
Ted settled into the resolve he found greeting errant misbehaviour, collecting account data, and never bluffing a painkiller trip to the janitorial. The ideas he put up plunged and spiralled deep into mess, and worth wishing them to dissolve into cruel logic were no longer within grasp. Ted wouldn’t have to get to grips with all the various bits of human psyche which will come into play as Anna gives him more information about what’s happening.
Suddenly the front doors of the hotel swung open, interrupting whatever ast?ounded down towards which Ted would follow next with Anna.
Two massive bodies stepped inside, cutting imposing silhouettes against the night. They wore matching suits and their faces seemed carved out of rock. Their entryway and almost mark-timing was twice cued by Ted, more time to circumspect Anna to test her veracity amidst other suspicious conduct.
Ted’s pulse picked up speed with each passing second as the two suited brutes marched directly toward him with purpose.
One of the two men took off his sunglasses— revealing the slick and cold gaze underneath to investigate Ted’s bleak demeanor through and through. He pulled out an antique pocket watch and opened it.
“You’re late, Bellhop.”
“I-I–” Ted stammered, instinct telling him it was best to play along until he could figure out what was going on.
“Get us somewhere private,” the man barked imperiously.
Ted wracked his brain, recalling a spare room toward the back of the building. He led them there and waited expectantly, barely able to breathe as though time itself had decided to trim the act entirely. Arikiwa had a reared creature walking about the nose wiping away the imprint: dust downed all corners, spores reached narrow seam of hexapod terminals ceiling partition. However, animalistically clean Ted’s rehearsed tense neutrality kept him sharp as the mounting avalanche only escalated with its intensity devoid of his notice.
When the two men swept past him into the room, Ted made a hasty escape of his own, conscious not to upset his precarious guests out of the innate inability to curl into an asbestos mount ready for every insanity.
Through a small opening Ted noticed that the unknown holders of the hotel’s soft blankets smashed anything they found in an investigatory and insensitively approximate omissible manner with the scent of meticulousness. However, on scanning their more magnetic bursts of action, Ted discovered it delved deeper than plainly destructive nature when one of the savages is snapped impassively twining fragile beads that formed an exotic necklace staring covertly through Ted.
“I apologize,” Anna said faintly as she tailed close: “I had no idea… I’ll just be…!” yet she had tried to disappear outside but was caught and pulled back by a security guard arriving: Anna squirmed evidently panicking, adjusting the grip tightening on crumpective H.O log book related to deeper pages while hiccuping uncomfortably under their glare.
“I’m going to ask you to remain quiet for the moment,” the large man ordered, dragging a table in front of the closet separating Anna from the staff break room. “It seems we’ve got a bit of cleanup to handle before we proceed.”
Ted could scarcely imagine what was happening on the other side of the wall, but one disturbing idea rolled to another once further soiling parts of room started to happen accordingly. His hands shook as they clasped the edge of the desk next to the computer display clamped fast in hotel jail/crisis management tumbled spready acacia sense trapped indelicately meek around his insides.
Minutes passed as Anna and Ted waited in silence, with only the sickening sound of bones breaking on a hard surface filtering through the soundproof space between them.
“Alright,” the man finally said. “Let’s talk.”
The air pressure after the fragirealise: scenting the uncertain, the splitting of grief choked brutes led to specific declarations, Anna had made a forced extraction favour past unusual throbbing muscular migration: how transient was mortality to make one sweat against the planned ransom of life. They had snatched Anna’s mother away- who happened to be the beloved hotel grand tycoon- from her office as leverage somehow or ransom. He didn’t know that, but tears cooked under k-life or two o’clock noise long since overlooked.
Panicked and confused, Ted tried to think, coherent and rational thoughts pouring through his brain seemingly punched in slow motion like during glacial epochs – this was bad, this hotel formerly a dive-bar though comporting previously-corporate psycho-killer apparently took reality in movies seriously enough that professional SWAT teams would face a challenge analogous to expecting hounds hauling themselves along with the dogs as the former preceded before the various supernatural entities mixed in with patrons paying from a dollar to con which was fine by the FBI. Save his astuteness which at the moment couldn’t ignore to read incongruous locución the signals dared to produce lest terrible incidents dotting along wouldn’t jab what survived proper resorting outcome.
And so that was how Ted, who had never engaged in anything remotely close to extreme the bargain, ended up having to talk down a bloodthirsty criminal, a task which under normal circumstances he could scarcely even begin to contemplate. “I might be able to help,” he heard himself saying, unsure where this new confidence came from acting in opposition but afraid seizing time latter only available by horror dreams causing brain mash spinning hard space wider equally not fainting.
“So, you’ll help us get what we want and in exchange, your boss’ daughter is safely returned to you unharmed,” the thuggish man declared definitively.
“Exactly,” Ted agreed, his only option atm, motivating anticipation boldness as he padded alongside crude unfathomable calm disguising he felt overpowered to comply or face near-extinction of identity not even he knew nor did anyone closely anticipate.
Ted spent the better part of an hour going over what steps he needed to take under Anna’s superior guidance locking everything only accessible through her entry remotely whose safety measures were meant to keep things thief-proof more than avoid life.
In the end, everything carefully prepared, and with the knowledge that his own safety stayed only for a limited amount of time, Ted could only hope that he would emerge from this in one piece. Tonight was bound to end, and with its morning break a completely new dawn would ensue reminiscently overviews reduplicated. Ted was tired and worn out; he felt like he had already lived a lifetime in this night. But h e still had a few remaining have to watch closely, made to join the hunt circus hijinks before ringing footsteps click out of hallway range, feeling dry mouth desert breath.
Chapter 8: The Epilogue – As Ted sees the last guests out and goes to close up for the night, questioning how he survived the craziest first day on the job ever. This will be a night most indie hotel workers could never withstand.
Ted collapsed in the chair at reception. Running a hand over his face and through his damp hair he tried to slow his rapid breathing. It had been a long night, one filled with more chaos than anyone would expect in a lifetime, let alone a single shift. Who knew the Hundred Life Hotel would bring so much madness? In that one night, he had dodged irate misfit millionaire guests, wrangled troublesome mutts and taunted wrestlers, licked feet, made drinks vile and he had met a witch in distress on of all nights, the Hallow’s Eve. It was immense; every encounter provided Ted with wonder, but they also caused him to fear what could happen if he kept working at the hotel.
Most might be thankful to merely walk away after the trial of a lifetime, a sentiment based in gratitude they had escaped not realising that such luck never comes twice. Ted was the exception to the rule, deliberately deciding there would be no discussion or proposal for a job that was immersive during shifts of hotel stunts again–and he’d driven back home with a mere smell of somebody else’s fog of lauding reference.
As he reached up for his cap hanging off the peg and headed towards the exit, a young desk attendant came running to meet him.
“Uh, can I help you?”
“Keys,” Ted sputtered. “Went like a week without reading so much literature before.”
The youth flinched at Ted’s presentation, cowers under his leather jacket and denim jeans like any new job jitters. Trying not to make a scene, he returned the keys with a clenched sweating hand, nervous about giving offense or risking the safety of anyone around him.
Ted smiled, “Don’t worry. This was one for the books. Stay away from Rat bags like a plague, just a hot tip friend…” he trailed and taking one last look, opened the door, which hit some trailing pieces of paper conspicuously pasted on the back; they flipped the signs over fixing the Hotel sign to Red, before walking out into the early light on an early November morning.
He wasn’t sure what the day had in store for him, but he was relieved to have survived the craziest night of his life. He decided that the hundred life hotel was a place he would not wish to visit, let alone be hosted on shift, for a long long time. Ted slipped down his cap and jogged off into another beautifully bleak, brand-new LA evening.
Some scenes from the AI movie Four Rooms
Title: Four Rooms
INT. HOTEL LOBBY – NIGHT
TED, a young and nervous Bellhop dressed in a fancy beige uniform, stands at the front-desk twirling his pen nervously between his fingers. The hotel lobby is frayed, cracked and faded over time. Classic rock is blaring on an old-fashioned cassette player sitting on the counter.
It’s my first night on the job, and I have been warned repeatedly by my predecessor of how outrageous the guests can be.
The phone rings, making Ted jump.
(startled, then answering)
Good evening, Four Rooms.
The camera cuts to close up Ted’s face where he looks horrified.
I have four floors to service, each with its own world, its own door stories waiting to go up.
INT. MARTINI ROOM – SMALL DARSH FORMAL GET TOGETHER.
Ted makes his way inside the room. The room is dimly lit, smoke of cigar smoke fills the air. Ted starts to fidget here and there to adjust the curtains in nervousness noting; DOARC being seated on the main table munching on finely sliced Iberian Ham on a very thin crispy toast canapé, he observes Claude being handcuffed to glass bedpost by sexy Madonna.
(to himself, murmuring)
“What kind of hotel is this?”
Just then, a balding man in his mid-50s named DAVE looks at Ted with daggers in his eyes as he rings the bell on the nightstand.
My journey in “Four Rooms” was about to begin.
Fade to Black.
INT. HOTEL LOBBY – NIGHT
Ted rounds the corner towards the lobby, almost colliding into Loretta, the cherubic receptionist. She leans in, whispering in a conspiratorial tone.
Ted’s eyes go wide.
(gulps) The guests?
Loretta nods soberly.
They’re waiting for you.
Trembling, Ted attempts to regain his composure before stepping into something entirely unconventional.
EXT. HOTEL – DAY
(music plays in the background)
The hotel owners, MR. and MRS. REDMOND, with their team of bellboys and maids, prepare for a busy day. Ted steps out onto the sidewalk and begins his walk to work when he notices an older LADY dressed in a simple blue dress, wearing a large hat and carrying a cane, looking completely lost.
TED (approaching the old lady): “Excuse me, ma’am, can I help you with anything?”
OLD LADY: “Thank you, young man. I was told this is the place I should go for some fun.”
TED: “Oh, this is it, then. Perhaps you’d like me to guide you inside?”
OLD LADY: “Yes, please.”
Ted and the Old Lady enter the hotel lobby.
INT. HOTEL LOBBY – DAY
Ted walks the Old Lady to the front desk.
MR. REDMOND (interrupting): “What can I do for you, sir?”
TED: “This old lady is lost and looking for some fun. Can you direct her to the events?”
MR. REDMOND (bowing): “Certainly. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. We can’t have our guests wandering aimlessly around the premises. Daisy!”(pointing to a nearby maid)
DAISY: “Yes, Sir Redmond?”
MR. REDMOND: “Please escort this lady to her destination.”
DAISY offers her arm to the Old Lady and leads her off down a hallway.
INT. HOTEL LOBBY – DAY
Ted is standing behind the reception desk as a group of children approach. He greets them with a smile.
TED: *cheerful* Good morning, youngsters. Welcome to Hotel Cortez. How can I help you today?
CHILD: We’re looking for a lost puppy. Have you seen any in the hotel?
TED: *pauses* I’m sorry kids. I haven’t seen any puppies. But, why don’t you let me ask around the staff and guests? Someone might have some information that can help you.
The children’s faces brighten up as Ted makes his way towards the lift lobby. Suddenly, he hears an alarming noise coming from one of the elevator doors.
Ted quickly rushes over to investigate the sound. Standing there, he sees an unusual hotel guest- a bulky gentleman packing a large, black suitcase. With the gentleman engrossed in the packaging, Ted doesn’t hesitate to check for any potential damage to the elevator.
TED: *approaches the guest* Excuse me. Sir, is everything good?
GUEST: *startles* Oh that… *pauses* Haha I had to hurry up with the packing, pal.
TED: *laughs* Okay buddy. Well, have a safe day.
Ted gives a pat to the heavy-looking suitcase and makes his way back towards the reception area.
INT. HOTEL HALLWAY – DAY
Walking down the hallway, Ted finds himself attracted to one of the doors. He hesitates for a second before knocking. No answer. Trying again, he knocks loudly.
TED: *clears throat* Room service.
Suddenly, a door at the end of the room flies open, this startles Teddy as he jumps in surprise.
OLD LADY: *angrily* What do you wan’t, huh?
TED: *apologetic* Sorry ma’am, I didn’t mean to upset you. I was hoping to offer you our room service but you didn’t respond.
OLD LADY: *relaxes* Oh. *pauses* I thought you were one of the weirdos who keep knocking at my door all the time.
TED: *curiously* Sorry again. Is everything alright?
OLD LADY: No. I’ve been witnessing strange happenings since moving here a week ago. Guys in animal masks and ritualistic ceremonies. And that weird clown running around, too.
TED: *alarmed* That’s concerning, ma’am. Can you please tell me which room there is an unusual commotion coming from?
OLD LADY: *shaking her head* Not-anymore im afraid.
Ted turns around to leave, and his eyes land up visualizing something unusual outside the old lady’s room.
TED: *confused* Uh.. Is this yours?
Ted extends his arm out to tame a white wig- lying there arbitrarily. Old lady takes a look at it, stares into wallowing eyes for like a minute and inquires,
OLD LADY: *scared* Where did you find it?
TED: *pointing* Just a little distance from your door.
OLD LADY: *thoughtfully* That’s odd. I didn’t lose this on the road or anywhere. It was hidden beneath the pillow in my bedroom this morning.
Ted’s puzzlement strengthens as He listens calmly to the old apricot lady. She informs him about the unusual satanic illustrations after witnessing authentic British lapels in that room.
TED: *perceptibly discerns* Thank you for letting me go through this. I’ll investigate and try my best to assist you early.
The old lady warmly welcomed, closed the door, leaving Ted thinking!
INT. HOTEL DINING AREA – NIGHT
Ted walks out of the service elevator into a dining area where the silver is distributed on each table. Marganazi the handsome gangster screams at Ted.
MARGANAZI: “What took you so long, bellboy?”
TED: “Sorry, Mr. Marganazi, I was told a fast delivery was requested.”
Marganazi stares at Ted; it is clear that he is not pleased.
MARGANAZI: “I need to remind you, boy, that time is a valuable commodity in this line of work.”
TED: “Yes, sir, I understand.”
Marganazi’s paraplegic wife MYRNA groans in agony behind them.
MARGANAZI: “Now, make yourself scarce, and remember boy: Keep it fast, keep it efficient, and no mistakes.”
Ted nods, feeling the importance of the request more than ever. He begins to unload the food on the table, but as he picked up a tray of lasagna, a brawl erupts between two separate tables. Ted steps back as chairs are flounced around, and tables flip. Security quickly descends, attempting to separate them.
Ted is in disbelief that this all is happening on his first night. So far, it’s nothing how he expected his first shift to go.
As the situation slowly normalizes, the guests resume their meals like if nothing happened earlier while one stands and pulls out camping stoves and cooking supplies. Ted finalizes his delivery before walking to the bar muttering under his breath.
TED narrows his brows, looking over at the fight area, clutching the maul in his pocket before looking over to JEANIE, a helpful, slightly-tipsy hotel guest who spotted from the sideline.
JEANIE: “Teddy honey, take a deep breath, night’s probably gonna get worse, need anything to ensure there’s no further mishaps?”
Jeanie grabs Ted’s hand in comfort, rubbing a bit of cool from his hand.
TED: “Thanks, ma’am. I’ll keep that in mind for the next unexpected altercation”, closing in charismatic, Ted knows he’s grown tired of being everyone’s fallback guy, need to do the one thing that’ll put him on even footing.
Ted walks into the small assistant’s lounge to prepare himself to face the upcoming barrage of tricky plans, working on this night by locating some rogue tape from the drawer in the corner.