Chapter 19.

The sensor data logs should also allow the cops to determine if the door was left open for an extended period of time. That would rule out the possibility that I left something wedged in the door to avoid a second usage of the keycard. I also didn’t bring my laptop with me at the time, so there shouldn’t have been any way for me to hack or tamper with the sensor log data remotely and modify them in any way. My laptop didn’t magically appear beside me when I woke up at the hotel in the morning so I should be clear in that department.

I didn’t know what room they kept the sensor data logs in that hotel as it was my first time staying there. If I was sneaking about randomly or loitering, I’d definitely be caught on security camera footage or even caught by the security guards themselves.

With all that in mind, there really shouldn’t be any possible way for me to be the murderer. Of course, this all depends on the findings of the police. Whether they would dig so deep was also an unknown.

Rather, the death in itself was extremely strange. There didn’t appear to be any resistance put up that one would normally expect from someone being drowned alive. His body in the bathtub appeared far too peaceful and the clothing he wore was in perfect condition with no signs that there was any sort of struggle before his death.

The more I thought about it, the more I suspected it was truly the work of a ghost like in the nightmare I had. Would the cops entertain idiotic thoughts like that though? I doubt anyone would and when I considered how the last case was handled, wouldn’t they just mark it off as a simple suicide again?

While I stared at my phone blankly, I noticed something blurred out in my peripheral vision slightly behind it poking out over the edge. When I focused on the ceiling overhead, blocked off by the smartphone obstructing my vision, I noticed a black mass. 

… upon closer inspection, it seemed to be a head of black hair, but I was doubtful.

I slowly lowered the phone to reveal everything that was there, but the moment I did, it faded out of existence as if it were a simple illusory figment of my imagination. Nevertheless, it still left me rubbing my face with my hands to try and get ahold of reality. Why was a head of black hair somehow the creepiest thing ever? It wasn’t a jump scare and I didn’t hear a thing, yet I was still somehow immensely disturbed just by the thought of it.

It brought back memories of my past psychotic girlfriends. Oftentimes I’d go to bed alone with doors locked, yet I’d wake up in the morning only to discover they would be right beside my bed peering over the edge at my face with their crazy unblinking eyes. I still get chills whenever I think back to those days; even now, I wake up in the morning worried about what I’ll see when I open my eyes.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

When I confirmed it really was just a figment of my imagination and that it was truly gone, I wrapped myself in my blanket, put in my earbuds, then turned on soothing music to help me fall asleep. I was determined to not think about today's events any further and after about half an hour, I managed to finally fall asleep.

…

“Hah... Hah... Hah...”

I couldn’t move unhindered.

I could hardly breathe.

No matter how much I willed myself to, I couldn’t run away or escape.

My body refused to move the way I wanted.

It felt like I was in quicksand and I was slowly sinking downwards into a thick quagmire. The more I struggled against it, the more fatigued I felt.

Both my legs felt like dead weight and no matter how strongly I tried to convince myself that I was surely much faster than this, my body wouldn’t obey my wishes.

All I could see was the figure of someone’s back in front of me. Yet, I couldn’t catch up to them even when I knew I should’ve been able to.

No matter how badly I wished to move my legs faster they continued to slow until I came to a dead stop. Eventually I fell to my knees in exhaustion and I was forced to crawl along the ground at a snail's pace.

I crawled a few meters forward, but even my arms felt heavy and I could no longer move them after a while.

I struggled forward with all I had until I came to a complete dead stop. My body felt like stone and I had no way to resist the numb sensation coursing through my body. Eventually, I ceased to breathe when my lungs inevitably collapsed.

…

My eyes shot open wide, I sat up panting for oxygen as I realized it was a familiar type of nightmare that I hadn’t had in quite some time.

For as long as I remembered, I’ve had that exact same type of nightmare many times. Regardless of what dream it may be, whenever I try to run in my dreams, it always turns into that exact same phenomenon where I feel completely helpless. It’s always as if I’m slowly sinking into quicksand without any way to resist. 

When I walked everything would usually be fine, the only time this phenomenon occurred was when I ran. I was always rapidly drained of my stamina and I fell into that dire state every time.

Not long after I woke up, I came to my senses, glanced outside the car window, and found it was already morning. Being outside and seeing the sun first thing in the morning left me with a strange sense of security along with relief. Ignoring the recurring nightmare I’ve frequently had in the past, I’d made it through a night without anything too over the top happening for a change.

I noticed the time on my smartphone and realized it was almost time for work. Albeit reluctant to go, I knew I needed to. Not being alone was for the best. For the sake of keeping my sanity, interacting with my coworkers was the best choice available to me. 

When I thought of what happened to Rick though, I wasn’t too sure whether I would be inviting danger to my coworkers. However, I’m no selfless Buddha and if they just so happened to die for inexplicable reasons, what did their deaths have to do with me? People were dying all the time across the world and the world was already overpopulated enough as it was.

I’d already long grown more or less indifferent to people dying thanks to those psychotic ex-girlfriends of mine anyways.