There was a third knock at my door and I replaced the blanket as I jumped to my feet. I didn’t let myself think about how dead I was. Running to the door, I pulled it open a crack. It wasn’t the manager standing there, but a girl around my age. She was smiling wide, her white teeth a bright contrast to her smooth, dark brown skin.

“Hi!” she said, taking a small step forward, “I’m Brittney. I’m in the room next to you.”

I tried to smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace. It was hard to tell what my face was doing while I was internally freaking out.

“I’m Jessica,” I said in a rush, “nice to meet you.” I moved to close the door, but she stepped forward again.

“I love your outfit,” she said, still smiling. She was pretty, like, too pretty. And I was on the verge of a panic attack. “What are you, like goth or grunge or something?” She tilted her head, her curly black hair bouncing with the movement.

I shrugged, wishing for a way to escape. Making small talk was the last thing on my mind right now. “Sure,” I said, “I just wear whatever I feel like.”

“Oh,” she replied. Her grin faded a little bit. Maybe she was picking up on how distracted I was. “Well, whatever you are, I really like your style.”

I nodded, hoping she was done trying to talk to me. I felt bad, because I was probably coming off as a total jerk, but I was too stressed to feign politeness.

“I just wanted to come by and let you know that they serve breakfast from six to seven for employees,” she said, “so be sure to set your alarm. I was super late my first day.”

“Thanks,” I replied. I think I pulled off a more convincing smile this time. “I’ll be sure to remember that!”

“You’re welcome,” Brittney with a nod. I shut the door as she stepped away.

Turning around, I pressed my back against the door as I stared down at the mangled blanket. I felt sick. Taking an apprehensive step forward, I reached out and pulled the blanket away. I couldn’t even think as I stared down at what I’d done. The sword was in two pieces. The spot near the hilt, where the blade had nearly been eaten through with rust, was broken. On my first day here, I’d fallen on a sword that probably should have been in a museum and I’d broken it into two freaking pieces. I was so beyond fired.

With hesitant steps, I walked forward and knelt before the sword. If I was lucky, the manager wouldn’t go through this stuff for a long time. She’d said she was busy. Maybe by the time she did go through it, she would think that the sword had always been broken. By then, I probably wouldn’t be working here anymore.

Picking up the pieces of the sword, I carefully put them back in the box and closed the lid. No one had seen what I’d done. That girl—Brittney, I think her name was—hadn’t seen that I’d broken the sword. With a huff, I pushed the long wooden box back into the mountainous mess. No one would ever know that it was me who broke it.

With a deep breath, I grabbed my toothbrush and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. When I was done, I returned to my room and changed into my pajamas. As I straightened my posture, I glanced up at the window and before I could stop myself, I jumped back in alarm, a yell of surprise escaping my lips.

For a split second I had seen someone’s face in the window. I could see the reflection of my face staring wide-eyed back at me, but a moment ago I swear I had seen someone else’s face right where mine had been. Though I hadn’t really had any time to process it, it had looked like a man.

I took a shaky breath as I stared at the dark window. It didn’t look like there was anyone outside. Had it been some trick of the light? Or was my imagination just running wild?

Shaking my head, I stepped over to the door and turned out the light. The darkness of the room suddenly seemed oppressive. Walking over to my bed, I pulled the blanket over me. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and tried to clear my head as I fell asleep.

My cell phone buzzed.

The unexpected sound surprised me and I sat up, my heart beating a little bit faster than normal. My hands fumbled around in the darkness until I grabbed a hold of it. Squinting in the piercing light of the screen, I held the phone up to my face. There was no call or text. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There were no notifications at all. Confused, I set my phone back on the nightstand and lay down.

Just as I was beginning to drift off to sleep, my phone lit up and buzzed once more, rattling against the stand. When I sat up and checked it, there was still no call or text. My heart started beating faster. Taking a deep breath, I turned off my phone completely. When the screen went black I set my phone back down. It was off now.

The moment I let go of my phone, it lit up a third time, moving slightly as it buzzed against the table top. I stared at it, completely frozen. This was impossible, right? My phone was off—I had just turned it off! Grabbing my blanket, I held it over my mouth.

As my phone lit up and buzzed a fourth time, something else caught my eye. Near the door of my room, illuminated only by my cell phone, I could see something moving. It looked like a shadowy figure, coming towards me. Then the cell phone light went out.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. What—what was going on?

I jumped when my phone lit up once more, filling the air with quiet buzzing. The figure was closer now. It was the vague form of a man, his empty eyes staring in my direction. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run away. I had seen enough horror films to know that whatever was coming next wasn’t going to be good and yet, I was still paralyzed. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing right in front of me.

The light of my phone went out again and I was left in darkness. My heart was pounding so hard that I could feel it shaking my body. Who knew how close the figure was coming toward me now? Was I about to die? Would someone find my bloody remains in the morning with no explanation as to how it happened?

The cell phone buzzed and I squinted in the sudden light. The figure was even closer. I could see blood. It was such a deep, violent red color that it almost glowed as it poured out of his chest. The cell phone light went out, then back on. He was closer, almost within reaching distance. I wanted to scream, but my mouth was too dry. All I could do was tremble in the sudden cold.

His arm reached out toward me and I was too frozen to draw back. This was it. I was legit about to die. As his hand came closer, his indistinct flesh seemed to melt away, revealing a skeletal hand. Glancing up, I saw his hollow white skull staring at me, glowing in the cell phone light. Then, before my eyes, the skeleton turned to dust and the figure was gone. A second later, my phone went dark.

It took me a moment to realize just how hard I was shaking. Even my lip was quivering as terrified tears threatened to fall from my eyes. Was this some sort of nightmare? It felt real. Moving slowly, I pinched my arm. It hurt.

I wasn’t dreaming. This was real. The only word that came into my mind at that moment was ghost.

This place was haunted.

I breathed out slowly as a tear streaked down my face. This was all crazy, and had I not just seen it, I wouldn’t believe it.

For a long time I stayed right where I was, curled up on my bed with my back pressed against the wall. I was waiting—waiting for something else to happen. Everything was still. Minutes crawled by. Then hours. With a shiver, I pulled my blankets tighter. It was freezing. This night was going to last forever.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Somehow, though it seemed impossible, I eventually saw the sky turn pink. I hadn’t slept at all. Seeing the sun rise was the greatest sense of relief I’d ever felt, and the worst disappointment. On the plus side, I hadn’t been brutally murdered. Unfortunately, I was so tired that I kind of wished I had.

My head was throbbing as I went in to breakfast and my eyes were bloodshot and puffy. I looked so much like something that had just risen from the dead that I was half expecting my new coworkers to start gathering torches and pitchforks. Fortunately, no one really seemed to take notice of me as I nodded off over my cereal bowl. Now I just had to figure out where I was supposed to go for work.

Nervous dread twisted in my stomach. Lucky, lucky me. After the horror fest of last night, I had to start my new job today. After I was done eating, a lady named Shelly came up to me and told me that she was going to be my trainer. I was stuck following her around as she showed me what needed to be done for each room. I shadowed her for the whole day and helped her clean, but I wasn’t sure how much of a help I actually was. I was kind of stuck in zombie mode.

After a short lunch break and a few more rooms, I was finally done. My feet were sore, my back ached, and I was so tired that my eyelids were starting to feel like sandpaper. The only thing keeping me alive at this point was the thought of dinner. As I jogged down the flight of stairs, the most amazing smell met me. They served all the meals buffet style here which suited me just fine. I could out-eat most of the guys I knew.

The massive doors of the great hall were wide open, so I went in. It was still a little too early for the bulk of the dinner crowd to be here, but there were a few families seated at the long wooden tables. Even though I’d spent some time in here yesterday, it still took my breath away. It was just so big.

As I loaded up my plate, I saw a guy standing on the wooden stage at the far end of the room. I assumed he was getting ready to perform because he was wearing a very colorful, and very tacky, jester costume. Maybe my outfit really wasn’t that bad after all. It might be hideous, but at least it wasn’t colorful and hideous.

I found an empty table and sat down just as the jester took center stage and bowed to everyone that was seated. He was tall and lanky, but he didn’t look too much older than me. To match his blinding outfit, he had on a jester hat complete with little bells. I was sitting far away so I couldn’t see him clearly, but it looked like he had painted his face white.

“Welcome ladies and gents!” he cried out, using an old-timey English accent. “I hope you’re all having a wonderful time here at The King’s Rest!” Scattered applause and a few cheers filled the air. “I am but a humble jester,” he continued, “but I shall strive to keep you entertained while you enjoy the absurd number of turkey legs we serve here.” The seated families laughed as he sunk into another deep bow.

As I started to eat, my eyes wandered the great hall. From across the aisle I could see Brittney’s familiar curly afro as she was wiping down a few of the tables. I ducked down before she noticed me.

She was a waitress. I groaned inwardly as I waited for her to turn away. After the awkward encounter with her last night, I wasn’t terribly anxious to talk to her again. She probably thought I was a total weirdo.

The sound of the audience clapping brought my attention back to the jester. He was juggling three balls, tossing them higher and higher. The audience clapped again as he threw in a fourth ball and when he finally caught them all with a flourish, they cheered. Setting down my fork, I clapped too. It was actually pretty impressive.

“Thank you!” he cried. “Thank you very much, you are all too kind!” Walking over to the edge of the stage, he jumped down and approached one of the nearby tables. He knelt beside a younger boy who was eating dinner with his family.

“Hello young knight,” he said, still projecting his voice for the room to hear. “How are you doing this fine evening? Are you enjoying your time here in the castle?”

He glanced around, looking uncertain before giving him a quick nod.

“Splendid!” he said. “Now, that juggling act I just did, that was a bit boring wasn’t it? I mean, royalty like you has seen a silly act like that a hundred times over!”

The little girl boy shrugged and laughed nervously.

The jester’s smile widened. “I was wondering if you might help me make it more exciting. Would you do that for me?”

He nodded again, less apprehensive this time.

As I watched the exchange, I felt very relieved that I’d decided to sit far away from the stage. Being randomly chosen to participate in a performance would be a nightmare come true.

“Alright,” the jester continued, rising to his feet, “I’m going to hand five of these juggling balls to you and when I say go, I want you to throw them at me, all five of them at the same time. I’ll catch them and start juggling. Does that sound like a good plan?”

He giggled and nodded as the jester handed him five of the juggling balls. The jester then took a few steps back, closer to the stage, and crouched down.

“Get ready,” he said as he stretched out his arms, “and go!”

The boy threw all five of them and the jester leapt forward, exaggerating his movements as he frantically grasped at them. Unsurprisingly, most of them hit him and bounced away while he tripped and fell on his face. The children in the room burst into laughter and I rolled my eyes. This was definitely a show geared toward kids.

“That didn’t work so well, did it?” the jester asked as he picked himself back up. The boy laughed and shook his head. Moving quickly, the jester retrieved all of the juggling balls. “Perhaps we should try that again. This time, throw them to me one at a time.”

Despite the cheesiness of the act, I found it hard to look away. Granted, there wasn’t much else to watch in the room, unless I wanted to be on the lookout for Brittney. The little boy threw the balls at the jester again, one at a time, and he caught them, juggling them with ease. My eyes widened as I watched him start to walk around the tables, making his way up the steps of the stage. He was juggling the whole time. I didn’t know much about juggling, but what he was doing looked completely impossible.

I caught myself smiling as I watched him, so I quickly glanced down and shoved some food in my mouth. Despite the tacky costume, and the fact that he knew how to juggle, he was actually kind of cute.

Of course, that meant nothing. I was way too much of a coward to actually go and talk to him. Besides, after he took that white paint off his face, he might look totally different. Maybe he was covered in zits.

As I finished up what was on my plate, I felt someone tug on my sleeve. Surprised, I glanced down to see a little boy standing next to me. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

“Hello,” I said. He stared at me, wide-eyed. “Can I help you with something?”

He frowned at me, his little lips pinched together. He couldn’t have been more than four or five. “Why did you break my sword?” he asked at last.

My heart stopped. “What?”

“You shouldn’t have broken my sword,” he said, his expression solemn.

I could feel the blood leave my face. “How—how did you—” I shook my head. “I—I didn’t mean to—I mean—” For a few, wonderful minutes, I’d been so distracted by the jester that I’d forgotten all about the horror film I was stuck in.

He glared up at me. “I’m very angry.”

“Josh!” An older woman came up behind the boy. “I’m so sorry,” she said, pulling her son away, “Josh, come on, stop bothering this lady.”

“Oh he’s fine,” I said automatically. The little boy didn’t look angry anymore. He smiled as he followed his mom back to their table.

I was frozen in place.

He couldn’t have known about the sword, right? I was alone last night, nobody saw me break it. My eyes widened. Maybe it wasn’t this place that was haunted. It had to be the sword itself.

Rising to my feet, I glanced up at the jester onstage one last time. To my surprise, our eyes met for a second. A kind of weird expression passed over his face then—he looked alarmed by something—and then he accidently dropped one of the balls he was juggling. Our gaze broke as he scrambled to catch the rest and I turned to leave.

As I headed out the great hall, a new family was just entering. A young girl walked hand-in-hand with her dad. When I passed her, she glanced up at me.

“Why did you break my sword?” she asked.

I whirled around to get a better look at her, but she was already a few feet away from me, still walking with her family. My heart was pounding.

Without letting myself think, I rushed back to the dorms. By the time I reached my room my hands were shaking so hard that I could barely get the key out of my pocket to unlock the door. Then I stopped short. My bedroom door was already open.

It wasn’t open very wide, just a few inches, but it was definitely open. I clenched my hands. There was a chance that I didn’t lock it this morning, but I most certainly didn’t leave my door hanging open. Steeling myself, I took a deep breath and pushed the door open wide.