The Writer's Blood

When I closed the massive steel door behind me, there was no sound from the bustling street outside, just complete silence.

The Lobby

The lobby was wide and empty, the light a mixture of gleaming reflections from the high barred windows and deep darkness. I was alone.

One of the doors from the lobby to the main hall was unlocked. After entering the main hall, the door back to the lobby locked with a distinctive "snapp" - I was immediately reminded of the lyrics to Eagles' "Hotel California" (1976)¹ - "You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave". - Was I trapped?

The Restaurant.

The Restaurant

The main hall was separated from a large restaurant by a glass window. The dining room was completely empty, prepared for an illustrious banquet. From a distance there was the faint sound of cutlery and crockery, as if someone was eating. But there was no one to be seen.

Something told me to better leave the deserted hall and find the white Ford Thunderbird the writer had been talking about, so I passed by the haunted restaurant and made my way through the hall along the empty wardrobe, not getting rid of the feeling that someone or something was following me.

At the top of the stairs down to the garage, I risked a quick look back to see if anyone was behind me. No one was there - I was alone.

The Garage

The air down the stairs into the garage was warm and sticky - the usual smell of cars and petrol, coupled with an equally strange sweet perfume.

1966 Ford Thunderbird convertible²

There it was - hard to miss - the white 1966 Ford Thunderbird convertible that the writer had been talking about. I wondered why it was parked open, with no roof - as if the driver knew he was only here for a short time and would soon be leaving.

The old car was covered in a thin layer of dust, which someone had whipped away in places.

As I approached the old car, the smell of the sweet perfume intensified.

I took a few pictures from the back of the car. The boot was huge - and I wondered what could be in it - when I suddenly noticed reddish brown marks on the floor behind the car.

Panic.

The Writer's Blood?

References:
¹ Eagles. Hotel California. Lyrics.
² 1966 Ford Thunderbird convertible.