In the distance through the veil of white, a silhouette with a massive crown of antlers stood, unmoving by the snowstorm. Its fur flowed like it was under water, opposite to the gusts that blew through the clearing.

  "Well, shit." Clyde backed away from the window, walking back to the bedroom. The duffle bag he carried zipped open, and the clanks of him arranging his gun came through the crack of the door. Kyle followed him, leaning against the doorway.

  "First zombies in an underground bunker, now Bambi's evil grandad in a blizzard," Kyle said. "Can't we get one normal day?"

  Clyde came out with his signature long gun. He stamped the magazine to click into place. "At least this one's edible. Venison for lunch, anyone?"

  "You're not serious," Rachel said.

  "Dead serious. That meat can last us for days in this damned blizzard. Nice time to try ghost meat," Kyle said.

  "Ghost?!" Gale winced. "That can't be one right?"

  "Ghosts aren't real!" Ollie whispered harshly. "Besides, that's not a deer!"

  "That's the thing I saw last night. I couldn't hit it. It must be a ghost," Gale said.

  Ollie slapped his palm on his forehead.

  "What do you mean?" Rachel softly asked, turning to Gale.

  Gale took a deep deep breath that was too fast to be called a deep breath. "I heard scratching around 3 in the morning and you guys wouldn't get up. I looked at the peephole and I saw something with antlers that looked back at me. It ran away and I followed it upstairs."

  "You followed it?" Rachel asked. "Alone?"

  "I had my sword," Gale said. "I chased it to the sixth floor. The hallway up there... it's not normal. Candles everywhere. Red circles on the walls, the carpet, the ceiling."

  "Satanic shit," Kyle whistled. "Some form of it anyways."

  "Whatever it was," Gale said, "I couldn't hit it. It was a ghost."

  Clyde ejected the current magazine and pulled out a different magazine with silver-lined glyphs all over the case. He stamped it onto the long gun's receiver. "Ghosts, spectres, spirits, demons, ectoplasm, whatever you wanna call them. I'm getting breakfast."

  "Ghost venison coming right up," Kyle said, pulling out his Glock. He checked the chamber, then looked at his brother. "You got mine, right?"

  Clyde tossed him pistol magazines with the same silver-lined glyphs. Kyle caught it with one hand and put it in his pistol.

  "You two are insane," Rachel said. "You can't just shoot at whatever you see!"

  "Can I get some of those?" Ollie said, walking to the twins. He pulled his deagle from his jacket. "Standard rounds don't do much against spectral manifestations."

  Clyde dug in his bag and tossed Ollie a small carton box. "You're paying for that shit."

  "No shit I am. You got this from my bazaar." Ollie shook his head.

  Rachel threw her hands up. "Are you all seriously planning to hunt that thing? We don't even know what it is!"

  "That's the job description," Kyle said. "See weird shit, shoot weird shit, file paperwork about weird shit."

  "Rachel's right," Gale said. "This isn't like the zombies. I couldn't even touch it."

  Rachel turned to Gale, putting a hand on his arm. "Can you tell us how strong it was?"

  "That's the problem. I couldn't tell. When it was behind me, it felt like nothing was there. Not even a blank spot. Just... nothing." Gale looked down, fiddling with his fingers. "You know my senses are never wrong."

  "Right. Any more you can tell us?" Rachel squeezed softly.

  "It was like..." Gale said. "Like it was alive but not alive. I don't know how to explain, but then… I heard something laughing."

  "Laughing?" Ollie asked, loading rounds into his deagle's magazine.

  "Like a little girl," Gale said. "When I was on the sixth floor. That's what scared me most. The laugh was like a demon and a girl at the same time, and it pushed me off the stairs."

  Rachel stepped closer, talking quieter. "Gale, did you leave the suite after 12:14 last night?"

  "What?"

  "The clerk said not to leave our rooms after 12:14," Rachel said. "Did you?"

  Gale paused, then nodded. "Because there was scratching..."

  "And that's when you saw it?"

  He nodded again.

  "That's how people die in the movies! 'What's that noise?' Dead. 'Let me check the basement alone.' Dead. 'I'll be right back.' Super dead," Kyle said.

  "This isn't a movie," Rachel's tone raised.

  "Might as well be," Kyle said. "Creepy hotel, blizzard, monster outside. All we're missing is a crazy guy with an axe."

  "Does the clerk count?" Clyde asked. "That guy's creepy."

  Rachel went back to the window and looked through it. The figure still stood by the trees, not moving even with the strong wind. "We should stay inside. It hasn't tried to come in."

  "Yet," Ollie added.

  "It did last night," Gale said.

  Kyle checked his watch. "It's 10:23 am now. Maybe it only comes out at night, or only after 12:14."

  "Or maybe it's going to get us in our sleep," Clyde said, moving closer to the window with his rifle, and then looking through the scope, putting the deer-looking thing on his reticule. "I can take the shot right now, bro. Let me do it."

  "Through the glass?" Ollie asked.

  "Let me just crack the window just a tiny tiny bit."

  Rachel put her hand on the barrel, pushing it down. "No. Not until we know more."

  "What more do we need to know?" Clyde asked. "It's out there, we're in here, I have a gun."

  "And if shooting it just makes it angry?" Rachel said. "If it can't be hurt by physical weapons? If it has friends?"

  Clyde lowered his rifle.

  "She's right," Gale said. "My sword went right through it last night."

  "But we got ghost bullets. There's a difference," Kyle said.

  Ollie put his gun away with a sigh. "Shut it. We wait. But keep your weapons ready."

  Kyle plopped back onto the sofa, putting his feet on the coffee table. "Great. Trapped in a haunted hotel with a demon deer outside. This is not what I signed up for."

  "You signed up for Special Investigations," Ollie reminded him. "Emphasis on 'Special.'"

  "Yeah, but I thought that meant embezzlement. The good kind. Against the corporate machine. I think… but now it's 'The Shining' meets 'Bambi' meets 'The Thing.'"

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Rachel shook her head, putting a palm to her face. "Enough with the movies already. You wouldn't shut up about them in that dark rift either, Kyle. This is real life, not some horror flick marathon."

  "Just stating facts," Kyle said. "Every decision we make right now is straight out of the 'How to Die Horribly' handbook."

  "I've got an idea. Instead of arguing about horror movies, I'm going to talk to the clerk," Rachel said.

  "The old man?" Clyde lowered his rifle, resting it against the wall by the window. "He barely remembered which rooms to put us in."

  "Yeah," Kyle added. "Pretty sure he thought it was still 2052."

  "But he knew about the 12:14 thing," Rachel pointed out. "That's specific. Too specific to be random."

  Gale moved away from the window, the figure with antlers still visible in the snow, somehow just watching them. It wasn't doing anything. Like it was waiting… waiting to attack! Out of all of these people, Rachel was the safest and probably the sanest.

  "The guy was one wrong look away from offering us all candy and a ride in his windowless van kind of mental," Kyle said.

  Rachel tucked her hair behind her ears. "Well, he's the only other person in this hotel. He might know something."

  "Rachel's right. It doesn't matter what he is, might as well ask," Ollie put his gun back in his jacket. "I'm keeping these rounds, just in case. No take backs."

  "Keep it," Clyde said, with a small smile. "We've got plenty."

  "How many is 'plenty'?" Ollie asked.

  Kyle grinned. "Enough to start our own ghost-hunting business if we get fired."

  Rachel grabbed her jacket and wore it in one swift motion. "Ok. Ollie, you and the twins stay here. Keep watching that thing, but don't do anything unless it comes toward the hotel. Gale and I will go talk to Robert."

  "Hell no," Ollie said immediately. "We stick together."

  "Bad plan," Kyle sat up straight. "Splitting up is a no go."

  "Horror movie rule number one," Clyde said. "Never split up."

  "Would you three stop with the movie crap?" Rachel yelled. "Five people marching down to interrogate an old man is overkill. It'll scare him."

  "And if whatever's outside decides to come in while you two are downstairs?" Ollie asked.

  "Then you shoot it," Rachel said. "Simple as that."

  "Or," Clyde offered, "we all go down together, armed and ready. Shoot weird man if he looks at us wrong."

  Not going to lie, Gale kind of wanted to do the same thing too. Slash at anything that moves even slightly wrong. Dip and run if his sword passes through again. He could survive out there in the woods in this snowstorm. He's been through worse.

  Looking back at Rachel, he winced. Can't leave her or Ollie though. Maybe knock them out first and take them to the woods where they could live all together until this whole thing blows over.

  "Two people is better than five in this case," Rachel slammed her palm on the coffee table. "We'll be quieter, less threatening."

  "Two people is lunch for whatever that thing is," Kyle chuckled.

  "I'm bringing Gale. He's the most sensible one here," Rachel said, zipping up her jacket halfway. "No offense, you three just want to shoot your toys at anything that moves. We aren't doing any of that in this hotel."

  Gale faked a smile at Rachel.

  "Fine," Ollie said. "But if you're not back in fifteen minutes, we're coming down guns blazing. And you take your phone. Keep the line open."

  "Agreed," Rachel said. She turned to Gale. "Ready?"

  Gale nodded, grabbing his jacket from the chair, checking if the storage box was in the pocket. It was.

  The elevator stopped with a shudder, and the doors slid open. Gale stepped into the lobby first. Rachel followed. The familiar dim lobby door with retro like wall lights came into view.

  "Hey. You know why I chose you to come with?" Rachel asked as the lobby's temperature went up.

  "Why?" Gale's eyes shifted left and right. Legs tensed up, ready to run if he catches any sudden movement.

  "It's because you're the only one who might not shoot first and ask questions never. Ollie would put two centre mass before asking a single question. And the twins? Same thing plus they'd turn this hotel into a shooting gallery just for fun," Rachel said.

  Gale nodded, forcing himself to smile. Don't have to say anything. Just agree with her even though last night, it was slash first think later.

  Reaching the lobby, it was empty. No employees around. No other guests checking in, probably not with this kind of weather. An old grandfather clock rang when it hit 11AM.

  "Robert? Hello?" Rachel called out.

  No answer.

  They got to the front desk. A door labelled "Employees Only" was slightly open.

  "You think he's there?" Gale asked.

  "One way to find out." Rachel moved around the counter and knocked on the employees only door.

  "May I help you?"

  The flat, emotionless voice came from behind them.

  Gale spun around, hand going to his pocket where the storage box was. Robert stood by the grandfather clock, though neither of them had heard him come up. The old man cast almost no shadow under the dim retro lights on the walls.

  "Jesus," Rachel muttered. "You scared us."

  Robert's face stayed blank, his pale eyes fixed on them without blinking. "Guests aren't permitted behind the counter."

  Rachel quickly stepped back around to the lobby side. "Sorry about that. We were looking for you."

  "I am here," Robert said. "What do you need?"

  Something about Robert's stillness bothered Gale. It was hitting all the uncanny he's ever seen in a man, and halloween had already definitely passed.

  "We saw something outside," Gale gulped. "In the trees."

  Robert didn't respond.

  "A deer, maybe?" Rachel said. "Really big. With antlers."

  "Deer are common in this area," Robert said, smiling.

  "This wasn't exactly a normal deer," Gale said. "It was huge. Standing on two legs, maybe."

  Robert's expression didn't change. "The blizzard plays tricks."

  "Are there any local stories about something like that? Any folklore around here in Sudbury?" Rachel said.

  "Folklore?" Robert said.

  "Yeah," Gale said. "Local legends. Ghost stories. That kind of thing."

  Robert's head tilted slightly. "There are many stories."

  "About deer?" Rachel asked. "Or things with antlers?"

  "The wendigo," Robert said with a tone too casual. "People who ate human flesh during the winter. They became monsters with antlers and insatiable hunger. That's what the First Nations say."

  Chills ran down Gale's spine and neck.

  "And do you believe?" Rachel asked.

  "I believe," Robert said slowly, "that guests should remain in their rooms after 12:14."

  "Why that specific time?" Rachel asked.

  "Hotel policy."

  "That's not an answer," Gale said, noticing the old man hadn't blinked since the start of the conversation—a thing that only ghosts do. He must be a ghost. I'm watching you, Robert, if that is even your real name.

  "Not all questions have answers that visitors would understand," Robert said.

  Rachel stepped closer to the desk. "Has anyone else seen it? This thing outside?"

  "Many guests see many things," Robert replied. "The woods are full of creatures."

  "Cut the crap," Gale said. "There's something out there, and it's not a deer or blizzard tricks. I saw it inside the hotel."

  "You left your room after 12:14."

  "Yeah, I did," Gale said. "So what? I heard scratching. Of course I'm going to check it out."

  "Scratching?" Robert's lips twitched once.

  "Like claws or hooves," Gale said. "On wood."

  Robert walked around and set himself behind the front desk. He opened the table drawer, taking out a cylinder of sea salt and placing it on the counter. "Place it at your threshold."

  Rachel picked up the cylinder of iodized salt. "Seriously?"

  "For protection," Robert said. "If you choose to stay after sunset."

  "If we choose?" Gale asked. "The roads are buried in snow. We can't leave."

  "There are always choices," Robert said. "Not all of them good."

  Rachel put the cylinder of salt in her pocket, its edge sticking out. "What else can you tell us about this thing? How do we keep it out?"

  "The Horned One walks between worlds," Robert said flatly. "It cannot be kept out entirely. It cannot be killed. It can only be... discouraged."

  "Discouraged how?" Gale asked.

  "Salt. Iron. Fire," Robert said. "Fire works best."

  Gale knew it. Deal, sealed, stamped, and done. He had to stay near Rachel at all times. Can't leave her side no more.

  "Anything else?" Rachel asked.

  Robert looked at the lobby windows as the gusts banged against the windows. "The Horned One seeks those who see beyond the veil. Those like you."

  Gale's leg tensed up. "What do you mean, 'like us'?"

  "Guests who ask questions," Robert said smoothly. "Curious guests."

  Rachel pulled at Gale's arm. "We should get back upstairs."

  "One more question. Is this thing responsible for what's on the sixth floor? The candles, the symbols?" Gale asked.

  Robert finally showed some semblance of emotion that looked like surprise. "You went to the sixth floor?"

  "Last night," Gale said.

  "There is no sixth floor," Robert said. "Hotel Frankley has five floors only."

  "We should go. Now." Rachel pulled Gale's arm again, dragging him away from the lobby. "Thanks for the salt, Robert."

  Robert watched them back away, his head tracking them eerily slow, like he was a ghost. "Remember," he called after them. "Stay in your rooms after 12:14."

  The elevators opened immediately as soon as Rachel pressed the up button. She pulled Gale inside and pressed the 2nd floor.

  "Five floors? I was definitely on a sixth floor last night," Gale said as the doors closed.

  "I don't know," Rachel said. "But he knew something."

  The elevator shuddered, going up one floor. Gears turned and clanked as it carried them.

  "What do you make of all that wendigo talk?" Gale asked.

  "Old stories usually have some truth to them. The wendigo myth is about hunger and winter and what people will do to survive. But that doesn't explain what's outside now," Rachel said.

  The elevator slowed, reaching their floor, opening with a ding.