Silent Vigil

There was another loud thud, then another. It sounded like someone was walking around. Ethan eyed the spiral staircase warily. He didn't want to find out who was wandering about down there, but he couldn't linger for too long. He had already spent a while exploring, and he needed to return all of the keys to their respective places before Spencer arrived to start the morning shift.

Ethan began to creep down the stairs as quietly as he could manage, the aged wood creaking loudly in places. He paused again as he heard more heavy footsteps, but they seemed to be moving away from him. It was hard to tell where exactly in the building they were, what floor they might be on. Better to just get back to the elevator as quickly as possible, he might not have time to find a room to hide in and wait the person out.

He descended a couple more floors and was relieved to hear the pounding footsteps coming from above him now. Odd, he could have sworn that they had been beneath him only a second ago, and there was only one staircase. How were they moving between the floors? Perhaps another secret passage that had been lost to time?

As he reached the observation deck, he stopped in his tracks, his blood turning to ice water in his veins. He had closed the door to the balcony when he had left, he was certain of it, but now it was wide open. The chill wind howled, sheets of rain lashing against the grimy windows, the sound of it deafening. There was a flash of lightning chased by an echoing crack of thunder, illuminating the balcony for a moment, just long enough for him to see that one of the gargoyles was missing. The support bracket where it had once been perched was now empty, the massive stone statue was simply gone, as though it had gotten up and walked away under its own power. It couldn't have fallen to the street below, the bracket was completely intact.

Ethan took in a staggered breath as he put two and two together. Red eyes in the dark, the winged beast that had attacked Fairfax in the elevator shaft, the monster that had been haunting his nightmares. The grey skin, the leathery wings, weight enough to overload an elevator car. It wasn't a giant bat, it was a gargoyle.

Somehow, the force that was keeping the ghosts trapped in the building had animated that thing, and now it was stalking the upper floors. Was it guarding its master's secrets, terrifying or dispatching those who came too close to discovering the truth? What other purpose could it serve?

He fought back his panic, trying to collect himself. Just the vague memory of his dreams was enough to fill him with terror such that his entire body began to quiver. He remembered the feeling of its cold, lifeless fingers closing around his throat, choking off his breath. The way that its eyes glowed like red searchlights, the ease in which it had powered through the locked doors of his suite, the awful huffing sound of it taking in his scent like a demonic bloodhound.

More thuds came from upstairs, the thing was walking around, its weight making flakes of plaster rain from the ceiling. It knew that someone was here, and it was searching for him.

Trying to resist the urge to run, he continued down the staircase, silently cursing every creaking step. There was a lull in the storm now, the relative silence seeming to amplify the noise. Ethan passed by the Sky Lounge, finally arriving at the suites. Only a couple more floors to go until he reached the elevator. His thighs were burning, hurrying up and down the twisting staircase was more exercise than he'd gotten in weeks.

He arrived at the floor where the elevator was, the glint of its golden doors in sight at the far end of the corridor. Almost the moment that his shoe left the last step, the sound of something heavy landing on the carpet made him freeze in place, the floor shaking beneath his feet. It was here, on the same level as him, close by. How the hell was the thing moving from floor to floor? Could it be traveling on the outside of the building?

It sounded like it had entered through one of the suites to his right, his heart racing as he frantically went over his options. Make a dash for the elevator? No, it would certainly hear him and head him off. Hide in one of the adjacent rooms? No choice, he had to do it.

Fortunately, few of the doors up here were closed, never mind locked. The pervasive damp made the old wood swell until it would no longer fit in its frame. He turned sideways to slip through the nearest opening, not wanting to run the risk of the creature being alerted by the squealing of rusty hinges, walking on his toes as he crept into one of the lavish suites. The décor in this one was similar to the rest, all leather furniture and crystal chandeliers, his eyes scanning the dark room as he searched for a hiding spot. The en-suite bathroom? No, too obvious.

The sound of huffing reached his ears, his pursuer sending a tremor through the floorboards with every step of its heavy feet as it neared. He recognized that sound from his dream, it had picked up his scent. With any luck, it would follow the trail back up the spiral staircase and leave him be.

There, a walk-in closet, as good a place to hide as any. He made his way across the moldy carpet, wincing at every noise that he made, no matter how faint. Like the other doors, this one was swollen with damp, but it was a sliding door that didn't need to be flush to its frame to close. There was no avoiding the sound that it would make as he moved it along its rusted, metal rail, but he was out of options. He tried to do it as quickly as possible, sliding the panel aside just enough that he could squeeze through and then closing it again. The interior of the closet was dark and musty, perhaps four feet by six feet, racks that had once held expensive suits and gowns still sporting a few rusted coat hangars. His presence disturbed the layer of dust that coated everything, sending it swirling into the air, Ethan covering his mouth as he tried to suppress a reflexive cough.

The thundering footsteps drew closer, the sound of creaking hinges announcing the beast's presence as it pushed the door aside. Ethan kept his hand over his mouth, the dust tickling his throat, the urge to cough making him gag silently.

There was a gap between the wall and the closet door where he could see through, his blood rushing in his ears as he pressed closer, compelled to look by a kind of morbid curiosity. Now that the full moon had been obscured by the dark clouds, the suite had been cast into gloom, but Ethan was still able to make out the shadowy figure due to the red glow emitted by its blazing eyes. They weren't as blinding as they had been in his nightmare, creating an effect more akin to an old darkroom for developing photographs as they bathed the suite in dull, crimson light.

As it ducked beneath the doorframe, its sheer size and mass jumped out at him. It was seven feet tall at least, its swept-back horns scraping the ceiling, its massive wings currently folded over its back. He had already admired the craftsmanship of one of the gargoyles up close, never imagining that they might get up and walk around, and so he was already familiar with its physique.

Like a Greek statue sculpted from marble, its muscles were clearly defined, cast into shadow by the red glare. They bulged from beneath its stone skin as it moved, the inanimate rock somehow flexible, despite the lichen that still clung to its grey surface. It had been drenched by the rain, droplets of water clinging to the thing almost like sweat, catching the red light as it strode into the room. A face somewhere between a lion and a dragon peered about the suite, its pointed ears flicking, its feline nose wrinkling as it sniffed the air. Its thick lips pulled back in a snarl, revealing its sharp fangs, a long tongue darting forth to wet them hungrily as it hunted.

As it moved deeper into the suite, he got a look at its winding tail, its arrowhead tip whipping through the air. He could feel its every footstep, reverberating up through the floor. How much must it weigh?

Ethan could tell where it was looking based on the light cast by its ruby-red eyes, like a pair of diffuse flashlight beams as it peered about the room. He had no idea how well it could sense him, what it could hear, what it could smell. Might the rapid beating of his heart give him away? He was too terrified to even breathe.

It moved out of view, but he could hear it opening the bathroom door, searching for him. Would it come to the closet next?

He held his breath as the footsteps neared, the rusted coat hangars bouncing on their racks, dust raining down on him from the ceiling. Red light bled through the gap beneath the door, the creature lingering on the other side, only inches away from him. But then it moved away, the thundering footfalls slowly growing fainter as it left the room. Ethan waited until he could be sure that it was out of earshot, finally releasing his breath, running trembling fingers through hair that was damp with cold sweat.

How close had it come to finding him? What would it have done if it had discovered his hiding place? Ethan peered through the gap in the door again, making sure that it wasn't just waiting for him to reveal himself, then gingerly slid the panel aside. God, he couldn't stop shaking, he felt like he had hypothermia.

There was no sound of footsteps now, the thing must have moved to a different room, and so he crept slowly out into the corridor. The beast had left wet footprints everywhere that it had trodden, its weight creating deep indents in the carpet. Its feet were larger than a person's, with three toes, its stone claws tearing the fabric in places.

He power-walked down the hallway, fearing that going any faster would alert the thing, the safety of the elevator soon in reach. He pressed the call button frantically, the doors opening torturously slowly, the mechanical grinding and the loud ding of a bell giving him away.

Like a cat hearing a can of tuna being opened, the monster came running, the floor shaking as it raced towards him. Ethan's head snapped around to look back as it barged into the corridor from one of the side rooms, tearing the door from its hinges and sending it crashing into the adjacent wall, dust billowing out behind it like an explosion. Those red eyes fixed on him, like a pair of crimson laser beams, the thing baring its teeth as it broke into a loping run. It was tall and wide enough to plug the corridor like a stone cork, its claws raking at the peeling wallpaper as it almost dragged itself along, no more than twenty feet from him now.

Ethan darted inside the elevator as soon as the doors were open, yanking the lever and hammering the ground floor button, standing face to face with the charging gargoyle. The aperture slowly narrowed, the red light cut off as the doors closed, the car lurching as it began to descend. The creature slammed into the wall above not a second later, making the elevator rock, a blood-curdling howl echoing down the shaft. He braced himself, expecting it to come crashing down on the roof of the car, but it didn't happen. Instead, the elevator continued to descend, the grinding of aged machinery the only sound now.

He collapsed onto the floor, loosing a sigh of relief as he leaned back against the padded wall behind him. The adrenaline was starting to fade now, leaving him worn-out and exhausted, he couldn't stop his hands from shaking. What the fuck was he doing? Chasing ghosts, running from monsters, whatever was going on here wasn't worth his life. No more, he was done. Come morning, he was going to hand in his resignation and get out of this place, his two weeks notice be damned. He'd rather deal with nightmares for the rest of his life than end up torn to pieces by a rampaging gargoyle.

When the car reached the lobby, he stepped out on legs that felt like they had turned to jelly, skulking near one of the marble pillars for a moment to ensure that nobody was around. When he was certain that the coast was clear, he marched back into Spencer's office and returned the keys to their rightful places.

Once that was done, he headed back up to his suite, intending to sleep off his fatigue.

CHAPTER 6: LEADEN SEAL

As Ethan walked along the carpeted hallway, the chandelier outside room two-five-three began to rock back and forth, as though it had been caught in a gust of wind. The electric bulbs flickered, eventually petering out to cast that section of the corridor into deep shadow, a cold draft seeming to creep its way along the floor towards him like a rolling mist. He was too exhausted to be scared now, and no ghost could rival the terror that he had just experienced.

There was an orange light in the gloom, the man in the cap's pallid face illuminated as he took a drag from a cigarette. He was leaning against the wall beside his door, the same way that Ethan had first seen him, but fully in-focus this time. His eyes were sunken, and his flesh had an unnatural tone, Ethan noting that there was dried blood on his forearms. He looked like he had been dead for days.

"I did what you asked," Ethan said, indignant. "I went up into the roof, but I didn't find any answers, just more questions."

"You're on the right track, flatfoot," the man replied as he peered at Ethan from beneath the brim of his newsboy cap.

"No, I'm done," Ethan snapped. "No more playing house dick. I almost died up there, and I'm no closer to understanding what's going on."

"You gotta follow through with your swing," the man began, but Ethan cut him off before he could finish the thought.

"What about I'm done do you not understand? I'm done being scared out of my wits, I'm done risking my life, I'm done chasing riddles. I didn't volunteer for this, and I'm not going to die and get trapped here forever, reliving my gruesome death for all eternity like the rest of you. I'm sorry, but I've done all that I can reasonably do to help you, and you won't even meet me halfway."

"I told you I didn't have all the answers," the man in the cap replied, tossing his cigarette and exhaling a plume of smoke. "Wouldn't be stuck in this joint if I did. Takes a lot of willpower for me to be here talkin' to you like this, gotta keep my head on straight, remember what's what. It's like I'm drownin' in molasses, and when I struggle to the surface to take a breath, I get a scant few seconds before I go back under again. Now you got me wastin' that precious time tellin' you to stop bein' a chump."

"Well, you can go find yourself another chump," Ethan replied as he marched past the specter. The lights began to flicker on again, the man in the cap's voice receding, like he was calling to Ethan from a great distance.

"Nobody glows as bright as you do, shamus..."

Ethan reached the door to his suite, not looking back as he stepped inside and closed it behind him, locking it for good measure. After waiting for a moment to make sure that the man in the cap had left, he made his way to the bedroom, willing to brave the nightmares if it meant that he could finally rest.

***

O-N-S-B-I-F-R.

It didn't make sense, Ethan running his fingers around the circular seal on the wooden pendant that he held in his hand. He was up in the spire again, but the proportions were all wrong. It extended so high above him that it vanished into inky darkness before he could see the top, the crisscrossing support beams now warped and twisted, far longer and thicker than they should be. It was more like looking up into the tangled branches of a jungle canopy now, the I-beams snaking around each other like vines. They were loaded with innumerable candles, burning with bright flames that made them stand out like beacons in the gloom, hot wax dripping as it melted over the rusted metal.

When he looked down, he saw that he was standing in the center of the five-pointed star, the runes that encircled it seeming to twist and move. It was as though they were in a state of flux, hazy and indistinct, spiraling around him. The seal on the pendant in his palm began to glow, as though a fire had been lit inside of it, the sound of faint voices reaching his ears.

They grew louder and louder, until, from the depths of the shadows that surrounded him, faces began to appear. They came in all shapes and sizes, all races and genders, their eyes sunken and dead. Everywhere he looked, there was a disembodied visage, their contorted expressions conveying terror and despair. Their whispering was unintelligible with so many of them speaking at once, yet he somehow knew what they wanted, as though their words were bypassing his ears completely and reaching into his mind.

"Help us..."

"I don't know how!" he wailed, the sigil on the pendant shining ever brighter. "I can't!"

"The leaden seal..."

From the pentagram erupted a forest of grasping hands, reaching up towards him as though the floor was no more solid than the surface of a lake. They were pallid and cold, their flesh grey and bloated, pale bone visible in places where it had started to peel away. As those dead fingers clawed at his slacks, dragging him down into the depths to join them, something appeared before him.

As if someone was lowering it from the beams above on a fishing line, another pendant emerged from the shadows, hanging on a length of hairy string. This one had been crudely pressed from grey metal, shaped like a large coin, more runes and symbols etched onto its face.

"Break the seal," the tortured voices moaned in a macabre chorus, Ethan sinking up to his knees in what felt like quicksand as those grasping hands crawled up to his belt. "Break the leaden seal..."

He reached out and gripped the pendant, a yell of fear and frustration rising in his throat as he tore it from its string.

***

Ethan awoke with a start, finding himself back in his bed. He wasn't even surprised anymore, he had expected a nightmare, and he wasn't going to let it get to him. After checking his phone to make sure that the day shift had begun, he started to pack his things, filling his duffle bag and slinging it over his shoulder. His mind was made up. As much as it bothered him to leave the staff with no facility manager, returning them to the sorry state in which he had found them, the choice was between that and death.

When he arrived in the lobby, he made his way to the front desk, where Spencer was waiting. The old man looked up at him as he arrived, his eyes shifting to the duffle bag.

"Are you planning on going somewhere, Mister Lewis?" he asked jokingly. Ethan didn't need to answer the question, the serious expression on his face told the whole story.

"I'm afraid that I'm here to give you my resignation," he said, the concierge sighing with exasperation.

"I had feared that this might happen, but you struck me as a reliable person, Mister Lewis. Your handling of our...unusual situation has been pragmatic and practical thus far. I'm disappointed, to say the least. I was beginning to believe that you might be the person who would dig us out of this hole, so to speak."

"My sincerest apologies," Ethan began, and he really meant it. "The situation here is very different from what I was led to believe when I took the job, and while I have made attempts to adjust, it's beyond my area of expertise."

"Have you made up your mind, then?" the old man asked.

"I have."

"I can't force you to stay," Spencer said with a shrug, "but perhaps you'll humor me for a few moments?"

Ethan had been dead set on getting out of the building as quickly as possible, but he couldn't deny the kindly old concierge, and so he nodded. Spencer stepped out from behind his desk and began to walk him across the lobby, the two of them eventually ending up over by the executive elevator.