Whispers

I shivered as I looked up at the out of place mountains. This town gave me the creeps, and I couldn't wait to get out of it. 1

The hotel clerk seemed nice enough, but his glazed eyes and milky skin almost made him look dead, and he wasn't even looking at me when he smiled and welcomed me in.2

Later, I woke up to the sound of heavy breathing by me. I jolted my hand to the light switch and turned it on, the sudden light burning my eyes. The door slammed and I thought I heard whispers behind it. 3

I sat more still than I would have thought possible, the only noise in my ears now my erratic heartbeat. All other noises faded, even the mountain wind stilled. 4

I felt the hand before it actually touched me. The cold radiated off it like a knife coated in ice. It came out of the silence, as rapidly as a viper, and covered my mouth, while another covered my eyes, and many more freezing fingers clutched my body and pressed it down to the bed. The whispers began again, like a crowd of people was watching me in my room. My thoughts halfheartedly went back to the deadness of the eyes I had seen earlier.5

I don't remember the next events, though when I woke, I was in a dark chamber, stenching of many other bodies as myself, all huddled together like cattle. Moonlight drifted in from a grate in the ceiling, and we cooed happily. A door opened and we emptied into the street sleepily, ready to feed.