The hotel sat hidden, vegetation grew sporadically around it. An elite get-a-way usually filled to maximum capacity with indoor and outdoor swimming pools, an eighteen-hole course, the greens scattered with prestigious statues. Forty years had passed since the owners closed for renovations. A few weed infested scissor lifts still stood raised.
I pulled my camera from its case. Handpicked for this job by the chief editor of the Windy Mills Tribune, having always been curious why no one returned to The Continental Crown to finish the work or claim the property left barren.
I forced my way through a broken door at the pool’s entrance. My strength filled grunt echoed through the hollow. Graffiti covered walls and empty syringes revealed a class downgrade in the people that now frequented the retreat. I was sure a giant hole in the ceiling gave off enough lighting to capture the images I desired. My work was cut out for me.
The meow from a stray cat sent chills down my spine. “Here kitty, kitty.” I called him with nothing to offer but a quick scratch under the chin. He purred at my touch and was then joined by thirty more felines. One by one they transformed to a height of at least seven feet, their luminescent eyes tugged at my soul, pulling me in nearer to the gang of now furless monsters ringing wet from melting skin. A foreign round metal object moved inside the building as it dragged them closer. My body went limp; paralyzed, they took me with them. The gnawing at my brain led to the realization of where everyone else had gone.
I snapped a photo as I entered the aircraft. My camera crashed to the floor. I hoped the film would be found so it could tell our story.
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Leesa Writes 