Visitation

The knock at the door was so quiet that Jennie thought she was hearing things through the increasing wind and rain. Just as she turned back to the headache-inducing spreadsheet on the computer screen, she heard it again. It was unmistakable this time.

Behind Jennie, Curtis squinted at his own screen that was covered from edge to edge with security footage. “Who the hell is that?” He tapped at the screen with a long finger.

Jennie moved her chair back. Four people were standing at the door, two men and two women. “You can’t be serious. Right before a hurricane?” she groaned.

“Must have gotten lost,” Curtis offered.

“Piss poor timing.” Jennie stood, leaving the office and walking to the reception area. Her anger ebbed as she saw the inn’s owners, Tom and Louise Westmoreland, leaving the ‘employees only’ door to the kitchen.

“Was that a knock?” Louise asked, wringing her hands nervously. “Storm’s getting bad. I hope they’re not stranded.”

Jennie nodded, crossing the lobby to the front door. “There’s four of them. Do we even have openings right now?”

“Of course,” Louise said with an accusatory look. “We’re not gonna let them suffer in a storm.”

Instead of arguing, Jennie unlocked the large, ornate door. The wind almost blew it from her grasp, but she steadied herself against it. She surveyed the soaked strangers before her, putting on a weary smile. “Hello?”

The small group looked as though they hadn’t expected anyone to answer. For a moment, they exchanged glances between each other. Finally, one of the women, her long curly blonde hair plastered to her face, spoke up. “We, uh, got lost trying to get to Greenfield for their Fall Festival.”

“That’s dang near fifty miles out,” Jennie chuffed before she could stop herself. “Need somewhere to ride out the storm?”

“Yes, please,” one of the men with a short stocky build nodded with a wheezy voice. “We thought we could beat it, but it rolled in quick.”

“You thought we could beat it,” the other man, tall with dreadlocks, mumbled.

Jennie knew it was a bad idea, but she didn’t want to be part of the stereotypical, “small town hates anything unfamiliar” trope. She glanced behind her to see that Tom was already pulling fresh sheets and towels from the supply closet. “Come on in,” she said, stepping back and allowing the small group to pass through.

Something felt wrong, sending a prickle of unease down her spine.

At the office door, Curtis was joined by Derrick, who worked in the kitchen. They both watched intently behind Louise, who was bent over the reception desks’ computer.

“Two rooms available,” the old woman said, shaking her head, “but they’re not near each other. 205 and 114.”

“We’ll take what we can get,” the stocky man shrugged.

Jennie caught an odd look on Curtis’ face as she passed. He took some of the towels from her arms and followed her up the stairs to room 205.

“They smell wrong,” he said bluntly once they were safely inside.

“Come on,” Jennie scoffed.

“You felt it too. They’re not right.”

“It’s just the storm and the weird air pressure from the hurricane.” Jennie failed at even convincing herself with that one.

Curtis snickered incredulously as he took the towels to the small ensuite bathroom. “Sure, sweetheart.”

Jennie pursed her lips as she and Curtis smoothed the sheets over the two worn queen-sized mattresses. “Why would someone come here to cause trouble?”

“You know why.”

***

The visitors were strangely demanding for the first few hours. The two women, Lacie and Danielle, complained of low water pressure and needed to ensure all of the vegan food from Derrick’s kitchen didn’t even come near animal byproducts. The two men, Mitch and Rob, complained of an odor no one else could detect and inadequate lighting. Even Louise’s friendly demeanor slipped as midnight came and went.

“I would expect a bit more gratitude,” Louise muttered as she carried the third attempt at a meal to room 205 where Danielle and Lacie were staying.

“That’s city folk, my love,” Tom said, finally getting a reprieve from explaining that he could not do extensive repair work in the middle of the night, much less during a category 3 hurricane. “No offense, Jen.”

“This ain’t about the city,” Jennie retorted. “This is just bad home training.”

Finally, at a quarter past one in the morning, the calls and demands ceased and Jennie was able to settle into her own apartment within the hotel. She brushed her teeth, washed her face and immediately climbed into bed, praying that the newcomers would leave as soon as the storm allowed. The rain pounding

But she awoke a few hours later, gripped with panic. At first she thought she’d had a nightmare, but it was quickly apparent that something was absolutely wrong. Jennie looked around and saw the issue immediately: there was someone in her room.

“Hey!” she shouted.

The figure lunged at her with an impossible speed, but Jennie was quicker. Her hand glowed as she pulled kinetic energy from the atmosphere around her - easier now that there was a hurricane overhead. With a quick flick of her wrist, she hurled the energy at the figure, sending it crashing into the wall of her bedroom.

Her closet door opened in the commotion. Before Jennie could say, “It’s handled,” small, glowing creatures exited to survey the scene. Great! They woke up the fairies, Jennie thought with dread.

Ignoring the fairies for now, Jennie clamored out of bed and used energy to lift the figure up. It was Lacie, the woman who had been picky about her food. She struggled against Jennie’s power, her eyes bulging behind her glasses.

“What are you doing in my apartment?” Jennie demanded. As she lingered, she realized Curtis had been right: they didn’t smell right. It was a light scent of ammonia and…cinnamon?

“You’re not normal,” Lacie hissed. Her eyes were changing, becoming darker.

“You aren’t either,” Jennie countered. “Reveal yourself.” She hissed the command, her power amplified by the fairies now surrounding her. In their glow, she watched as Lacie’s disguise faltered and slipped to the floor with a wet plop. What now hovered before her was a thin, gray creature with a large head and bulbous eyes.

“What are you?” the Lacie creature demanded, struggling against its invisible restraints.

“Really tired of your shit. And a witch,” Jennie replied coolly. She took the energy tether and dragged Lacie out into the hallway, uncaring that she was barefoot and in her pajamas. She and the fairies went to the lobby, where Louise and Tom had already immobilized the other three Grays with Louise’s containment spell. Mothman and the Jersey Devil hovered in the rafters, glaring at the visitors who had disturbed their slumber.

“Ah, there’s the other one,” Louise chirped in her housecoat. Beside her, a sasquatch grunted in annoyance. Louise patted him on the back. “See? We’ve rounded them up. No more disturbances.”

“What happened with y’all?” Jennie asked as the fairies took to checking the visitors' pockets and luggage for valuables.

Tom chuckled. “These little fools decided they’d try to abduct a whole hotel of humans. Didn’t go so well.”

Derrick emerged from the front office, still in werewolf form. “Good call on the security upgrades, Jennie.”

“I told you someone would figure things out eventually, but I thought it’d be mortals.” Jennie dropped Lacie on the floor next to her companions.

“What do we do now? Can we feed them to the Frogman?” Curtis said, leaning against the office door. Frogman nodded enthusiastically beside him.

“No. They need to phone home,” Tom said with barely contained satisfaction.

A collective groan rolled through the lobby.