>>3778130>da jarty hotelThe heavy oak doors of the Jarty Hotel groaned shut behind Mark, sealing him off from the howling storm outside. The lobby smelled strongly of damp carpet and faint, chemical ozone. It was bad-leaking roof tiles, flickering fluorescent lights, and a general vibe of deep, unsettling dread.
He didn't want to be here, but his car had broken down miles back.
"Room 404," the receptionist croaked, handing him a tarnished brass key without ever looking up from his paper.
Mark took the stairs, his footsteps echoing unnaturally. As he reached the third-floor landing, he froze.
Standing near the elevator was a towering figure in an oversized, patched-up coat. A faint, greenish vapor seemed to curl out from the hem of his trousers and sleeves. This was the infamous Letehl Gassing Gassy Man. As the man took a slow, heavy step forward, an unbearable, sulfurous stench filled the hallway, making Mark's eyes water and his throat burn. Mark held his breath, pressed his back against the wall, and scrambled past as the toxic cloud expanded behind him.
Heart pounding, he practically sprinted up the final flight of stairs to the fourth floor.
He shoved his key into Room 404, burst inside, and slammed the door shut, locking it tight. He leaned against the wood, gasping for fresh air.
Click.
The room went pitch black as the power cut out.
Mark pulled out his phone, flipping on the weak flashlight. He swept the beam across the small, dingy bedroom-and stopped dead in his tracks.
Standing motionless by the rain-slicked window was a tall woman. She was turned entirely toward the glass, her forehead almost touching it, staring blankly out into the abyss of the storm. Flanking her on either side were two massive dogs. They were jet-black, completely still, and sat perfectly erect-except their eyes reflected the phone light in a sickly crimson glow.
Neither the woman nor the dogs moved. They didn't blink. They just stared into the night.
"Um… excuse me?" Mark whispered, his voice trembling. "Is this… your room?"
The woman didn't answer. Slowly, without turning her head, both of the dogs turned their necks in unison to face Mark. Their jaws peeled back, revealing rows of needle-thin teeth in a silent, menacing grin.
Then came the soft, unmistakable hiss from beneath the door frame behind him. Green, foul gas began to seep into the room.
Mark didn't wait to see what happened next. He threw open the door, lunged past the lingering fumes, and ran down the stairs, leaving the Jarty Hotel behind for good.