SOC #24: Night at the decrepit Hangover Hotel

"Abandon sobriety those who enter," was written on the wall in purple spray paint as we entered the stairwell from outside the abandoned hotel. With me was Josh and three of his friends: Ken, Mark, and Anthony. I held a flashlight and an eighteen pack of Lagunitas. Ken had two pizzas. Mark and Anthony held six packs of IPA's in each arm. I howled, "Any vacancies!" My voice echoed up the stairwell and all about the hopefully empty hotel. There was no answer. Josh said there might be others with their own booze. He said, "Cool, we got the place to ourselves. Fuckin' better be that way the rest of the night." I asked, "Which floor you guys want to go to?" Mark replied, "Tip top, brotha. The Presidential suite." Ken said, "There ain't no fucking Presidential suite in this shit hotel. We're not in New York, man. The place is only three stories high." I settled it, "Third floor then." We made our way to the third floor. Some of the doors to the rooms were open, and the ones that were closed weren't locked. The place had been abandoned ten years earlier due to a financial downfall, so the condition of the place wasn't as decrepit as most people thought. It was just the smell of the fucking place that was nasty. It smelled of piss, shit, and hopefully not poisonous mold, all intermingling with each other in the dusty atmosphere. I found a room that was the least smelly, due to the fact it's window had been smashed by previous party goers. There was still furniture in the room. The only things missing was a television, a mattress for the bed, and lamps. I looked about the floor of the room with the flashlight and saw syringes, condom wrappers, used condoms, and some beer cans and beer bottles. I warned, "Watch out for needles and condoms, comrades." Ken said, "Shit. Thanks, man. I almost sat down." I shined the flashlight on the dilapidating carpets for them as all three of them kicked away the trash, making themselves a clearing for the fresh batch of beers. Luckily there were usable chairs still in the hotel for us to sit. I checked out the graffiti on the walls and found something that seemed out of place from the rest of the symbols. I said, "Hey, Josh, check it out." Opening a beer, he looked at what I shined the flashlight on. He said, "You don't usually see that in places like this. I mean, maybe a pentagram, but not Jesus on the cross." I said, "We picked the right room. Like seeing a shooting star explode in space." Anthony said, "What the fuck you blathering about, fool?" I turned to him, gesturing to the drawing of Jesus, saying, "It's a sign, Anthony. Go to church tomorrow. All of us must go to church, and confess our sins." Anthony gave me the finger, and said, "I got no fucking sins." I yelled in a faux-sermon, "Don't make sign of false idols in the presence of our Lord and Savior." I stopped the preaching tone. "Now give me a beer, please." Anthony tossed me a Lagunitas. I said, "Thank you, sir." I opened it, then held it up to Christ. "Here's to you. Thanks for dying." Later on, I think when I was on my sixth beer, we started a game of throwing Ken's pocket knife at the image of Jesus on the cross. If we weren't able to make it stick in the wall, or if we missed Jesus completely, we had to chug the rest of our beer. At one point while I was downing my beer, Anthony smacked me in the nuts, and to his disappointment, I still finished it without any spillage. He said, "Damn, fool." I said, "I can't feel my body, you idiot." We all laughed in unison. Later, in our drunken haze, we explored the hotel. As we made our way down each hall, looking into each room, Josh told us a tale of why the hotel was really closed down. He said, "It wasn't because the owner went bankrupt or some shit like that, there was a murder here. A woman was tortured and killed by a Witch in a room on the second floor. This floor." Ken said, "A fucking Witch?! It's the twenty-first century, man. There aren't witches these days, just bitches." Josh said, "No, I'm serious. The bitch practiced Satanic witchcraft. She got a prostitute from craigslist, one who plays on both teams, and performed something called 'The Blue Sacrifice.'" Mark said, "Yeah, I heard about it too. And I know which room it happened in. It's the one at the end of the hall, on the left. The Witch got caught because she got carried away and sloppy. A pool of blood formed at the bottom of the door. A guy was leaving his room and saw it, then called the cops." I said, "Bullshit." We arrived at the room Mark said the murder occurred. The door was closed. I shined the flashlight on the foot of the door, and there was a dark stain in the old carpet. Ken said, "Whoa. You were right, Josh." Anthony said, "Fuck this," and ran down the hallway. Mark told me, "Open it. Lets see if they left the body inside." I turned the door knob, but before I even pushed open the door, it was pulled from my grasp from the other side. A woman with long black hair, and wearing a blue dress jumped at us from the dark room, screaming, and reaching out for us. We took the fuck off down the hallway. I screamed, "The fuck, fuck, FUUUUCK!" I woke up. Sorry to disappoint, but that didn't happen. HA! HA! We simply got horribly drunk, and passed out. My head hurt as if it were being crushed, and a used condom was stuck on my cheek as I sat up on the floor. The sun shined through the broken window right on my face. I said aloud, "This is the last time I hang out with kids under twenty-one. Who's fucking idea was it to party at an abandoned hotel? I mean, what the fuck?" Josh, in his sleep, said, "Keep it down. Me sleep." He was curled up on the floor in the corner of the room. He turned over, and I saw a syringe stuck in his arm.