It can’t see me if I can’t see it

A tuna drifted past the window, flicking its tail lazily as it did.

Leaning forward, James touched the glass gingerly. It was still hard to believe it wouldn’t shatter, and he found staring out into the ocean as unnerving as he did exhilarating.

The porter let him dawdle for a few seconds before politely clearing his throat.

“If you follow me, sir, we’re nearly there.”

They continued down the long corridor, James restraining himself each time they passed a small round window. He pulled his case along the carpet, the light cut off each time they passed a door.

The porter came to an abrupt stop and produced a black card in place of a key. As he slotted it smoothly into a wall socket, the door swung open to reveal a glass dome encasing a bed, a desk, and two leather armchairs. James dragged his bag over the threshold and surveyed the hotel room in awe.

It was made entirely of glass; and with the sun still high, he had a clear view of the surrounding ocean. A shoal of fish flitted overhead, casting shadows across him as they went.

He turned to the porter who was waiting politely by the door.

“Are there any other guests?”

The porter shook his head, smiling.

“Just you, sir. It’s exclusive.”

James nodded, taking another long look around the room.

“So I’m the first person to stay here?”

The porter’s smile dropped slightly; he looked uncertain.

“I just mean because there’re no reviews. Online. I thought the hotel was new.”

The porter’s smile returned, but his eyes were still wary.

“No, not a new hotel sir. But guests, they forget the reviews. Will you be taking dinner in the restaurant?”

James turned back to the room, shaking his head.

“No, thanks. I don’t want to miss the sharks.” He turned back to the porter, self-consciously. “Sharks swim at night, I just don’t want to miss it, is what I mean. I’ll probably get room service, thanks.”

The porter nodded, excusing himself from the room and closing the door.

Moving to sit cross-legged on the bed, James gazed upward, marveling again at his luck.

To win money on a scratch card was one thing, but to win $20,000 was something else. And as a man who believed in fate, when he’d received an email for a hugely discounted room in one of the world's most unique hotels, he’d taken it as a sign.

Unzipping his back, he rifled through, until eventually, he located his small black notebook. He flipped through the pages until he found the one he was looking for.

‘Sleep in an underwater hotel’

He circled it slowly, savoring the moment. It was the last thing he thought he’d mark off his bucket list; and yet here he was. He ran his finger across the page, tracing the lines he’d marked out for a photograph. Letting out a breath, he closed the book with a snap, and then lay back on the bed, watching a small ray glide past slowly.

He really couldn’t believe his luck.

****

Laying on his back, James gazed up towards the ceiling, thinking. Overhead, a tangle of bodies glided over the glass, illuminated by the soft light of the setting sun.

He’d assumed that the hotel had been priced so low because it was new. Considering the complete lack of reviews, it had made sense. But the porter seemed to think he was far from the first guest; so why was the hotel empty?

A strange feeling washed over him, and he looked around apprehensively. It was an odd experience, staying somewhere so exposed; almost like being in a fishbowl.

He found it unsettling to think about, so instead turned his mind to the movement above him.

A chance to see sharks during the night at their most active was rare; seeing them like this was unparalleled. He squinted at them, trying to make out the exact shapes. Reaching for his phone, he angled it for a picture, but he couldn’t get a clear shot and his battery was almost out.

He leaned over to plug it in, yawning. It had been a long day and he was tired but didn’t want to miss the sharks lster at their most active. He set an alarm for two hours time and watched the dregs of the sun flicker through the shapes above before closing his eyes with a small smile.

****

James jolted awake.

The room was dark and silent; he listened for his alarm. Nothing.

Reaching towards his phone, he found it blank and unresponsive.

Sitting up in bed, he looked around for a clock or light switch. The soft lights lining the outside of the room were dead and the digital alarm was just a black screen.

Cursing, James pushed himself off the bed and walked toward the door. He twisted the handle and pulled, but nothing happened. There had seemingly been a power outage in the hotel - he was locked inside.

James turned back into the room, still disoriented from sleep. Moonlight shone down from above, and he looked around, unable to shake a feeling that something wasn’t right.

Everything in the room was as it should be; save the power and the door. James shivered; the temperature had dropped significantly since he had woken, and a chill hung in the air. He looked up at the moon, and a shiver of unease ran through him.

There were no sharks.

The ocean was empty, save for the moonlight filtering down and James in his small glass room.

Trying not to panic, he sat on the bed, taking a deep breath. And then suddenly, there it was again. That strange feeling, the tingle on the back of his neck.

Someone was watching him.

James moved his head slowly to the side, keeping his body still. He looked out into the ocean, his eyes straining in the darkness. His breathing was loud in the quiet room, his heart thumping loudly to keep time.

Just as he began to think fear was getting the best of him, a flicker of movement to his right brought his head round sharply.

Somewhere in the ocean, just a little too far away to make out, a shape was outlined against the darkness. James sat motionless, staring towards it. From this distance, it could be a marine animal - but there was something about its stillness that told him otherwise.

James felt himself break out in a cold sweat, unable to move. He didn’t know if the shape could see him, and even if it could, there was nowhere to hide. Just as he had decided to crawl slowly under the blankets for cover, the shape shifted forward, and the room went black.

The moon had been eclipsed by a cloud.

The wave of fear that rocked James was so fierce he was almost sick. Diving onto the bed and wrenching the duvet over himself, he closed his eyes and prayed to wake up.

The room stayed silent, and all James could hear was his breath, coming out in ragged gasps.

He lay still, trying to muster the courage to glance outside his makeshift armor. He could only hope that the pitch darkness was as much his friend as his enemy.

And then a thin scratching sound cut through the night, paralyzing him with dread.

Whatever the shape was, it was directly outside the glass, watching him shake beneath his blanket.

James lay motionless, paralyzed, while the scratching continued in long, thin intervals.

There was nothing he knew of in the ocean that could make that sound, and he couldn’t stand to look up and latch eyes with whatever stood on the other side of the glass.

A sudden buzzing blared inside the room, and James jerked violently in response, throwing the blanket off to face it.

The power had been restored, flooding the room with light; his phone was vibrating loudly on the nightstand. He whirled around, scanning the surrounding ocean, but there was nothing.

He sat down heavily, relief rushing over him like warm water. Had he imagined everything? Driven himself to terror like a child without the lights?

With a sudden urgency, he rushed to the door and flung it open. The corridor stretched out, warm lights glowing between each round window.

He stepped out into it, wishing another guest would materialize and reassure him.

Then, without warning, the lights shut out, and he was once again plunged into complete darkness. His brief respite forgotten, fear gripped him again, and he turned towards his room.

His eyes were slowly adjusting to see the moonlight was back, and he made a quick decision that the corridor was better than the complete exposure of the dome.

He remembered seeing a staircase on his way to the room that was completely enclosed, safe from prying eyes and unknown shapes. He started down the long corridor ahead, each window shining little breaks of moonlight on the darkness.

He took one step forward, stopping just short of the next window.

The thought of turning and seeing something staring in from the other side was more than he could stomach.

His old childhood mantra was welling up; It can’t see me if I can’t see it.

Keeping his eyes firmly on the end of the corridor, he took a small, trembling step. Then another took him safely past the first window, and he let out a shuddering breath.

Slowly, one foot behind the other, he crept along the corridor for what felt like an eternity, light-headed in his fear.

As he neared the end of the corridor, he stepped into the faint light of one of the windows, and a long, thin scratch sounded from directly beside him.

Frozen, His heart in his mouth, James was too terrified even to scream.

He kept his eyes ahead and plunged forward into the dark corridor, running so fast he almost fell. He mounted the stairs two at a time, until he found a small alcove three flights up, far from the view of any windows or any glass.

Curling himself into a ball, he shielded his eyes and tryed not to sob. He stayed that way even as the lights came back on; eyes closed, head down, begging for the morning.

****

“How was your stay, sir?”

James stared at the porter with red-rimmed eyes; the man smiled back at him politely. There was no mention of the power cut, no indication that anything had been wrong.

In the light of day, James was almost convinced he had imagined it all. Everything seemed innocent once he’d crept back to his day-lit room, and the hotel was once again surrounded by small fish and life.

But as he’d looked up towards the ocean while packing his notebook into his bag, his eyes had focused in on a set of scratches running across the glass.

He’d stared silently at them for several minutes, then, pulled the notebook back out of the back. Finding the page he’d circled so proudly the night before, he gripped it and tore it out. Ripping it into small shreds, he let it fall to the floor, taking his bag and walking slowly out into the corridor.

“It was…fine.”

James looked away from the porter, tightening his grip on his bag.

“Very good, sir.”

The Porter reached out a hand for his bag.

“Would you like me to load those into the boat?”

James nodded, rubbing his eyes. The porter started pulling the case, then turned back with another smile.

“We have also organized a special boat for you, sir. To enhance the experience.”

James nodded, trying to force a smile.

“It has a glass bottom, sir. You can see everything.”

The porter walked off with the cases, leaving James standing on the dock alone.