Welcome to the Hotel Canfield

"Dude, this is epic!" Cole's dazzling hazel eyes boggled out of his skull, his pale, freckly cheeks stretching in an absolutely giddy grin. The seventeen-year-old hadn't even gotten out of the car yet, and he was already about to wet himself from excitement. Just seeing that look on his face almost made this entire, crazy idea worth it.

Almost.

Everyone in town knew to avoid the Hotel Canfield. Everyone with sense anyway. The dilapidated, brown-brick building was almost as old as the town itself, built when most of Iowa had more frontier settlements than cities. It was condemned way before Brian and Cole were ever born, but the old folks refused to let it be torn down. Honestly, they were probably too afraid to.

Brian had never been the superstitious type, but he'd heard enough stories about the Hotel Canfield to give him pause. Most involved Cyrus Canfield himself - the man who built and ran the place back in 1850, shortly before being murdered by a guest - or his young wife, Matilda, who tragically died giving birth to their only son. Other stories he'd heard featured something darker; an unknown, unnamed terror that haunted those decaying halls. No one really knew for sure what it was, because no one who allegedly encountered it ever dared to speak about it. They were never the same afterwards; walking around like zombies - mere shells of who they used to be - looking over their shoulders everywhere they went. Within a month of their experience, most wound up moving out of town entirely.

Although he didn't believe in ghosts, the building itself was reason enough not to go poking around in there. The place was practically falling in: crumbling, moss-covered walls; broken windows; a roof partially demolished by time, weather, and rot. Even for those who didn't believe the local legends like Brian, the signs posted all over the front door by the city council and police department were deterrent enough.

They'd come this far, though, so Brian couldn't back out now. Cole would never let him hear the end of it if he did. Yes, it was stupid and dangerous, and probably a huge waste of time... but Cole looked so happy. Besides, who wouldn't be willing to do anything to impress a boy they liked?

"You've got the video camera, right?"

Brian blinked his deep-set golden brown eyes, shaken from his thoughts by Cole's question. The towheaded teen had his backpack on his lap, digging through all the equipment he'd brought: a mini tape recorder, headphones, some light-up cat toys, an old Polaroid instant camera, etc. Basically, everything an amateur ghost hunter might need or want in their arsenal. Odds were they wouldn't catch anything, but that never dulled Cole's perpetual optimism. And, gosh, was optimism a good look on him.

"Uh, yeah," Brian muttered, running a hand over his thick, bleach-tipped twists, as he cleared his throat. Hoping that Cole hadn't heard the anxious crack in it. "I think its in my bag. Plus we've got our phones as back-ups."

"Sweet," Cole crowed, rubbing his hands together with that infectious grin of his, "What're we waiting for then?!"

He was out of the car with his bag of gear in hand before Brian could say another word. Not wanting to be left alone in a dark, creepy, overgrown parking lot by himself, Brian hurried to grab his bag from the back seat and followed suit. His breath plumed before his nose in the cold, October night air as he paused, looking up at the intimidating old building. Seeing it from the safety of his mom's old Pontiac was one thing: doing it up close and in person was another story altogether.

Every instinct told him to run back to the car and get the heck out of there. There were other ways to spend Halloween Night, after all. Ways that involved popcorn and cozy blankets, and cuddling on the couch in front of the TV. Yet here he was: freezing his butt off on the edge of town, about to spend the next few hours of his life poking around in a barely-standing building full of asbestos, mold, and tetanus. At least he'd be with Cole, though. That was the only thing that got him this far to begin with.

Cole didn't seem to notice Brian's hesitation, as he'd already jogged up the front steps while Brian was still frozen in place by the car. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight, glinting with pure joy and excitement, as he jimmied the lock with his pocket knife. In two seconds, he had it open. He turned at the last minute as he slipped through those heavy oak doors, giggling like he didn't have a care in the world, and beckoned Brian to hurry up after him.

"C'mon," he whisper-yelled, "you gotta see this, Dude! Go ahead and start filming; our subscribers will flip over this!"

He was so brave. Brian wished he could be half as fearless as Cole. The only thing stronger than that boy's nerve was his obliviousness of Brian's feelings toward him. After a moment, Brian shook off his dread and bounced on his toes, trying to hype himself up. If Cole could do this, so could he. Everything was going to be fine, as long as they stuck together. Lingering just a second longer to take a deep breath, Brian fished his camera out of his bag and followed Cole inside.

The red recording light was already glowing when Brian took his first step into the Hotel Canfield. His nose wrinkled with a groan as the stale, musty air hit him in the face like a baseball bat. Although he tried to be quiet and hold the camera steady, he couldn't hold back a sneeze.

"Man," he sniffed, coughing a little on the dust-clogged air, "somebody needs to run a Swiffer through this place."

He hoped to get a laugh - or at least an amused snort - out of Cole, but the other boy was just standing in the middle of the lobby. Brian had never seen Cole so quiet, his pale face practically glowing in the dark as he soaked in every inch of their surroundings. There wasn't all that much to see, though, except for a termite-infested desk, a few chairs covered in dusty sheets, and a chandelier overhead that was more cobwebs than crystal. The beam of Cole's flashlight wove through the chandelier, filling the room with soft yellow light. All the dust particles danced and sparkled whenever the light touched them, forming a halo of golden flecks around Cole. Brian swallowed hard at the sight, wetting his suddenly dry lips, as his free hand moved automatically to his quivering stomach.

What gave Cole the right to be that hot?

"Do you feel that?"

The other boy's question was whispered so softly, Brian almost didn't hear it. He crept a little closer across the half-rotted floor, focusing the camera on Cole. "What?" he muttered stupidly.

Cole tore his gaze from the ceiling after a moment, his eyes wide with awe. "The air," he said, a little louder but still in a hushed, reverent tone. "Dude... it's so cold in here. Like, a billion degrees below zero! You know what that means, right?"

"Um... someone forgot to pay their heating bill?" Brian joked, doing his best to smile through his nerves. That, at least, earned a chuckle.

"Man, I love you when you play dumb," Cole grinned, wiping a mirthful tear from his eyes, "I'm talking about ghosts, Dude! It's, like, their energy or something, sucking up all the heat out of places." His eye shifted to the camera lens suddenly, apparently just realizing Brian was recording, and in a second he was hyped all over again. "Okay: I'm gonna do the intro now. Let's get this party started!"

Brian was still reeling over Cole's first comment, barely paying attention to anything after it. "I love you when you play dumb." Sure, it could've just been a harmless rib... but what if it wasn't? Could Cole actually have feelings for him, too?

"Uh... Earth to Brian," Cole called, whistling as he waved to get Brian's attention. "You good, Bro? Don't go spacing out on me now; we got a video to film!"

"H-Huh?! Oh... yeah," Brian mumbled, shaking off his jittery thoughts, "Ready when you are."

Cole just smiled back, holding up three fingers that he lowered one at a time silently. When he got to zero, he spun in a circle and finger-pointed both hands sharply at the camera.

"What is up, my peeps and geeks?!" he crowed, "Welcome to our Halloween Spook-Tacular Special! We have something very special planned for you tonight, folks, I guarantee. My guy Brian and I are coming to you not-so-live from the most haunted place in all of Rivertown, IA: the Hotel Canfield! So, stay tuned - if you dare - because we're checking in... and we're not checking out until morning!"

"What?!" Brian blurted, nearly dropping the camera out of shock, "Dude, that's not what I signed up for! I told my mom I'd be home by midnight!"

"Bri-ann!" Cole whined, running a hand through his messy blond locks and down his face, "You ruined my take! Now I gotta start all over again."

"First, you better promise me that we're not staying overnight," Brian insisted firmly. "It's too dangerous... besides, this place is giving me all kinds of creeps."

"It's fine," Cole argued, waving off Brian's worries with a shrug. "C'mon, where's your sense of adventure?"

Brian was nanoseconds away from telling Cole he had none when he instinctually lowered his gaze, focusing on the camera's viewfinder again. Instead of words, Brian's heart leapt into his mouth a moment later. Someone was standing right behind Cole: a woman, with long dark hair and a old-timely black dress... and she didn't have a face.

With an embarrassingly high-pitched yelp, Brian stumbled backward, tripping over his own sneakers. The camera tumbled from his grip as he landed hard on his butt, but he didn't notice. He was too busy staring at Cole, his eyes wide with terror. Confusion set in quickly behind his fear, however, when he realized the woman he saw on the camera wasn't there.

"Brian!" Cole rushed over to him in a heartbeat, offering him a worried hand up, "Are you okay?! What happened?"

Brian looked from Cole to the empty air on the other side of the lobby and back a few times. His thoughts were racing faster than his heart, trying to make sense of what he saw.

"I... I don't know," he panted, picking up the camera with shaking hands. "There was... s-somebody with you... i-in the frame."

Cole's eyes grew wide, but he didn't look a bit scared. "You actually caught a ghost on camera?!" he squealed, "A real live ghost?! Dude, that's sick! C'mon, lemme see!!"

Fighting every instinct to flee, Brian pushed the button on the side of the camera to play back what he just recorded. No matter how many times he pushed it, though, the viewfinder stayed dark. For a second he was worried that it was broken, until he figured out what the problem was.

"The battery's dead," Brian groaned, shaking his head. "I don't get it: I swear, I charged it all day."

Cole's lips formed a silent "oh" as he looked around the lobby again. "The ghost did it," he breathed, his tone heavy with awe, "I've heard they can do stuff like that! Here: use my phone to record instead!"

Brian just looked at the phone Cole offered him, rubbing his sore tailbone with a wince. "Cole... I'm sorry," he said, "but I think we should just call it a night. Something's wrong with this place, Man. Let's just cut our losses, and film ourselves carving a pumpkin or something instead."

Cole's expression changed in a heartbeat, staring at Brian like he suddenly sprouted an extra head. "We're standing in the literal center of Spooksville," he frowned, "Population: us! We could go viral with this place... and you want to go back home like a pansy and carve a stupid pumpkin?! What is the matter with you?!"

Brian felt his heart crumble to dust in his chest, swallowing hard a few times. As much as it hurt, he held his ground. "I'm not a pansy," he muttered. "It's just not worth it. Please, come back home with me. I'll do whatever you want: react to horror movies, eat candy until I puke, shave a jack-o-lantern into my head, anything! Just... not this."

"Fine," Cole snapped, grabbing Brian's backpack off the floor and shoving it into the taller boy's arms, "If you want to punk out on me, be my guest! I'll just finish it by myself. Come back at seven tomorrow morning and pick me up... unless you're too chicken!"

"Cole, wait-" Brian started, but Cole was already pushing him out the door. Despite his sputtering protests, Brian was forced back onto the hotel's front stoop within a minute. When he heard the doors lock behind him, he just sighed. There was no point arguing with Cole now. Brian had stepped in it big time, but in his heart and soul he knew he'd made the right choice. Maybe after Cole had the chance to cool off, he'd realize Brian was right.

As Brian turned reluctantly to head back to the car, a muffled scream echoed through the doors. A chill raced down his back at Mach 1 at the noise, because he recognized the scream immediately as Cole's. Brian hurried to throw the doors open again, swearing under his breath when he remembered they were locked. He rattled the handles in a panic, trying to rip those doors off their rusty old hinges if he had to, but they didn't budge an inch.

"Cole!" he shouted, hammering on the doors with both fists, "Cole, are you okay?! Let me in, please!! Cole?!"

After beating and yanking on the doors for what felt like an hour, Brian's breath caught in his throat as the lock gave a sudden, crisp click. With no effort at all, both doors swung open with a melancholy chorus of groans. Brian froze in place for a second when they did, shivering at a gust of cold, stale wind blowing through his hair from inside the hotel. It was like looking into the jaws of a huge animal, ready to swallow him up whole. Shaking from head to toe and soaked with sweat, Brian swallowed his nerves yet again and cautiously stepped through them.

The lobby was quiet and completely empty. There was no sign of Cole anywhere, except his flashlight left flickering on the floor. Brian scooped it up right away, banging on it until the beam steadied, then swept the light quickly across the cavernous room.

"Cole?" he called, his voice a thin, anxious squeak ringing through the dark. "Where are you? Cole, this ain't funny, Man... Please, tell me you're okay!"

After scanning the floor for a few long, agonizing minutes, Brian found a set of sneaker prints in the dust. He followed them to the staircase on the far side of the room, gulping before heading up himself. He wasn't even sure those worm-eaten steps would hold his weight, flinching and gasping every time he felt one buckle under his foot.

The footprints continued across the second floor's moth-eaten carpet when he got to the top of the stairs, creating a zig-zag pattern down the hall. Brian's heart pounded behind his tonsils as he slowly traced the footprints with his eyes, not liking the picture they painted. It was as if someone - or something - had chased Cole up here, forcing him to try every door in his panic to get away. The trail stopped at room 109, the very last room on the right hand side.

Brian froze at room 109's slightly ajar door, so scared he had to remind himself to breathe. It sat crooked on its hinges, because the bottom one was broken. Deep gouges scoured the entire surface of the wood, some of which went all the way through to the other side. Brian didn't want to think about what could have made them... but he couldn't help thinking that it had to be huge.

Soft sniffling wafted quietly through the gaps in the door, which was the only thing that made Brian open it. Before he lost his nerve entirely, he followed the sound across the room to the closet. It opened easily, not even squeaking in protest, revealing Cole seated on the floor with his back to the wall inside. Brian exhaled for the first time in minutes, glad to see that his friend was okay. A few seconds later, though, when he got a good look at Cole, the bottom fell out of Brian's stomach.

Cole was huddled up tight in the fetal position, clutching his backpack like a little kid might hug their favorite teddy bear. His eyes were wide and wild, still streaming with tears, and his freckly face was stark white. Cole didn't even look at Brian when he opened the door; his eyes were glazed and unfocused, like he was trapped in his own little world. He didn't move or make the tiniest peep until Brian touched his shoulder.

With a hoarse half-shriek, Cole jumped out of his skin like he'd been jabbed with a cattle prod and snapped his head up. For half a second, it was as if he didn't even recognize Brian. After blinking for a few seconds, Cole finally seemed to relax a little. Then, without warning, he jumped up and gave Brian a hug.

Brian had to practically carry Cole to the car he was shaking so bad. He tried to ask what Cole had seen, but Cole didn't breathe a word. Brian wasn't about to leave him alone in such a wigged out state, so he brought Cole home with him instead. They stayed up together the whole night, just sitting in silence on the couch under a blanket. It was exactly what Brian had wanted to do since their misadventure at Hotel Canfield began, but it wasn't at all like he'd hoped it would be. Cole was too terrified to function, not even aware that Brian's arms were around him half the time. He didn't make another sound until morning... but Brian sensed a deep and profound change in Cole long before then.

When Brian looked over the video he'd recorded a few days later, the file was too corrupted to play. Cole had recorded some footage on his phone, but he refused to let Brian see it. "You're better off not knowing," he said, deleting both videos in the same breath. "Ghost-hunting is lame anyway. Let's go get some dinner; my treat."