In the middle of a forest, in the hallways of your mind, there is a hotel with no name. It has no guests, and no staff. Everyone left, once the body in the pool appeared.

But the ghost is still here, pacing the halls alone. Her feet make no sound as they press against the floor. Her pale eyes glint with a lifetime of unshed tears. She has been searching for something for so long. She can no longer remember what it is. A warm body, perhaps. But the only body is the one in the water, with its little dark furls of hair. She doesn't like the shadows in the pool room, anyway; they whisper too much.

She can hear it in the walls, the groan and drag of its vast form as it slithers through the pool of darkness that hides just behind this thin facade. It's following her. And it's hungry.

It will have her soon enough, she thinks. She's getting very tired.

And there's no point trying to leave this place, now, because there's a girl with a jackalope head always standing in the parking lot, gripping a light-strung baseball bat and staring at the moon. She seems to be waiting for something, though the ghost can't imagine what.

There was never very much of this place.

This is all that's left.

It's time to wake up.