Hotel Evil

By Homer Cook

John Sanchez has no memory of booking a stay at Hotel Evil. He also has no idea why he's staying there or where he plans on going the next day. The first thing he can remember is eating dinner with Mr. Evil, the owner of the hotel. Despite the ominous name, John finds the experience to be quite pleasant. When Mr. Evil leaves John to attend to other business, however, John finds himself alone and confused at the hotel, and the night quickly begins taking a turn for the unpleasant. He just wants to go to sleep, but the hotel has other plans for him, luring him into a mysterious, bizarre, and surreal adventure within its confines. An adventure which may soon turn into a matter of life and death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Homer Cook
• Release date: Feb 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201941260

Book preview

The Short Chapter

I don’t recall how it was that I came to stay at the Hotel Evil. I would think the name alone would have been enough to keep me away, but if I had been aware of what was in store for me that night, I know I never would have gone anywhere near the place. Perhaps it’s a good thing that our vision is only clear in hindsight. If we could see the road ahead of us perfectly, there would never be any unpleasant stops along the way. And all it took was one stay at Hotel Evil for me to learn the value of life’s misery.

Then again, perhaps my foresight would have made no difference. In all likelihood I had no say whatsoever in booking a night at that most wretched of all hotels. Destiny must have been the one who arranged the stay for me. How is this possible? You’re asking the wrong man. There’s a great deal that happened at the Evil Hotel which I wouldn’t have thought possible had I not witnessed it with my own eyes. Never be too confident that you understand how anything works or what its purpose is. Even after witnessing so much, I’m hopeless at trying to explain how any of it happened. All I know is what happened, and that’s what I recount to you. The rest is beyond my grasp.

Like how I could have no memory of arriving or checking in to the place. I know I hadn’t been drinking or doing anything else to alter my mind, but I have absolutely no recollection of the origin of my sojourn at Hotel Evil. I got there somehow, and I must have gone to my room, because I would discover later that all my luggage was already up there. But how, when, or why this happened, what my first impressions of the place were—your guess is as good as mine. I remember nothing of it. Not even an occasional involuntary flash of memory. It’s a total blank slate.

The first thing I do remember is talking to Mr. Evil in the restaurant. We must have been speaking for a while, because we were already midway through our dinner and well past all introductions and formalities at the first point I recall. I was having a steak, and if I had ever had a more delicious dinner, it certainly did not enter my mind during that meal.

I’m glad you’re enjoying it so much, Mr. Evil said when my pleasure was made apparent, though I had a feeling you would. I’m happy to say we don’t get too many visitors who have anything negative to say about our restaurant.

While my stomach always turns a little at the memory of anything that happened in this man’s hotel, the feeling is drowned out by the nostalgic flood of contentment that I experience when recalling how I felt in that moment. Not only was the meal delicious, but I couldn’t imagine anyone I would rather be sharing it with than the man who sat across the little table from me. We were tucked away in the corner of the dimly lit place, and my companion was dressed in a sharp gray suit. Normally I would have felt out of place sitting with someone dressed like that while I was in nothing more than a sweater and dark pair of jeans, but in his company it felt like no issue at all. He was older than I was, probably about twice my age, yet his vitality seemed to match my own, only it was accompanied by a wisdom and understanding I could barely comprehend. It was only natural that his handsome face should reflect this cohabitation of youth and age so well, from its perfectly-placed lines that had not yet decayed into wrinkles to his short head of hair that seemed neither blond nor gray or a mixture of the two, but rather its own unique color that somehow possessed the qualities of both of these other shades. I had surely just met the man, but he already felt like a friend I had known my whole life.

I can’t thank you enough for insisting I don’t go out to dinner, I said as I swallowed another mouthful, trying to prevent myself from devouring the whole thing in a few bites. You could have gone into the restaurant business with a place like this.

I did in a way, didn’t I? he asked, taking the compliment well. It’s just this restaurant has a whole lot more going on than most do. You’re not restricted to eating here.

And did you say before that this is the only one of your hotels in the world? He nodded. But why? I—I shouldn’t get ahead of myself, I guess, I only just got here, but from what I’ve seen, from the quality of this dinner, even the size of the place—if you can run one place that’s this size this well, you could probably make a killing if you started a chain of them.

Ah, he said knowingly, "but who said I was interested in making a killing? There’s a reason people always associate businesses and their owners with only being interested in profit until they make enough that they can graduate on to world domination, and that’s because to get to the size where you become famous, that has to be your modus operandi. But a guy like me, I’m driven by something else. Sure, I want to make money, but there are tons of ways to do that. The reason I do this is because I believe in it. I want there to be a hotel run the way I think a hotel ought to be run. The typa hotel I’d want to stay in. So I tried to make that vision a reality. And I think I’ve done a pretty good job of it. Why sacrifice that for a few dollars more? What profit is there for a man—or a hotel—to gain the world but lose its soul?"

Of course. And it’s wonderful to hear someone say something like that and really mean it, as you must, since you haven’t opened any others. But why would you have to lose anything by opening more? You could run the others—even if it’s just one—the way this one is run, since you know how to do it successfully. You know what works and what doesn’t. So just do the same thing, and then even more people can experience your hotels, the way hotels ought to be, as you said.

But I couldn’t be in two places at once, could I? Much less three, or four, or five... he said, washing down the roll he just finished with a sip of red wine. And thus it couldn’t be the same, could it? Because I don’t just own the place: I manage it. I oversee all the details of how everything’s run around here. And I couldn’t do that if there were even one more hotel.

But you could set it up the same way, and train the people running the others to run them the same way you do, and even check in on—

"Ah, there’s where you go wrong. True, I could do all that. But it wouldn’t be me running it, no matter how much I trained someone else to be like me. And that would be its downfall. It would be like trying to train a dog to behave like a horse. No one can run one of my hotels the way I can, but I can’t run someone else’s hotel the way that guy can. If he wants to run one, he should do it his own way. Maybe it’s better than mine, but even if it’s not, it’s still better he do it his way than try to imitate mine, because at least it’s his own way and he’s being true to the nature of his hotel. It’s bound to be better than if he were doing some lousy impersonation of me. The second you expand beyond what you can directly control, it becomes a bureaucracy, and then, no matter how good you are, the quality’s gonna plummet. It might be efficient, it might even be effective, but it won’t be what it once was.

Remember what I was saying before, about the guys who are only interested in profit and world domination? he continued as I hung on to his every word. Well, aside from the ones who are born into a family and just inherit half the world, the rest usually aren’t trying to go down that road at the start. Most of them start out just like me. But the problem begins when they think they can do what you’re talking about. They think they can expand and duplicate their success since they know what worked for them, and they think it can only be a good idea since they’ll make more money and more people will get to experience the product they believe in. It’s good for everybody, or so they think. But the problem is they don’t realize it’s impossible. The second they try, they quickly learn that for this large enterprise to work at all, every detail has to be standardized and maniacally managed from afar. The soul naturally gets lost in the process, and if they want to avoid going into extreme debt, they have to become control freaks just to keep their own ship afloat. And then if that ship not only stays afloat but thrives, you’re left with a rich, soulless control freak who still has the idea that expanding his empire is the right thing to do. So do you see how these guys become supervillains?

I had never thought of it like that... I said, amazed at the simplicity but brilliance of his words. In just a few minutes he had done to my mind what he would never do to his hotel: he had greatly expanded it. The whole world made so much more sense just from eating a delicious steak with this man.

And it all starts out innocently enough, he said. "Just a guy like me who takes the bait you offered. Some good life advice: don’t take the bait. You might miss out on a tasty meal once in a while, but you’ll get to enjoy more meals in the long run, because you won’t be dead. You see, with these business guys I’m talking about: one second it’s a man doing something great for himself and the world, and the next he’s an evil mastermind—and not just because that’s his name! he laughed. That’s why, in addition to everything else that happens to ‘em which I just described, you should never listen to a big businessman on anything. If he were really wise, he would’ve seen in advance what was gonna happen and avoided going down that road. But not only is he not wise enough to see the future, but he can’t even see the present! He doesn’t know what happened to him. Since he never consciously tried to do anything wrong, he can’t see what he’s turned into. He’s oblivious to it. If you’re going to take advice from a business owner, make sure it’s from someone who’s owned a smaller business for a long time. That’s how you know both that the guy is smart and that he still has a soul."

Well if they’re all like you, I won’t hesitate for a second to do so, I said, wiping my mouth with my napkin. The only downside of listening to this man’s words of wisdom was that I was so enthralled by what he was saying that I didn’t feel I was giving the steak the attention it deserved. I had practically forgotten all about it until I realized there was no more left. Both the meal and the words were of such a quality that I thought each deserved my full attention and concentration. I was having too many good things at once.

But tell me, I continued, and I’m sorry if you get asked this all the time, but you mentioned it yourself: is Evil really your name? Your real name, I mean?

I was relieved to see he took no offense to the question. His unsurprised chuckle showed he was well accustomed to being asked this but had not yet grown weary of answering. Yes, it’s my real name, he said. Some are born owning half the world, others are born with a name like ‘Evil.’ I think I had the better lot of the two.

I’m sorry, I’ve just never heard anyone with that name before. Couldn’t you change it if you wanted to?

And who said I wanted to? Like it or not, that’s the way I was born. If I was meant to live a life with that name, then I’ll live my life with that name.

"But you didn’t have to name your hotel that. That you got to choose, and you could have named it whatever you wanted."

I know. And I wanted to name it ‘Hotel Evil.’

But...why? I asked, no longer worried about offending a man who clearly had such thick skin and a sense of humor on top of it. That can’t be good for your business, can it?

"The fact that we’re always booked and having no problems getting by seems to say otherwise. You’re staying the night here, aren’t you?"

I responded that indeed I was, but I don’t remember if I knew the reason why I was staying at this specific hotel. Perhaps I did, but if I remembered remembering that now, I would be able to tell you how I ended up there, which we both know I can’t do. Not every memory is preserved in memory.

But I’m sure you’re wondering what my motivation was for choosing that name, he said. I admit it’s a strange choice, and I initially wasn’t going to because I had the same reservations you just expressed. But then I got to thinking: what good is naming the place ‘Pleasant Night Inn?’ What’s gonna grab someone’s attention more, that or ‘Hotel Evil?’ Where would I rather stay? Sure, some people might be scared off, but even more are likely to be attracted. Whether it’s an admirable trait or a flaw, human beings are drawn to the macabre, to the frightening. When this night’s over, what would you rather tell everyone for the rest of your life: that you stayed at Pleasant Night Inn or at Hotel Evil? People think it’s worth taking a risk because of the payoff that might come from it. And besides, this way no one can accuse me of false advertising afterwards. I can always have the defense that you knew what you were getting into, so don’t blame me!

I laughed with him at this remark and said, So far the only thing that seems evil about this place is that I’ll never be happy staying in another hotel again after this. Or maybe worse: I might love it so much here that I’ll never want to leave!

Poor me! How innocent and naïve I was at that time! And yet how accurate my prediction still was, in a way. I had no idea of the terror that was in store for me. In my blissful ignorance I couldn’t imagine anything negative happening to me. If anything, I was looking forward to the rest of the night, possessing some vague notion that things would only continue to get better.

Can I interest you in a milkshake? he said after a while when our chat died down, each of us having finished his meal.

A milkshake?

Sure. If people compliment us on our meals, you should hear what they say about our milkshakes! Unless you’re too stuffed, of course.

No, it’s not that, I said truthfully. I’d just—well, I’d feel bad, ordering more if you still insist on paying.

Nonsense! he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. I wouldn’t be offering if it were any trouble. I’d be happy to get you two, if you wanted.

Oh, I don’t think I’ll be doing that, I laughed.

We’ll see. Most people say the same thing, until they actually try one.

I told him I would start with one and we could see from there. Once again, I would love to know how it came to be that Mr. Evil himself ended up taking time out of his undoubtedly busy schedule not only to share a lengthy dinner with me but even to pay for the whole thing. I know it happened, but I don’t know how it happened. I don’t remember the initial arrangements being made. As far back as I can remember, this arrangement was taken for granted.

I appreciate you doing this, I told him.

I appreciate you allowing me to, he responded.

Do you do this a lot? There’s nothing special about me, is there? You obviously can’t do this with every guest, can you?

I care about all my guests, he said. I obviously can’t treat every single one of them equally, nor would I want to, but I care about them all equally. It’s like a father trying to pick between his children. You can’t always spend an equal amount of time with all your kids, and you don’t treat them all the same way, but you love and care about all of them equally. That’s how I’ve always viewed my guests. And now hopefully it makes even more sense why I’d never be interested in opening another hotel. D’ya think I’d have time to do things like this if I had a whole chain of hotels to run? To keep the analogy going, that would be like having a polygamous family! Each hotel would be a separate wife, and all the guests would be my out-of-control number of children. I’d barely have time to spend with any of them if I didn’t play favorites!

I was seeing things with his vision more and more. While not even half an hour ago I had thought it seemed crazy not to expand your business if you had the opportunity, now it seemed ludicrous to want this very thing. What gain was there? If you could make a living on a smaller business, why not do that? He said he had no desire for world domination—he had no need for it. His one hotel was his one true love, his whole world. It was seemingly possible to have the whole world without really possessing any of it.

While I was looking forward to the milkshake, especially considering how delicious the preceding meal had been, when it came I was nonetheless nervous on account of how much he had hyped it. It’s always awkward when someone offers you something and says in advance how much you’re going to like it. But I had no need to worry. When I took my first sip, I realized he had actually been underselling it. If I described the steak in such superlative terms, I’m not sure I even possess an extensive enough vocabulary to describe the bliss I experienced drinking that milkshake. No negative feelings lurk anywhere when I call to mind that memory, the soothing, peaceful, idyllic memory of sipping on that milkshake that was offered to me free of any charge...

I ended up drinking two milkshakes.

We talked about much more, though I don’t recall what all of it was. Perhaps this was the opposite of before, and now I was giving the milkshakes more attention than his words. But I think I absorbed whatever nuggets of wisdom he was offering me, all the same. It all became so deeply ingrained in me that it’s no use trying to dig deep enough to find out what its source is. How he expanded my knowledge of life is much like my whole experience of dining with him: I don’t need to recall every detail to know that it happened and left a profound influence on me, one that would never cease to be a part of me.

I would have been content to have spent the whole night with him, but one thing I do recall is my dismay when he said he would be leaving me. It made sense that he would have to leave eventually, but I had become so caught up in talking to him, so comfortable in his presence, that I almost expected him to remain with me for the rest of my stay. He felt almost like a family member at this point, and while I hadn’t consciously thought this, on some subliminal level I had so taken for granted spending time with him that I thought this was the way it would remain. But he had other plans.

No, I’m sorry, but I do have some other things I have to do, he said when I must have shown my sorrow. "I think