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Join Date: Apr 1999
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STORY: The Terrace Hotel
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The Terrace Hotel
Michael Morelli
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Turn off all your lights, settle into your comfy computer chair, and enjoy this story with a nice mug of hot cocoa.
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May 5, 2000
“Happy Birthday,” we all yelled as Josh and I each blew out 14 solid blue candles. My mom hurried to get plates and a cutting fork so we could eat.
“Anyone care for ice cream with their cake?” Mom asked with her head buried in our cupboard.
Each of the five kids sitting at the table ate cake and ice cream vigorously until all the cake was gone and their stomachs were too full to force down another spoonful. Our 14th birthdays had been a success. The Terrel and Morelli families now each had a 14 year old in the house. They seemed to take it pretty well. Fretting about the house, Mrs. Terrel was gathering up things from Josh’s childhood, most likely to cry about how big her boy was. My dad was outside riding the new bike I received this year, and my mom was hurrying out of the house to go get the film from her camera developed.
It was after 10:00 pm before the other kids had gone home. Josh and I volunteered to clean up the kitchen, because our parents looked exhausted after the day’s events. We had gone to Coaster City Amusement park to celebrate our birthdays, spending almost 8 hours riding lightning fast roller coasters, an event that didn’t appeal much to our parents, who accompanied us, but in the end they ended up enjoying a few of the less daring rides.
After washing the plates and spoons, mopping the white tiled floor to a sparkling shine, and tossing the dirty placemats into the laundry room, Josh and I hurried upstairs to watch a movie on his new Sony Trinitron 56” color television.
Josh and I had been best friends since we were born, when the doctors made the mistake of labeling us to the wrong families. Our parents were old friends from Harvard, and had both had children within hours on the same day. After Josh and I were handed to the wrong parents, we were each driven home, to houses built next door to each other. It was almost two months before the labeling mistake was discovered. While in many cases this would raise lawsuits and ruin friendships, our parents thought it was the most hilarious thing that had ever happened to any of them, and switched babies without problems. Since then Josh and I have been best of friends, so close we are considered brothers by those who don’t know us well. The distinction between us is apparent, though we think almost identically. Josh has short blonde hair, light skin, and is more of a runner type, while I have brown hair, darker skin, and am built like a football player.
“Hey Michael, what movie do ya wanna watch?” Josh asked while hanging up his new Levi jeans in the closet.
I was sitting on the bed trying to connect my new PlayStation to Josh’s TV.
“Take one guess,” I replied. If the two of us had exactly the same feelings about anything it was movies. Without a word said Josh went over and pulled “The Matrix” out from under his TV.
One of the more interesting things about our families is the closeness they shared. They met at Harvard and shared the same dorms. When they finished school, they decided to move in together, and build houses that connected in some way. At the time they never considered what a great idea this had been. At the top of the stairs next to Josh’s bedroom there was a large corridor that extended to my house across the fence. This allowed us to basically live in the same house all the time. We regarded it as a way to have the “Eternal Sleepover.” The hallway was lined with pictures from each of our families that were purposely mixed around to show our friendship.
Flopping down on a black beanbag I grabbed the new Sony remote and began to program the TV while Josh set up the movie.
“Hey, there’s something in here,” Josh said, pulling a piece of paper out of the movie case.
“What is it?” I asked.
Josh began to read something written on the note. His eyes suddenly lit up and he looked at me.
“It says we still have presents to open!”
“Let me see it,” I said.
Josh handed me the note. I began reading and I, too, got excited:
“Dear Michael and Josh,
Figured you would watch this movie tonight, but we’ll tell you anyway if you don’t. You still haven’t opened all your presents. It would be pretty terrible not to open all of them, but to make it fun, we hid them somewhere. I don’t want to give it away but I would start my search in the kitchen.”
The note fell out of my hands and to the carpet.
“What do you think it means?” I said with excitement.
But Josh was already gone. I tore off after him to the kitchen on the bottom floor. We started our search in the fridge, then the cabinets and finally the dishwasher. We had almost given up hope when I spotted something under the table.
“Josh, look! Another note!”
We both lunged for the piece of paper. What it said was simple:
“LOOK UP YOU NERDS.”
We looked up at the bottom of the table. Taped to the table with duck tape were two boxes. We both grabbed the boxes and began to open them right under the table. Oozing with curiosity I got mine opened first, and gasped at what I found inside. A two-way radio. It was very heavy and was covered with buttons and switches. Just as I was opening my mouth to tell Josh he said,
“Look at this, Mike, I got a two-way radio!”
“Me too!” I replied, “This means we can talk to each other all the time!”
Josh nodded and said in a hushed voice, “We have GOT to go exploring.”
We spent the rest of the night watching movie after movie on Josh’s new TV. It was only when my mom opened the door holding two plates of pancakes in the morning that we took our eyes off the screen and got up. The pancakes were excellent, and homemade.
“Your mom makes the Best pancakes,” Josh said.
“Yeah, I feel like I actually slept last night,” I replied with a groggy smile.
Josh eyes suddenly lit up.
“We have to go exploring with those new 2-ways today!”
I came to life with those words, “Yes! Lets gather our gear and head out.”
We left our breakfasts half eaten on the table and sprinted to our rooms. Five minutes later we converged in the corridor connecting our houses, each wearing warm clothes and a backpack.
With the new radios in our hands we both shook hands and said, “Lets do it!”
The sun was completely hidden from view by the dark storm clouds that were forming above.
“Those are…um…cumulo-,” Josh said, looking up at the clouds.
“Cumulonimbus,” I finished, “Where should we go?”
Josh looked at me and gave me a sinister smile. I nodded back, and we took off into the woods. We were going to the Terrace hotel.
The Terrace Hotel is an old hotel located deep within the Gunnison National Forest near Gunnison, Colorado. The hotel has a spine tingling history. Back in 1906, when the hotel was at its peak in business, strange things started to happen.
The hotel stood on at the base of Wilson Peak, a fairly small mountain, but was wonderful for those staying at the hotel to climb. The Terrace was regarded back then as one of the most luxurious hotels in the world. The entrance of the hotel was built to replicate a Roman garden, filled with exotic plants and grape vines. Once past the entrance garden there was the hotel itself. Supported by marble pillars, the hotel resembled the ancient Parthenon, and was also surrounded by plants from all over the globe. Guests were greeted by several of the hotel staff, who tied up their horses and helped them to their room. The Terrace held nightly balls in its courtyard, presented by some of the most famous entertainers of that time.
One night there was a terrible fire in the hotel, and half of it, including the Roman garden, was completely burned. The cause of the fire is to this day unknown, but following the fire were a series of attacks that would condemn the Terrace forever. One man survived, a man named Charles Winthrop, the Maitre ’d of the hotel. He related to reporters that the attacks were committed by a beast, more specifically, an enormous bear. He claimed, despite the reporters criticism, that the bear was evil, and was sent to ruin the hotel. The hotels expansion was expanding every month, each time taking down dozens of trees around the mountain, to the point that the mountain was almost completely surrounded by the hotel. Because of his beliefs, Winthrop was regarded as a crazy mountain man, which led him to become a hermit.
Since the attacks the hotel has remained untouched, and except for the park ranger, it is never visited. The hotel now lies about 12 miles from a small housing development called Kail’s Creek.
On the curb of the main street in their hometown of Kail’s Creek stood Josh Terrel and Michael Morelli, who were looking intently at a map of the forest, trying to pinpoint the exact location of the Terrace hotel. It wasn’t labeled directly on the map, but the mountain it was built around was.
“Ok, the hotel is about 12 miles east,” Josh said as he folded the map up and slipped it in his pocket.
“We should be there in 4 hours, if we keep a brisk pace,” I calculated, “That leaves us 3 hours of daylight, and about 1 hour of hiking time to get back. We should make camp here, at the Campers Outpost.”
“Good plan, Mike, lets go!”
The Campers Outpost is a large clearing in the forest that has been converted into a place for hikers to stay. It is blocked off by 10 foot chain-link fencing on all sides, and has restrooms, a heated meeting area, and hot showers. The Outpost was a little more than 8 miles from Kail’s Creek, and would be the ideal place to stay for the night.
Josh and I had cleared it with our parents to go camping. In Colorado it was a very common thing to go on camping trips, and Josh and I were no exception. Almost every weekend during summer vacation we went camping, just not all the way to the Terrace Hotel. We knew its’ history, which made it all the more fun to explore. After rechecking our backpacks for any missing items, we set off.
The forest held a mystical air about it as we hiked through its trees, bushes, and creeks. Our watches indicated that we were making excellent time, so we stopped for a quick bite to eat in a clearing about 3 miles from the Outpost. Munching eagerly on Oreo cookies and Pringles chips, Josh and I chatted about what we were going to do once we got to the hotel.
“Whatever we do, we must leave it EXACTLY as we came upon it.” I said with a note of authority in my voice. Josh was somewhat awestruck by this statement, but agreed to leave the old hotel alone and just look around.
“It would really be fun if we could find the hotel’s safe,” Josh said enthusiastically. The hotel had a 30 by 30 foot safe hidden somewhere in the deep basement, but this is all myth, and didn’t hold much interest to me.
“Remember, we will only have 2 hours of light before we have to head back to the Outpost.” I said, “We have to call our parents from there by 10:00 or they will call the police and send a search party to find us.”
“But they don’t know where we are going, do they?” Josh asked cautiously.
“Of course not, they’d never let us go out that far. We aren’t even supposed to go past the Outpost.” I replied.
“Well,” Josh sighed, in any case, we should get started again, the sun is starting to set." I agreed, and we stowed our trash and continued up the sloping hill, eager to catch sight of the mountain that would mark the end of our journey.
It wasn't until nine o’clock at night that we arrived at the Terrace hotel. Driven by a thought in our minds to find and explore the hotel, we ignored warning signs of not having enough light, and continued to hike, soon having to use our flashlights just to see. The moon was now our guide in the sky, and we had only found the hotel long after it had risen.
The hotel was massive. It covered the entire base of the mountain, just like the legend said. Josh and I looked for the main entrance. It wasn’t easily missed. Six vertical marble beams marked the main entrance to the Terrace. Instantly I pictured elegant men and women arriving in horse and buggy. Surrounded by still flourishing exotic plants, the old hotel reminisced in itself, its story told as the boys drew ever nearer to the entrance. When I got close enough to touch the marble posts, I noticed the fire damage that the hotel had incurred. We walked past the main doorway, which was comprised of a deep brown, almost maroon mahogany, framed by very intricate woodcarvings of famous Greek and Roman Gods and Goddesses.
“Should we go in?” I wondered aloud.
“Of course we should, We can’t just have come out here without doing something, now can we?” Josh playfully scolded.
But I wasn’t so sure. The place was downright creepy. I peered inside to get a better look. My flashlight cast a yellow beam on a dust infested wooden desk, its finish almost completely worn off. I scanned over antique tables and chairs, apparently untouched since the fire. The entrance in the main hall was sided by deep velvet drapes, more expressive of rags now, but I could tell the hotel had once been something great.
“Lets go in and check it out!” Josh whispered excitedly.
With a sigh I agreed, and we both made our way into the dark corridor, our flashlights moving all over the room.
Soon we came to a large door. After a quick glance at Josh I pressed open the oak door, and crept into the next room.
It was cavernous. No doubt this had been the main ballroom, as there was a stage and orchestra pit in the far left corner, with a small stadium and large dance floor opposite of the stage. Josh and I marveled at the room for almost 5 minutes before venturing further into it. The floor was carpeted with the same deep red velvet I had seen on the drapery.
We walked cautiously across the expansive dance floor, to a large swinging door, which was now only being held on by one hinge.
It was immediately apparent that this led to the kitchen, as there was evidence of fire damage. The legend claims the fire started in the kitchen, then spread to surrounding areas.
“Gee,” I said, remembering that the kitchen was running on full staff at the time of the fire, “All those people…”
We walked curiously into the kitchen. I hit my flashlight to stop the small flickering of light it was emitting. I wondered if the batteries were getting low. I told Josh to stop and I unscrewed the battery pack from the flashlight, and tested the Duracell batteries that were in it to check their power. Sure enough, my flashlight was as good as dead. I put the old batteries into a safe bag and replaced them with new ones.
We continued into the kitchen. Our first impression of the kitchen was not of by sight, but by smell. Apparently the swinging door had never been opened since the fire, because the room still had the faint smell of smoke. It was a fascinating sight, though, despite the condition. Twelve coal burning stoves lined the far wall, fronted by three enormous cooking islands, with hanging racks above stocked with all sorts of cooking tools.
As I got closer to the stoves, I heard a loud scream from behind me. I wheeled around just in time to see Josh plummet through he floor and out of sight.
His scream echoed through the dilapidated kitchen, and far into the night sky- it seemed to go on forever. I was lost in a circle of fright and helplessness, stuck to my spot about 5 feet from where Josh had fallen. After about a minute of whimpering, I mustered up the courage to see if Josh was ok.
Stuck in what looked like a small stadium was Josh, crumpled unconscious on the floor. I could hear his sedated breathing and was relieved by that.
“What am I going to do?” I asked myself quizzically. I had read several novels and How-To guides on how to survive in the wilderness, but none of them covered situations when your buddy falls 20 feet in a scary hotel. What I needed to do right now was think. I walked over to a window and stared out at the dark night sky. Clouds had overtaken the moon, so it was just me and the hotel, and my best friend stuck inside.
After pilfering blindly through my backpack, I pulled out my flashlight and clicked it on. The battery was weakening, and the beam was getting fainter by the minute. I looked down the hole one last time at Josh, who was still unconscious, then trekked my way out of the hotel. I kneeled to the ground outside in the garden, trying to sort out my feelings and think of a way to get Josh out. Just then I heard a sound, like leaves cracking.
“Probably just a fox or something,” I thought, “Dad said there wasn’t any big game in the National Forest, didn’t he?”
I sat poised for a few minutes, not hearing the sound again, and went back to work. Perhaps I could use a rope and hoist him up. I had a length of rope in my backpack. Feeling the adrenaline once again pulsing through my veins, I grabbed the rope and took off into the hotel, leaving my backpack in the garden. As I was running I heard the cracking noise again and turned my head. I stared right into the eyes of a monster. I sprinted frantically through the entrance, the ballroom, and the kitchen, closing and latching the door behind me.
“Josh!” I hissed, “something is out there, and it saw me!”
“Uuughh, what?” Josh mumbled, half conscious.
I heard scraping outside the kitchen door.
“Oh no,” I said in an undertone.
Looking through the small window in the kitchen door was a man, but like no man I had ever seen before. He face was covered in scrapes, one half being completely burned. His eyes were a menacing green, his hair a terrifying white, and his nose was crooked and pointy. With one swift kick he crashed the door open, and stood before me. He was wearing a bearskin toga, and clenched a Cherokee tomahawk.
“Who are you?” I stammered.
Without reply, the man lunged at me, teeth bearing, and his hatchet raised above his head, ready to swing down and kill. I stumbled backwards, and fell into Josh’s hole.
I seemed to fall forever, then hit the ground with a loud crack.
“Ahh, my leg!” I screamed.
Looking down into the hole was the man, and he was…laughing. It was an evil laugh, one without heart or compassion- or remorse. The man held out something. At first it looked like a snake, but as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could tell. He had our rope.
He continued to laugh, and soon his laugh turned into a roar, a roar of terrifying hysteria. He walked away; I could hear the tap of his feet on the ballroom dance floor, and then nothing.
I turned to Josh, who was now sitting upright, his hand rubbing his head.
“What was that thing?” Josh asked
“I don’t know,” I whispered, “but he had burns all over his face, like he was in a fire.”
“Where are we,” I said, looking around at darkness.
The ground beneath us was very smooth, some kind of tile or stone.
“MATCHES!” Josh said with a start.
He pulled several matches from his pocket and struck them on the floor. He then took a book out of his backpack and set it on fire. Soon the room became a luminated palace. The floor was marble, as well as the walls. We were in a small part of something rather cavernous, as there were identical areas like ours extending all the way to the wall.
“You know what this looks like,” I said, “A Roman bathing pool. The hotel was designed to replicate the Romans way of living, perhaps they built these bathing pools in the beginning, then converted it to a hotel, covering the pools up.”
“Far fetched, but possible, and at this point, probable.” Josh snickered, now feeling better, except for his head. There was a nasty bump on it.
My leg was feeling better too. I was lucky. I had fallen right on top of Josh’s backpack, so most of my impact was absorbed in by the pack. As our eyes adjusted, we could see marble carvings in the walls, similar to those in the hotel. My eyes trailed over Zeus and Athena, over to---my eyes stopped. Right over Athena’s shoulder there was a passage- I could see steps leading into the darkness.
“Josh! Look over there!” I pointed to the hole.
Josh’s eyes lit up, “A passageway! Maybe it will lead out of here.”
We gathered up our things, and started toward the hole, which was about 8 feet above the ground in the far wall, 40 yards away. We were moving along at a mild pace (my leg wouldn’t allow for much more), but as we moved the throbbing went down. When we arrived below the hole I hoisted myself carefully up to the opening, and Josh tossed his backpack up to me. As I was pulling Josh up, we heard a noise, and saw the wild man falling through the air. He had jumped into the hole with us. But he did not land on his side, or his head, but on his feet. Like a hungry wolf, the man hit the ground and tore after us, howling and chanting almost inaudible words. I panicked and let go of Josh. The man was drawing nearer- 25 yards. Josh made a desperate jump for the hole and caught hold of his backpack. The man was almost here, 20 yards, 15 yards, 10 yards. Right as Josh pulled himself to the safety of the hole, the man made a powerful sweep with the hatchet. Missing by mere centimeters, he jumped up and caught hold of Josh’s shoe. Screaming in terror, Josh grabbed his heavy two-way radio and took a swing at the man. Direct hit. The man fell backward, tumbling over the marble ledge and hit the ground about 20 feet down. He was gone.
Josh, still breathing fast, scurried up beside me, holding his foot like a lost pet.
“L-lets get out of here!” Josh whimpered.
I certainly agreed. We got our breath back then started heading up the pitch-black walkway. This pathway was also completely marble, and surprisingly wide. It had most likely been the method used to fill the bathing pools.
We seemed to crawl for hours. After a while we stopped to rest. The tunnel had not changed in any way, and no light was visible yet. We kept ourselves company by telling jokes (At one point we started telling horror stories- but that quickly stopped). While we were stopped we dug through Josh’s bag for some food, and came up with a small, half-eaten bag of M & M’s, which we devoured. Josh also glanced at his watch using its built in self-illuminator. The time was 3:00 am. Somebody had to be looking for them by now. His parents told him if we hadn’t called by 10:00 they would initiate the search, so it was only a matter of time before they were safe.
“Wait a minute.” I said suddenly, “How would ANYONE know where we are?”
Josh digested the comment for a minute, then his voice drew grim, “They…won’t.”
By 6:00 in the morning the two of us were exhausted, and had to stop and sleep. The tunnel was no longer marble, but hard packed clay mixed with what felt like clam shells.
Once we started moving again, famished and thirsty but refreshed from sleeping, we noticed that the tunnel started to slope slightly upward. Excitement flowed through us and we picked up the pace, ignoring our raw knees and scraped elbows.
We saw the first sign of light at 11:00 am.
“Look!” I yelled to Josh, who jumped at the sound of my voice.
“What is it?” Josh asked.
“There is light, I can see it!” I stammered as my spirits lifted from their all time low.
“Finally…finally,” was all that Josh was able to force out.
We moved even faster now, shedding our coats and backpacks, hanging on to the rest of the M&M’s, a compass, Josh’s watch, and the two-way radios, which still worked after all the bumping and banging they had endured.
When we reached the light we stopped to listen for sounds. We didn’t want to repeat last nights’ events.
“Is it possible that we went in a circle?” I pondered.
“No way- my watch’s built in compass kept us riding hard west since we entered the tunnel. Wherever we are, its far away from that hotel.”
This was a relieving thought, so I built up my remaining strength and got up close to the source of light. There was an opening that the light was coming through, but several sizeable rocks, that I alone could not move, were blocking it.
“Come on up here and help me,” I told Josh.
Josh maneuvered up to where I was and awaited my instruction.
“Ok, on three we are going to push this big rock?”
“Got it”
With sheer determination, I yelled, “One, Two, THREE!”
We pushed with all our might to move the rock. It responded so easily that we went tumbling out of the hole along with the rock.
We were in a room of some kind. It looked like a man-made cave.
“A mine,” I said.
“I think you are right.”
There was a large opening, big enough for a 18-wheeler to fit through, at the opposite end of the room, so Josh and I ambled over to it, our legs feeling rubbery beneath us after crawling so long in the tunnel. When we got to the opening we turned around. The hole was almost hidden from view, even with the rock gone.
“I bet the guys that worked here didn’t even know it was there,” Josh said.
We walked outside, to find ourselves on a small hill. There was a sign by the mine entrance that read, “Illy’s Aluminum Mining- 1907.”
“Right about the time of the fire at the Terrace, remember?” I said recalling the legend.
But Josh wasn’t listening. I turned to him to find his eyes fixed on something at the bottom of the hill.
“THE OUTPOST!” He screamed.
I followed his gaze to see flashing red and blue lights, which meant the cops were down there.
With joy and relief, we scrambled down the hill to safety.
It was later discovered that the man the boys had encountered at the Terrace had been none other than Charles Winthrop, the Matre ‘d of the hotel, and the only known survivor of the terrible fire that ended the Terrace hotel forever. The boys were correct in their assumption that what they had fallen into was a mock-up Roman bathing pool. They were congratulated on their strength and willingness to survive. While their parents grounded them for breaking the rules, they were overjoyed at their boys recovery. The End
[This message has been edited by M (edited 03-16-2001).]
[This message has been edited by M (edited 03-17-2001).]
[This message has been edited by M (edited 03-17-2001).]
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