The room where the spectre had settled was one of the many currently empty guest rooms.
Before he’d stopped to think about it, Devin was back inside, heading down the dark green carpeting in the dim, sconce-lit hall. He knew precisely which room he wanted and was soon pressing on its door, the last one on the left.
The door opened easily, perhaps not such an unusual thing in the old hotel where the maid often forgot to lock the rooms behind her.
Devin gave little thought to it, in any case. He was acting through an impulse that wasn’t entirely conscious. Some undercurrent in his actions became dominant when these specters appeared, an impulsion that pushed him along without his own volition. He only knew that he ended up standin...
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