Date: Thu, 3 Nov 2016 18:01:13 -0400
From: db.byron@jacobsplayhouse.com
Subject: The Mysterious Telford Part One M/b Adult/Youth

DISCLAIMER: The following story contains descriptions of sexual activity
between men and minors, especially boys. If you are under 18 years of age,
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involving minors, READ NO FURTHER. The following story is fantasy only and
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actions by the reader, nor is it intended to contribute in any way to
harmful acts toward children.

All events portrayed are fictional but inspired by actual paranormal
reports, if you like what you've read, write me at
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-

A little back story first...  If you've been following my family's story
thus far, then you know my name is Mark and I'm 30 years old.  I live in
the deep south with my family; Which consists of my brother James age 31,
my son Jacob age 10 and my Dad age 63 as well as his adopted grandson Alex
age 6.

During this time, you've likely heard all about our lifestyle and the
adventures we've gotten into as a family.  However, you've probably never
heard much mention of my mother.  The woman who helped raise me until I was
about 5 years old.  That's because she and my father separated when I was
just a boy and we never heard from her after that.  She never visited,
never wrote, or called to check on us boys.  It was as if she had simply
vanished from the face of the planet, never to be heard from again.

Little did I know, that all that time my Dad and James had known more about
her whereabouts than they were willing to tell me.  They had their own
reasons for doing so but I believe that for the most part, they wanted
nothing to do with her and felt that I should do the same.  Sadly, I would
regret not knowing her or at least not having the chance to get to know
her.

You see, it wouldn't be until the day that we received word of my mother's
passing, that I would discover the truth that had been kept from me.  My
mother had not vanished but had simply remarried another man and moved to
another state.  It was somewhere up north from what I was told but as it
would turn out, that move didn't last long.  She and her new husband had
eventually moved back to the south and relocated to a small town not far
from where we lived.

There the two had purchased a home, sight unseen; Which they had been led
to believe was a large multi-family house.  It wouldn't be until after the
sale had gone through and they arrived to the property, that they found
that it was not a home but rather an historic hotel.  Not only was it
historic but it had also been badly neglected and had fallen into
disrepair.

Unfortunately, they had spent all their money in buying the property and
had little to no funds with which to repair or model the hotel.  An with an
ironclad contract having been signed and finalized, they had no grounds to
dispute the sale or means to take legal action against the Realtor who had
sold them the property.

Given their financial predicament, they had little choice but to take up
residence in the hotel and watch the old rick facade crumble down around
them.  It was during this time of hardship, that my mother's husband
decided that it was time to leave her.  For reasons that are still unclear
to this day, he suddenly left my mother and filed for divorce some months
later.

Keep in mind, my Dad knew of their falling-out and saw this as karma coming
back to bite my mother in the ass.  So he cared very little for what she
was enduring.  An though he knew of her now second divorce, he didn't know
exactly where she lived or else he probably would have gone to see her and
rubbed the whole thing in her face.  That's just the kind of man he is, you
see.

Nevertheless, my mother was now living in an old hotel, alone and
miserable.  Soon depression would get the best of her and she would become
extremely reclusive.  From that time forward, none of her neighbors or
friends; Who had come to know her as a very out-going person, would
completely lose sight of her.  She would never leave the hotel again.

Her absence would go on for many months, before a passerby would notice her
kneeling in a window on the third floor.  This person had come to marvel at
the hotel and once they saw my mother kneeling there motionless, they
attempted to get her attention in hopes that she would allow them inside to
have a look around.

Unfortunately, all their attempts failed to grab her attention and that's
when they realized the grim reality; That my mother had passed away and it
was only her deceased body that now resting in the window, overlooking the
street below.  The details of what happened after that, I had recounted to
me by the local coroner.

He said that upon discovering my mother's body, the passerby promptly
contacted the authorities; Who entered the hotel and ascended the stairs to
the third floor.  There they would find that she had indeed passed away of
what the coroner would later determine to be hypothermia.  Though he had no
explanation as to how this could have happened given the location and
placement of her body.

Even more bizarre was what the first responders told him they experienced
on their way to her body.  Something happened to those men and women, that
would leave them perplexed and forever changed.  You see, when they arrived
at the hotel all the doors were locked and they had no choice but to break
into the building in order to gain entry.

They forced the front door open and when they did, all the other exterior
doors in the building suddenly swung open, despite having been found to be
locked only moments before.  Not fully understanding what had just
happened, they shrugged off the incident as having something to do with air
pressure.  They thought this, because the front door swung inward while all
the other doors swung outward.

But regardless of whatever was behind this occurrence, it wouldn't be so
easy to explain away what happened next.  For the open doors would only be
the first in a series of events, leading up to the discovery and recovery
of the body.

After gaining entry, the first responders headed up the main staircase to
the second floor.  There, they reported hearing the sound of beeping.
Loud, persistent beeping; Which they would later attribute to smoke alarms
that had failing batteries.

However, none of the first responders could remember hearing the beeping
upon first entering the building.  Oddly enough, they said that it seemed
to begin only after they had ascended the stairs.  An it was so annoying
that one of them began to purposefully check for smoke alarms; For which
there were many but upon locating them, they would discover none had
batteries.

This should have been enough to make them second guess continuing but being
brave men and women, they proceeded to the third floor.  There they would
find a closed door, where a grand opening should have been.  This door felt
cold to the touch and for good reason.  For as they opened it, they
discovered that the entire third floor was freezing cold.

Now albeit, it was winter but the rest of the building had been relatively
warm and seeing as heat rises, and they were on the highest level of the
building; This should have been the warmest floor.  Strangely, it was not
only the coldest part of the building but it was actually colder inside
than it was outside and colder than it had been so far that winter.

It was so cold in fact, that even my mother's body was ice cold to the
touch; Despite her being positioned directly in the sunlight.  This sent an
uneasy chill through the first responders and as they awaited the arrival
of the coroner; One checked to see if the thermostat was set too low.
That's when they discovered, that not only was the thermostat set in the
off position but the power to the hotel had been disconnected by the power
company some weeks before; Due to an unpaid overdue electric bill.

Finally, once the coroner arrived and my mother's body was transported out
of the hotel; The coroner's assistant closed the front door and all the
other exterior doors slammed shut.  They locked the instant they closed and
no one has entered the building since that day.

Several weeks passed, my mother was laid to rest and a lawyer in charge of
her final affairs contacted my brother James and I.  That's when we learned
of her enormous life insurance policy.  Nearly half a million dollars had
been entrusted to James and I, with an unusual stipulation attached.  The
money could not be used for anything other than the remodeling and
restoration of the hotel.  We couldn't even gain access to the account,
until we'd each signed a notarized contract forbidding us from misusing the
money.

Now remember, my brother already cared very little for our mother and so
once he learned of her final wishes with regards to her life insurance; He
swore there and then, that he wanted nothing to do with her or the hotel.
He signed the agreement but only so that the account could be unsealed.  An
once it was, he told me that if I wanted to take on the challenge of
restoring the property, that I would have to do it without his help.

Needless to say, I accepted the responsibility being levied on my shoulders
out of respect for my mother.  I just wished that James had been more
receptive to the idea of making granting our mother her final wish; Of
having the hotel restored and returned to it's former glory.

So it was without my brother, that I arrived at The Telford Hotel in the
small town of White Springs, FL...

- Chapter One: "The Telford Hotel"

It would be just my luck, that I'd drive up upon the old hotel just before
a thunderstorm.  The sky was darkening as I drove my truck up to the red
brick and quartz infused limestone structure.  I'd done a bit of research
online before making the journey to the place and had learned quite a bit
about it.  But nothing could really prepare me for what it was going to be
like standing there in it's shadow.  Just looking at it gave me the
shivers.

It was hard to imagine that such a place even existed and now I was it's
owner.  To be honest, I had never even heard of the Town of White Springs,
much less had I ever been there.  It was just a short drive from where my
family and I lived but for the life of me, I had not once ventured through
it.  Not until this day, a day that I will remember forever.

As I stepped out of my truck, dressed in my favorite black work jeans and
plaid long sleeve shirt.  The weather had turned cold on this day in the
early weeks of January.  There was a brisk wind blowing as the storm
approached and I knew I needed to gather my things from the truck in order
to camp out in the hotel for the night.

Once I had my belongings; Which consisted of my backpack and sleeping bag,
I closed the door of my truck and headed up the steps to the cement patio,
that graced the front of the building.  There, I took a moment to glance up
at the three-story masonry building.  An as I did, I was reminded of what I
had read about the place.

Apparently, the Native Americans were the first to seek out the healing
sulphur waters of the local spring; For which the town gets it's name.  To
the present-day travelers who enjoy the wide variety of recreational
opportunities along the Suwannee River and the historical significance of
the Town of White Springs, tourists have historically been lured to the
natural resources around the Suwannee River's White Springs.

The Suwannee River was made famous by Stephen Foster in the song Old Folks
at Home, and serves as the backdrop for the town that was Florida's
original tourist destination.  From the mid-1800s to the early 1900s,
tourists came by horseback, stagecoach, and train to stay in luxurious
hotels like the landmark Telford Hotel on River Street; White Spring's only
resort hotel built during the town's golden age of tourism.

The three-story building was built from a combination of brick, quartz and
limestone, back in 1902 by W. B. Telford; And became the seventh hotel in
White Springs when it opened in the summer of 1903. J. W. Bynum, who also
built the Presbyterian Church and other buildings in town, was the
contractor. The Telford featured its own acetylene powered lighting system
and water plant.  An that set it apart from every other building in town,
if you can believe it.  It's hard to imagine now, what it must have been
like when in-door plumbing and lighting was considered a luxury.

The hotel was originally built with a broad two-tier veranda with square
tapered columns, that extended across the front facade and rounded the left
corner.  Unfortunately, at this point in time the veranda is no more as it
has since crumbled and been removed.  As I stood there looking up at where
it once was , I could see where the old floor-joists that supported the
veranda used to be.  An I remember thinking about all the manual labor is
was going to take to restore that massive porch.

There was so much woodwork needed in it's construction, that I knew I was
going to have to hire a crew to do the job, if there was any chance of it
ever being restored.  As I stood there a bit overwhelmed by that idea
itself, I couldn't help but feel as though the building felt as if it has
been defaced and scarred by the passage of time.  An I think that's what
made me even more determined to see it brought back to it's original glory.
If there was a will, there was a way and where there's money, there's will.

Just then, thunder from the approaching storm echoed overhead and I
clutched my belongings tight as I ducked under the temporary canopy, that
protruded out over the front doorway.  The grand entrance stood centered in
the middle of the building and it was a quite large door, made of panels
and glass.  Through the glass I could see the main lobby beyond.

It was as I was standing there peering through the door, that I heard
another rumble of thunder and moved over a few feet to look up towards the
gable dormers, that set in the mansard roof above of the third floor; Which
was faced with patterned metal shingles.  It was in one of those windows,
that my mother had died and just looking up there, made my heart ache.  I
wondered how long she must have set kneeling in that window before the
passerby had noticed her.  How many days, weeks or even months had she been
there?

I remember feeling as if I could almost feel her loneliness as I felt the
first drops of rain begin to fall.  That's when I reached into my pocket
and retrieved the key to the door.  I inserted it and the door unlocked
with ease.  Though it was still a bit difficult to push open.  It took a
lot of force but I eventually was able to shove it open and stepped inside.

Once there, I took a moment to look around the lobby and discovered that
there was a museum of sorts.  There were display cases, which housed
memorabilia from days gone by and one display in-particular caught my eye.
Inside it, there was an old hotel log and in it were the names of past
visitors.  Most I didn't recognize but three stood out to me.

That's when I remembered reading that over the years, the hotel had hosted
Presidents Theodore Roosevelt and Howard Taft, along with Robert Ripley of
Believe It Or Not fame.  I suppose they would have had little other choices
when visiting the town, since The Telford was the last remaining of the
original 15 hotels in White Springs.

Just knowing that, it seemed really sad and also predestined, that of all
the hotels that had come before; The Telford was the only one remaining.
It was only when I began to venture deeper into the building and saw the
pictures on the walls, that I began to get a sense of the powerful history
behind the hotel.  Back in it's heyday, it truly was the heart of White
Springs.  The town had once boasted extravagant spas, fine dining, and
elegant services for visitors seeking the medicinal cures of the sulfur
spring.  An The Telford was at the very center of all the action.

However, during the 1950s and 1960s the Stephen Foster Center, with its
larger museum, Campanile Tower, and many exhibits, became one of Florida's
premier tourist attractions for the automobile travelers who came through
White Springs by the thousands on US 41, the major north/south artery in
the Sunshine State before Interstate highways.

This drew visitors to the town but also away from the hotel.  An once the
Interstates were established, the town all but dried up.  That said, every
spring the Stephen Foster Center hosts the nationally recognized Florida
Folk Festival bringing nationally recognized musicians, artists, dancers
and craftsmen to the town in celebration of the diverse cultures that all
Floridians share.

After glancing over the pictures and other memorabilia in the lobby; I
approached the front desk and noticed an old fashioned telephone hanging on
the wall.  You know the kind made of wood with a separate receiver on a
cord that rested on a hook.  It looked ancient but I had a feeling it
probably still worked.  That's when I also noticed a bell on the desk and
without thinking, I tapped it and it rang.

The sound of the bell echoed throughout the lobby and I remember wondering
to myself, what it must have been like in those days.  Would a bellhop or
bellboy come down the stairs to carry my things to my room?  How much was
it to rent a room for the night or weekend?  These were all things I
thought to myself as I looked around the room at the living history around
me.

That's when I happened to catch a glimpse of a hallway, tucked behind the
front desk and decided to venture into it.  There I found two restrooms
directly behind the desk and a hall that led into another part of the
building.  I wandered down the hall and was amazed when I arrived in the
old hotel bar.  It looked as though it had never been touched in all those
years.  Well, with the exception of the billairds table.  That look
relatively new but the bar counter looked very old and intricate.

Being a bartender myself, I stepped over to the counter and placed my
things down on a table in front of it.  An after stepping behind the
counter, I was instantly reminded of Dipsticks; Where I'd worked for nearly
a year now.  Although now, I had decided to cut my hours to only weekends.
You know, because I had this place to work on and such.  But that said,
being there behind the bar made me feel at home.

Oddly enough, the scent of cigar smoke was still heavy in the air and if I
hadn't known better; I'd have thought that there had been guests there only
hours before.  The smell of smoke was so potent and recent.  I was
surprised at how it seemed to linger in the air and I took a moment to
sniff the counter; Thinking that the wood must have absorbed the scent over
the years or something.  But the wooden counter smelled of nothing more
than liquor and spilled beer.

It was as I was getting close and personal with the woodwork, that I
happened to realize that it was not all it appeared to be.  I could see
that it wasn't actually as well made as it looked from a distance but
rather it appeared to have been made from pressed-wood.  A technique not
known back in the early days but a common way of making things today.
That's when I remembered, something I had read about the bar counter having
been a movie prop in a western or something.  An it had been moved to the
hotel later on.

This made sense to me but also diminished it's significance in my mind.  It
was movie prop and nothing more.  Functional but still fake.  An with that,
I made my way over to the billiards table and plucked a ball from one of
the pockets.  I rolled it across the table and as it fell into another
pocket, a rumble of thunder echoed throughout the building.  I caught me by
surprise but once I realized it was just thunder I laughed to myself.

Then I stood there looking around the empty room for a moment.  It was so
quite that I could have heard a pin drop.  An I probably would have, had it
not been for another rumble of thunder outside.  Soon came the rain and I
listened as it fell on the metal roof of the building.  Mind you, I was on
the first floor at this point and so hearing the rain was not easy.

In fact, I had to strain my ears to hear the faint sound of raindrops.
Most of which, were coming from the roof over the stoop, just outside the
main bar room door.  It was as I was listening to the rain, that I thought
for a moment that I'd heard a beeping sound.  Thinking back to what the
coroner had told me, I thought to look for smoke alarms.  I don't know why
but for some reason, I wanted to double-check them to see if what the first
responders had experienced had any truth to it.  So I headed back through
the hallway and into the lobby to make my way up upstairs.

I arrived shortly there after at the grand staircase.  Not only was it
grand but it was the only way to move between floors.  Though back in the
old days, the veranda also served as a means of joining the first and
second floors but with it gone, the grand staircase was the only way.

I could tell from looking at it, that it was still completely original and
had not been changed or modified over the years.  I placed my hand on the
wooden railing and took a few steps up the stairs.  Only to get the start
of my life, when I heard a loud beep come from behind my head.  I turned
and looked up to find a smoke alarm was mounted there on the header above
the steps.

Thinking back to what the coroner had told me, I grabbed hold of the alarm
and pulled the cover off to reveal the battery compartment.  However to my
shock and disbelief, there was no battery inside to be found.  How was it
beeping?  I thought to myself.

Just then, another loud beep echoed from somewhere upstairs and I closed
the cover on the alarm and headed to the second floor.  Once there, I heard
a chorus of beeps.  Some loud and some faint.  Some from near where I was
standing and others much further off in the distance.  That's when I
decided to do what only white people do and go investigate.  You know,
because in movies you never see a black person do that.  It's only the
white people who are stupid enough to go looking for what scares them.

An I was about to prove the movies right by venturing down the halls of the
hotel, in search of the beeping; That's when I came to discover just how
much of a hoarder my mother had been.  Unlike the downstairs, the upstairs
was cluttered with stuff.  Junk really.  Old books, boxes, clothes; You
name it, it was probably lining the halls.  In some places it was stacked
to the ceiling with the stuff.

So as I walked around following the beeps, I had to avoid tripping over
boxes and totes of stuff she had collected over the years.  Directly across
from the stairwell was a door that lead back outside but the door had been
blocked with stuff.  This was probably a good thing, because if I had
somehow managed to go out there, I would have fell to my death.

You see, that door lead to the second floor of the veranda and it was no
longer there.  So that left me with only two options.  To go either left of
right.  So I headed to the left of the stairwell and made my way down what
looked like the cleanest hallway.  There I walked all the way to the end,
before realizing that the beeps were coming from the opposite direction.
An it was on my way back, that I pushed open the doors to the various room
along the way.

Each time I peeked inside and took note of what I found.  In that hallway,
which I would come to call the East Wing, there was a bathroom and four
bedrooms.  Each looked rather untouched by the passage of time.  Sure the
furniture wasn't original but the rooms themselves were much the same as
they had been back in 1903.  They each featured a small sink, just inside
the door as was the fancy thing to have back in those days.

The bathroom looked remarkably clean but nowhere near modern with it's
claw-foot tub, toilet and sink.  How people could live without a shower
back in those days was beyond me.  An after exploring that wing of the
building, I headed down the opposite hallway of which I called the West
Wing.

This hallway mirrored the other with the exception that there was one extra
door.  It was between a bedroom and the bathroom; An the longer I stood
there looking at it, the more I felt that it was completely out of place.
I took a closer look and upon further examination, I discovered that it had
indeed been recessed into what should have been another hallway.

I tell you, this door felt so odd and out of place, that I almost didn't
want to open it.  In fact, it was as I was about to pull it open, that I
noticed it had two doorknobs.  Each with their key slots facing into the
hallway where I was standing.  Which meant that it was intended to be
locked in order to keep people out of whatever was beyond it.  It also
meant, that if you found yourself on the other side of the door; You would
be able to get back into the hallway.

That, as I was about to find out had been the actual intention for the
outward facing knobs.  You see, I pulled the door open and found that it
lead to another hallway.  One which I will call the Second Floor Addition.
That's because as it would turn out, this hallway and the rooms it serviced
was located above the bar room; And was not part of the original hotel
construction.  It had been built at a later date, during the height of the
tourist boom.

This addition was unlike any other part of the hotel that I had seen thus
far.  Unlike the East and West Wings, this wing looked as though it had
come straight out of 1903.  The walls were lined with cracks.  The ceiling
was missing in some parts and some of the ten rooms along that hallway had
their walls partially collapsed inward.  I hadn't noticed from the outside,
that this portion of the hotel had some damage to the exterior wall on the
second floor.  An at this point, I had no idea how it could have gotten
there.

I made my way through the door and stepped through into the hallway of the
addition; Only to become overwhelmed with fear.  Not fear of someone but
rather a phobia of being locked inside the hallway.  I kid you not as I
walked through the narrow hall, I began to feel as though the walls were
beginning to close in on me.  It was a crushing feeling.  My breathing
became shallow and by the time I reached the end and turned around again, I
wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there.

I remember staring at the door at the end of the hallway and expecting it
to close on me.  Not only was I afraid that it would close but I was now
fearing that each of the ten doors in the hallway were going to slam shut.
That's when I began to rush back towards the open door and I could have
sworn the room doors were closing behind me.

Thankfully, once I had made it out of the hallway and turned around to
close the door; I was able to see that none of the doors behind me had
closed but nevertheless, I sure as hell closed that door in a hurry.  I
don't know what it was about that part of the building that made me feel so
uneasy but I was so glad to get out of there.

That is until, I heard a blood curdling scream.  Yeah, that happened.  I
had just closed the door and was about to head back towards the staircase;
When I heard a scream come from the room beside me.  An being a stupid
white person, I just had to go and see what it was.  I rushed around the to
the door of the room and forced it open, expecting to see.  Um, hell I
don't know.  I don't know what could have made that scream but I shoved the
door open and found a room that looked nothing like the others.

This room was dark and I don't mean just because of the dark purple shag
carpeting that lined the walls.  Yeah, you read that right.  There was dark
purple shag carpeting on the walls.  The walls, floor and and ceiling were
covered in it.  The only part left exposed was the window; Which cast light
in so that I could see.  But I really wish whoever had carpeted the walls
had carpeted over that too, because then I wouldn't have been able to see
the writing on the walls.  An I don't mean that figuratively.

Someone had quite literally written on the carpeted walls, most likely with
their finger or some other sharp object.  An there on the back wall of the
room were the words, 'Get Out Now!'.  Seeing this, I nearly shit my pants.
My legs began to shake and I could feel a little bit of piss start to
dribble from my dick as I stared at the writing.

I don't know how long I looked but I eventually came to my senses and said
out loud, "Holy fuck..."

However, I probably should have kept my mouth shut; Because that's when
another voice.

At least, I think it was another voice, said back to me in a very deep,
growling tone, "HOLY FUCK!"

An that's when I did piss my pants a bit.  I also pulled the door shut and
took off running towards the stairs like lightning.  My heart was racing.
My head was spinning and instead of headed down the stairs I ended up
running up them towards the third floor.

I don't know why but I didn't think twice about it, until I'd found myself
confronted with another out of place looking door at the top of the stairs.
I rounded the banister and stood motionless and shaken as I looked at a
plain white door; Where an opening should have been and it was clear from
the way it had been built, that it was done so in a hurry.  It wasn't quite
finished off and some of the molding was missing.

Not wanting to go back downstairs, I pushed the door open and stepped into
what I can only describe as a very large banquet area.  It was completely
empty and spanned the whole length of the building.  An there, laying on
the floor in the middle of the room were my belongings.  Yes, that's right.
The same sleeping bag and backpack I had brought inside and left downstairs
in the bar room had now mysteriously appeared on the third floor.

I had no explanation for this as I was the only person in the building or
so I thought.  I stepped over to check that everything was there and it
was.  Nothing was out of place.  It had all simply been moved from where it
had been to where it was now.  I couldn't explain it.  I couldn't even
figure out how someone could have moved it without me noticing them.

It was as if it had been placed there for me to find.  Perhaps by someone
knowing that I would eventually come to this banquet area.  Perhaps they
knew I would need my things or perhaps they didn't like me leaving my stuff
all over the place; Which felt kind of silly, when you consider all the
other stuff that was cluttering the halls.  What was one more pile of crap
among the rest, you know?

Anyway, I sat down on the floor beside my bags and that's when I happened
to glance over towards the window.  The very same window that my mother's
body had been found in.  An that's when I also suddenly realized, that I
could no longer hear the beeping sound.  In fact, up on the third floor
there was little to no sound at all.  Even my breathing made no noise and
it should have, since I was breathing heavy after all that running.

The air was cold but not freezing and I felt uplifted in someway.  I mean,
not just emotionally but I literally felt as though I was somehow above the
other floor.  I know that sounds strange but it's how I felt.  Like I was
on a cloud of some kind, above the noise and negative energy of the floor
beneath me.  An that's truly how I felt.  There was a freedom up there,
like nothing I had ever felt before.

I made my way to the window where my mother had been and looked out over
the street below; An as I stared out I felt as though I was high above all
of it.  As if none of it mattered.  I was in a cloud up there and nothing
could touch me.  Nothing could hold me back.  I was free.

I must have sat there on the ledge of that window for a good hour or more,
alone with my thoughts and staring out across the street.  I don't remember
what I was thinking about to tell you the truth but I was thinking about
something.  Or perhaps it was the lack of thought that really surprised me.

However, I was not truly alone with my thoughts.  You see, from where I was
sitting I could also see a man across the street.  He was sitting on the
porch of a blue Victorian style home across the street from the hotel.  An
as I sat there looking at him, I thought back to my arrival.  I'd almost
not noticed him at first but thinking back on it, he had been there when I
first pulled up to the hotel.

A man dressed in a light blue shirt and jeans with a full head of white
hair and a beard.  He looked so old and tired, even from all the way up
there.  It wasn't until I'd taken a really good hard long look at him, that
I began to realize, he hadn't moved from that spot in hours.  It must have
been at least a couple of hours since I'd first arrived but he was still
there.

Not only was he still there but he wasn't moving and I don't mean as in
walking about.  I mean breathing.  He was just sitting there in a chair on
the porch, staring directly ahead at the hotel and his head didn't move not
once.  Not even as the occasional car drove by in front of him.  He just
sat, never moving, completely fixated on the hotel.

I probably could have kept on staring at him and day dreaming for who knows
how long, if it hadn't been for my stomach beginning to growl.  I was
hungry and I remembered, that I had brought with me a few poptarts and a
soda in my backpack.  So I moved away from the window and returned to the
middle of the room; Where I set up camp for the night.

I laid out my sleeping bag, ate my snacks and even took out my laptop.  I
had a full charge on my battery, so I figured I should have had enough time
to surf the net awhile before finally calling it a night.  The power had
yet to be restored to the building and so I'd also brought a flashlight
with me.  I quite honestly thought I was going to camp out all night there.
But little did I know, that the old hotel had other plans for me that
night.

After setting up my laptop and using my smart phone to setup a wifi
hotspot; I spend an hour or so watching internet porn and jerking off.  You
know, because that's the only way to get to sleep these days.  I'm sure
you've done it.  Heck, I bet you're doing it right now.

Anyway, after watching some hot daddy/son gay porn, I shut the laptop down
for the night and tucked myself into my sleeping bag.  I got naked and
comfortable.  Since, well, I was alone and the place was all mine.  So I
wasn't worried about being caught naked in my own hotel.

However, looking back on it I probably should have at least left my
underwear on.  That would have made things a little less awkward later.
You see, as I laid there in my sleeping bag, I began to doze off to sleep
but before I could or at least I think it was before then; I felt something
move.  An I mean, something inside the sleeping bag and it wasn't me.  Not
knowing what it was, I picked up my flashlight and shined the light down on
the bag.

An I stared down towards my feet; Where I saw a large lump in the material
near by knees.  I watched it for a moment and began to panic when I saw it
move to the same motion as the feeling I felt moving inside the bag with
me.

A part of me wanted to bolt out of there so fast and yet another part of
me, quite possibly the naive and stupid white person part of me, wanted to
pull the covers back to see what was down inside there.  Naturally, it was
that part of myself that won out and I regretfully eased the covers back.

That's when the face of a little black boy popped up from under the covers
and stared me right in the face.  In the light of the flashlight, his black
face and white eyes stared back at me and I was speechless and unable to
move.  We just looked at each other for what felt like forever and I had
enough time to see, that he couldn't have been more than 10 years old.  He
had a head of thick black hair, that poofed out in an Afro but the rest of
him was still completely in the dark to me.

So I turned the flashlight just a bit and shined it down inside the
sleeping bag to find that he was just as naked as I was.  An he had his
right hand gripped tightly around my 7" cut dick.  Like I said, I was in
total shock and completely speechless.

But that didn't stop him from saying to me in a very soft little voice,
"You're warm."

No sooner than those words came out of his mouth, I went into a full on
panic and began frantically unzipping the sleeping bag.  An in doing so,
the flashlight slipped from my hand and fell to the floor.  It rolled a few
feet and shined directly on the door; Which I thought was perfect, because
I was about to run the hell out of there.

However, not before making sure I wasn't seeing things.  I'd unzipped the
sleeping bag and literally jump out of it; An was now looking at for signs
of life.  Only then I realized that there was no longer any hump or bulge
in the bag but I still kicked it around just to be sure there was no one in
there.  I even picked it up and shook it around to make absolutely sure
that it was empty.  An as you might have guessed, it was.

There was no little black boy to be found or anything else for that matter.
I stood there shaking with panic and now knowing that my sleeping bag was
empty, I turned to run for the door.  An that's when I saw him, he was
standing there in the light of the flashlight blocking my escape.  Him in
all his black nakedness.  He was very fit for such a young boy and his dick
was honestly impressively large for his age.  It must have been at least 6"
and uncut.  He had a great set of abs on him but I think it was his little
pecs that really drew my attention.  Each of his nipples was hard and
pointy as if they'd been stricken with cold.

That's when I myself realized, that the room was now freakishly cold.  I
was shivering and my breath was making fog as I breathed.

"I'm cold."  He said again, in the same soft little voice.

I believe that's when I discovered that the hotel had a fire-escape; Two of
them actually, one at each end of the building and they had doors leading
to them directly from the third floor.  An that's exactly where I headed in
my panic-stricken fit.  I ran for the fire exit on the left side of the
room and kicked the door open.

Once it was open, I bolted down the old metal stairs as fast as I could and
after reaching the ground, I ran to my truck.  The rain was still pouring
down but it was now dark outside.  Only a single streetlight illuminated
the street in front of the hotel and in that light, I could see the old man
was still sitting on his porch.  He didn't move, not even a muscle as I
sought cover in my truck.

Even once I was back in the safety of my truck, I looked through the back
window and watched him for several minutes.  Who was this guy?  Surely he
couldn't sit out there forever, I thought to myself.  Little did I know,
how wrong I was in that.  I spent the rest of the night, huddled my truck,
naked and scared.

It was during the night, that I kept watch on the hotel and through the
rain stained windows of my truck, I saw lights inside the building.  Room
after room, lights darted about.  A twinkle here, a glow there.  Was it
candles?  Flashlights?  I wondered to myself.  I knew the power wasn't on
and there wasn't supposed to be anyone else in there but me.

However, given my experience upstairs; I had a feeling my hotel was not as
empty as I'd been lead to believe.  You can call me skeptic, my brother
James surely would but I had no explanation for what had happened to me up
there.  Nor could I could explain what I was seeing from my truck.  There
was someone or many someone's walking the halls of that hotel in the middle
of the night.  Be they living, dead or something in-between.

An judging from the man on the porch across the street, the activity in The
Telford, in the sleepy little Town of White Springs, FL was not limited to
just the hotel.  That man stayed on his porch all night.  Even as the sun
rose the following day, he was still there.  I know, because I eventually
had to venture out of my truck and I saw him.  My hairy naked ass streaked
across the courtyard and back up the stairs of the fire-escape that morning
to retrieve my belongings.

Once I had them, I made my way back down through the staircase and to the
lobby; Where I approached the desk and rang the bell.

The sound echoed and I said out loud for all to hear, "I'm checking out
now."

Then I turned and headed for the door to leave.  It was as I was making my
way towards it, that I heard from over my shoulder a voice, soft and young.

"You'll be back."  They said and I knew they were right.

After all, this was my hotel now.  I owned it and there was work to be
done.  I just didn't realize the depth and scope of that work or how it was
going change me and my family's life over the next several months to a
year.

The Telford has secrets.  A past that has gone hidden and been obscured
from view.  To revive it is to relive it and to relive it is to become part
of it.  An a part of it, we were about to become.

-

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