The Moonlight. It was one of the grand old hotels, the kind that had been built in an era when people could still afford to spend money on such extravagant buildings. It wasn't just a hotel; it was a destination. People came from all over the world just for its hospitality and ambiance.
The place had somewhat fallen from grace since its glory days, however. Carpets had worn, the wallpaper had faded, and the marble floors no longer gleamed like they used to. But despite these signs of neglect, there was something about it that never went out of style- it seemed timeless. One could picture it looking exactly as it did decades ago, when movie stars and aristocracy alike flocked here for their vacations.
The building itself was enormous, with countless wings sprouting out at odd angles like some sort of bizarre, sprawling underground burrow. Each door led to another hallway that would lead to yet another corridor- and so forth... ad infinitum. The place seemed to be designed by someone who'd never seen or even heard of a straight line.
And yet, despite its size, it managed to feel cozy. There were only three floors, but each floor felt like its own little piece of heaven. Even though there weren't many guests staying at the hotel these days, the staff made sure that every single guest got his or her fair share of attention.
All these things were why Bryant had chosen this particular establishment. He wanted to get away from reality, if only for a night. The Moonlight was a place where one could escape from trouble, at least temporarily, and let go of the burdens of daily life. That's what he needed right now: a break from everything.
He had arrived at the hotel at around seven o'clock that evening, after spending most of the day sitting in his office doing paperwork. After a week filled with meetings and negotiations, he really didn't want to deal with anything else. So instead of going home, he decided to take a little trip to the Moonlight. There were plenty of other places he could have gone, but none of them offered the same comfort and tranquility that this hotel did.
The receptionist was an elderly sheep, whose wool coat looked almost as old as the hotel herself. She wore a smile upon her face, which looked both welcoming and slightly sad. Her eyes twinkled behind her glasses, giving off a warm glow.
"Good evening, sir," she said in a soft voice. "Looking for a room for the night, I presume?"
Bryant nodded. "That's correct."
"Then we're happy to accommodate you," she chirped, before turning the guestbook towards him. "Just sign here, please, and I'll get your room key for you."
"Thank you very much." He took the pen and signed his name, then handed her the guestbook back.
She smiled again. "Welcome to the Moonlight!"
"Thank you."
She then handed him a key, an old, sizable one that had some actual weight to it. "It's room 613 on the second floor," she told him. "Enjoy your stay! And let me know if you have any problems, or encounter anything... unusual."
"Unusual?" Bryant asked. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, nothing much," she replied, smiling once more. "I just meant, if you run into anything strange while you're here, don't hesitate to tell us."
Bryant couldn't understand what she was implying, but didn't press further. Instead, he thanked her again and turned to leave, making his way to the second floor.
As he walked down the hall, he noticed how quiet and empty the entire place felt. Only a few lights were burning, barely illuminating the carpeted floor beneath his paws. It was all a bit eerie, but in spite of the darkness, there was a distinct feeling of peace and serenity throughout the whole place. This is exactly the type of environment I need right now, he thought, letting the silence fill up his mind.
He reached the end of the hall and found himself standing outside Room 613. The gold-plated numbers affixed to the door were fashioned with care, and possessed a certain elegance, reminding him of a time long past. A time when men were gentlemen, women were ladies, and class ruled supreme.
He turned the key in the lock, which unlocked with a satisfying click. Then he opened the door, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him.
The room was exactly as he expected, matching the rich sophistication of the rest of the building. The furnishings were well-crafted and expertly designed- simple and elegant, but also comfortable and inviting. All in all, it was quite a nice room, especially considering how cheap the price tag was.
He didn't pay much attention to the interior design however, and instead made a beeline for the bed, lying down on top of it with a sigh. His body ached in several different ways, and he was starting to feel pretty sleepy. He closed his eyes, and in minutes he was fast asleep.
...
Several hours later, Bryant awoke groggily, having been disturbed by a strange sound coming from outside his room. He sat up, yawning widely. For a moment, he forgot where he was, and wondered whether he was actually still at work; perhaps he had fallen asleep during one of his meetings. But no, he knew better than that. This was a hotel, not an office building...
Suddenly the noise that had woken him up became clearer, growing louder as it approached. It sounded like soft footfalls on a carpeted floor, and he knew that they were coming from the hall outside his door. Slowly, the footsteps grew closer, until finally they stopped directly in front of his door.
There was something about the way those feet moved that bothered him. They seemed too light, too graceful. As if whoever they were attached to weighed less than a feather. They were incredibly quiet, but somehow managed to make enough noise anyway. Still, despite their stealthy movements, the steps didn't seem threatening at all. In fact, they seemed rather timid.
Finally his curiosity got the best of him, and Bryant rose from the bed and crept towards the door. He could see an odd blue-green light coming in through the cracks, though he couldn't guess from where or what source it was coming from. Whatever it was, it wasn't natural.
His heart began to race as he neared the door, wondering who might be standing outside. Something wasn't right about the situation. For starters, what kind of person would be wandering around a hotel at such an ungodly hour? Why would anyone even be awake?
But most importantly: Who was it?
He pushed open the door slowly, and there before him was a tall, thin female fox with snow-white fur and long, silvery hair. Her piercing yellow eyes were intense and hypnotic, but also filled with a deep sadness that caught him completely off guard.
Her head was tilted to the side, gazing at him with a look of confusion and concern. She looked so fragile, yet also so powerful somehow. She stood there silently for a moment, staring at him, seemingly waiting for him to say something.
"Hello?" he called cautiously. "Who are you?"
The woman jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, and looked away from him quickly. She stood stock-still for a moment, staring at the floor, before looking back up at him.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice a mere whisper that sounded strangely far away. "I'm looking for my husband. He told me he was going to be here tonight, but he hasn't come back yet..."
"Your husband?" Bryant echoed. "Are you sure this isn't some sort of joke?"
She shook her head sadly. "No, no, it isn't a joke. My name is Lola. My husband's name is James," she said, her voice wavering slightly. "He told me he would meet me here."
Bryant frowned. "Are you sure you've got the right room?"
The woman nodded. "Yes, yes, I am," she said, her voice growing softer still. "Room 613. He told me so himself. Please, is he here? I must know..."
Bryant wanted nothing more than to close the door on her and go back to sleep, but something about her pleading tone and somber expression compelled him to help her. And while he didn't want to admit it, he felt curious. Part of him desperately wanted to find out what was happening, and why someone would be roaming around a hotel at two o'clock in the morning.
"You can come in if you like," he said, holding the door open for her. "But I'm sure your husband isn't here."
Lola stepped cautiously into the room, her paws making no sound at all as they touched the carpet. She seemed to drift weightlessly across the floor, almost floating. She appeared to have no real weight to her, as if only air existed beneath her skin. The fabric of her old-fashioned dress fluttered slightly as she moved, as if blown by a gentle gust of wind.
"Where did he go?" she said to no one, her voice sounding distant once again. "Why won't he answer me? Is he hurt? Did something happen to him?"
When she reached the bed, she paused, turning her head to stare at him once more. A chill ran down his spine, causing goosebumps to pop up all over his body. There was something about her eyes that was incredibly penetrating, like they could pierce his very soul.
"Please tell me he really did come," she whispered. "Tell me he's okay..."
Bryant hesitated, unsure whether he should help her or not. On the one hand, he felt bad for the poor thing. She obviously loved her husband very much, and was worried sick about him. But at the same time there was something strangely off-putting about her, and her presence was making him deeply uncomfortable for reasons he couldn't understand.
He sighed. "I-I'm sorry, ma'am, but no one's been in this room except me since last night," he explained. "In fact, I haven't seen anyone else in the entire building since I checked in... Besides you, of course."
Lola's face fell. She lowered herself onto the bed, sitting cross-legged on the sheets, her head hanging low.
"Then I must wait for him," she said. "And hope he comes soon... Or else I might never see him again..."
She closed her eyes and lay her head on the pillow. "Please forgive me," she said, her voice barely audible now. "I'm so tired... I've been searching for so long..."
With that, she drifted off to sleep, leaving Bryant feeling confused and unsettled. What just happened? Wasn't it strange how quiet she'd been? And then there was that weird glow... What was going on here?
He knew better than to disturb her slumber, and resigned himself to sleeping on the sofa for the rest of the night. It wasn't exactly ideal, but with the bed now occupied, there was no other choice. At least until she woke up again anyway. And who knew when that might be?
He sighed heavily, and lay himself down on the sofa. All he wanted now was to get some sleep, forget about everything, and start fresh tomorrow morning. Maybe that way he wouldn't feel quite so anxious about whatever had just happened.
"Goodnight, Lola," he said quietly, before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.
...
Several hours later, Bryant awoke to find that Lola had disappeared. There wasn't even a sign that the bed had been slept in since then, which puzzled him even further. Not even the slightest trace of fur or footprints were visible anywhere within the room. Had he imagined the whole thing? Perhaps he had simply dreamed it all up due to exhaustion after such a long day at work.
After a groggy breakfast, Bryant got dressed and headed to the front desk to check out. He was still feeling unnerved about the whole strange episode, and his overnight stay had turned out to not be nearly as restful as he had hoped. In spite of this, however, he still found himself wondering where Lola was now; perhaps he should try and track her down. After all, she hadn't left any contact information behind, and had simply vanished without saying goodbye.
The receptionist smiled as he approached the front desk, her eyes wrinkling at the corners.
"Did you sleep well, Mr. Bennett?" she asked, eyeing him curiously.
"Not particularly," he admitted, trying to appear casual. "I mean, it was fine. I guess."
The receptionist raised an eyebrow, looking suddenly concerned.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, sensing something amiss.
"Well, I was woken up by a strange woman last night," he said, yawning. "A fox named Lola. She was looking for her husband, and she seemed pretty upset."
The receptionist's eyes widened as though frightened, and she stared at him for several seconds before speaking.
"Oh dear, I knew I shouldn't have given you room 613..." she said, shaking her head sadly. "I apologize for my mistake. Please accept my deepest apologies..."
Bryant frowned, confused. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Is there something about this Lola woman I should know about?"
The receptionist took a deep breath, slowly exhaling it through pursed lips.
"I hesitate to say, sir, but you deserve to know..." she said. "That Lola you met last night... she died exactly thirty years ago... in room 613."

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