x
Even though it'd been a long time since any signs of a demonic force had shown itself, Wilma still felt uneasy inside the place. Carlos usually stayed upstairs in his apartment until the bar opened for business, waking up at the same time as the guests did. Lacy Novak, nicknamed "Texicana," was the first of the waitresses to arrive for work on this Saturday evening.
Texicana was single and lived in an apartment in Pepper, about two miles from the resort. She has four sisters and one brother. She attended Kline High School. Since graduation, she has spent most of her time working as a cashier during the day and a waitress at night.
The following is the result of several joint, and individual, interviews with Wilma Cassidy, Carlos Gutierrez, and Lacy Novak. This is the way they agree it all happened.191Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡk3aoO6NC5T
191Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJ1WHaGku8x
191Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡc2s3poZKCG
191Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnPNpptGMCD
191Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBbxZfOwDaJ
191Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5LiQFz9Pwp
191Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbVjn9wRobG
Wilma arrived at the resort around ten minutes past seven. She wanted to get there before the help began arriving around seven-thirty. She didn't relish the idea of being alone in the building, even for a few minutes, but she knew Carlos would be upstairs in the apartment if she needed him, and he had repeatedly assured her that the evil was gone.
She hated everything about the building, but she knew she would never convince Buck to sell the property. Business was excellent, the rooms full of guests, and he still did not believe any of the stories about the ghosts.
From the moment she stepped inside the resort, she felt a sense of aloneness, yet she felt as if she was being watched. She tried to dismiss the thought as she walked through the mirrored hallway and entered the main ballroom, but she hadn't felt this way since before Carlos sealed the pit. This was not just her natural jumpiness. This was the same sense of foreboding she had experienced before.
As Wilma moved through the room, her eyes locked on Carlos at the end of the bar. However, her excitement quickly turned to shock as she took in his new '60s throwback appearance. His hair was longer, his clothes more colorful and psychedelic than ever before. There was a distinct aroma in the air, a mixture of tobacco and something else, something pungent and unmistakable—pot. Confusion clouded Wilma's mind. What had happened to Carlos? Why was he suddenly embracing this hippie persona? She couldn't help but wonder what had come over him.
"Carlos," she blurted out, "what's with the getup? You look like you just stepped out of a time machine. What's going on?"
"Don't sweat it," Carlos replied with a casual shrug. "Just felt like trying out a different vibe, you know? Thought I'd channel some '60s mojo for a change. Figured it'd be a trip. No biggie."
"I'm not buying it," Wilma said with a serious tone. "You need to level with me. What's going on here?"
"Chill out!" Carlos retorted. "What's supposed to be going on?"
"Remember that exorcism thing you did over the pit?" Wilma said, her annoyance palpable. "Ever since then, I've felt safe. But just now, walking into this place, I got that same feeling I had when I was attacked before. There's only one explanation: the evil is back. Why is that? And why are you talking like some teenager from the past?"
"Hey, Wilma," Carlos retorted, his anger rising. "Why are you asking all this? And what's it to you how I talk? Mind your own business!"
"Because if you let those demons out, why? Why did you do it?" Wilma questioned, her tone defensive. "Something's watching us, Carlos, and I need....."
"I didn't let the demons out, okay? It's over, Wilma! Over! I don't ever wanna talk about it again, for the rest of my life!" Carlos exclaimed, his tone reflecting adolescent rage.
Wilma was startled by Carlos's sudden regression. His outburst was unlike anything she had seen from him before. As she processed the change in his demeanor, a chilling realization washed over her like a wave crashing against rocks. It wasn't the building that was causing her fear in this moment; it was Carlos himself who sent shivers down her spine. His altered language and appearance only added to her unease. Questions raced through her mind. What had happened to him? Why was he different now? Yet, as she glanced around the familiar surroundings of the building, she realized that nothing had changed within its walls. Everything appeared as it had for the past few months. Despite this, a growing sense of dread gripped her, emanating from Carlos like a palpable force of evil.
Before she could respond to Carlos's outburst the handyman clenched his fists, wheeled around, climbed off the barstool, and walked away from her, stomping his feet as he went.
Wilma sat there motionless, watching the man, or overgrown teenager, as he seemed to have become, storm from the ballroom and disappear into the Arcade, heading for the upstairs apartment. For some odd reason, their conversation had caused Carlos to become enraged. He wasn't going to discuss the possibility that the evil spirits had returned. Why not? The question tortured Wilma.
Carlos was keeping something from her, but what? She wondered as she forced herself to get going. The waitresses would be arriving soon and she had to get everything in order before the ballroom opened for business at eight o'clock.
Wilma busied herself turning on all the lights, and then checking all the bottles of liquor behind the bar to make sure she had an ample supply of booze for the large crowd of guests who'd soon be plowing through the front doors.
Wilma had managed the whole operation as much as possible. She always arrived early and assigned each employee their duties before the ballroom opened. Buck always showed up around 10:30 and gave 3 45-minute shows before the ballroom closed at 3:00 in the morning. Everything had gone okay until tonight. This can't be happening again, she thought as s he checked the inventory behind her.
Wilma kept flashing back to the first day that she'd entered this building. She felt the presence of evil then, something watching her every move, but try as she may, she was never able to convince Buck that the damn place was haunted.
She tried to force herself to forget about the demonic attacks that she had endured, but the thoughts stuck with her, and refused to leave. The prior months of being terrorized by some demonic thing were still buried deep in her mind.
She tried to tell herself to forget it, but she couldn't shake the memories.
Something was wrong....worse than before. She grabbed a bar towel and began wiping down the black countertop just as Lacy Novak pushed through the swinging double doors of the mirrored hallway. The woman was wearing a black jumpsuit and black patent leather shoes.
Wilma looked up and felt a sigh of relief when she saw a friendly face. "Hi, Texicana!" Wilma said with a jubilant tone. She was glad someone had arrived. She would be okay now. She wasn't alone in the ballroom anymore.
"How's it going?" Texicana asked as she walked over to the middle of the bar and sat down on the stool facing Wilma, who was still behind the bar.
"Okay....now!" Wilma laughed.
"Now?" the woman said. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." Wilma giggled. "Just a personal joke."
Texicana was a waitress at the resort, but she didn't know about the ghosts and spirits that had been there. Buck had given explicit instructions to both Carlos and Wilma not to discuss the matter with the employees or the customers. Carlos had told him of his ordeal in the tunnels and how he had done an exorcism, sealing the evil spirits back in Hell, and, as far as Buck was concerned, that was that. He still didn't believe any of Carlos and Wilma's story, but if they wanted to believe the spirits were sealed in Hell, that was fine with him, so long as it was never mentioned again.
Wilma and Texicana began discussing where the waitresses would work that night. The rows of tables had been divided up into sections with each waitress being given a designated area to work each evening. Wilma changed the station assignments almost daily so the women got equal chances at obtaining the highest tips. The big spenders were usually near the front of the ballroom by the dance floor and stage.
Texicana was assigned that particular area tonight, so, while Wilma continued wiping the bar, the woman ambled over to the front row of tables to make sure the checkered tablecloths were on straight and that each and every table had a glass ashtray on it.
Lacy Novak, known affectionately as "Texicana" among her patrons, earned her nickname from her vibrant personality and undeniable Texan charm. Originally hailing from a small town in South Texas, Lacy embodied the spirit of the Lone Star State with her warm smile, Southern hospitality, and unmistakable Tex-Mex flair. With sun-kissed skin, long flowing hair the color of Texas mesquite, and a figure that hinted at her love for Texan cuisine, Lacy exuded confidence and exuberance wherever she went. Despite life's challenges, Lacy's unwavering positivity and infectious laughter endeared her to customers and colleagues alike, making her a beloved figure in her community.
As Texicana busied herself, a sudden cold chill pierced her body. It was like a wall of ice passing through her, causing the hairs on the back of her neck and arms to bristle and stand out at attention. She stopped and looked around the room to see what had caused her to experience this odd feeling. It was about 80 degrees inside the building. The air conditioner was on the blink, and there was no reason for such a chill. After carefully surveying the room with her eyes, Texicana shrugged off the eerie feeling and continued her chores, but, just as she started to push a chair closer to the table, she felt something breathing on the back of her neck, causing the hair on her nape to ripple. She whirled around to see who was behind her and found herself being overcome by a gut-wrenching fear when she found nobody there.
Just as all seemed to return to normal and she tried to dismiss the unexplainable events that had just occurred, the jukebox whirred into life by itself, playing a Dolly Parton song at slow speed.
Texicana spun around and stared at the glass machine, then searched the vacant stage with her eyes. Microphone stands were spread out around the platform and the white drum set and cymbals sat in the middle, towards the rear of the stage, but there wasn't anybody there. She scanned the rest of the room only to find herself all alone.
Texicana moved slowly past the jukebox and crossed into the bull room. She searched the area for any sign of people in the room but to no avail. What in the world's happening, she wondered. Either someone's playing a sick joke on me or I'm going crazy!
She headed toward the ballroom to tell Wilma what had happened, but when she reached the bar she saw that Wilma wasn't there. Texicana crossed the black tile floor and then walked through the arched doorway into the Arcade in search of her boss.
As she stepped into the room, she heard something coming from inside the liquor storage room, which was located in the far right-hand corner of the chamber. She crossed over the floor past the two pool tables and reached out for the doorknob when suddenly some invisible force slammed against her chest pushing her backward. The woman froze in horror and disbelief. Her eyes widened and her h heart began beating like a big bass drum. She stood perfectly still, staring at the wooden door in front of her.
"Wilma!" she tried to call out, but the words stuck in her throat.
The entity slammed her again, this time pushing her back about 3 feet. Texicana had no doubt now. Some evil thing was inside the building with her. It pushed her again. This time she stumbled backwards, swinging her arms behind her in case she fell. The frigid chill pierced her again and she immediately realized she had to get out of the building....now! She wheeled around and started for the ballroom, and, as she did, she saw Wilma coming through the doorway holding a big cardboard box.
Wilma recognized the look on Texicana's face. "What's wrong?"
Texicana turned back around and through the room, but saw nothing. She turned back toward Wilma with a horrified expression. "Somebody pushed me!" the girl choked out the words almost crying. "Not somebody," she stammered, "a ghost....something....bad!"
"My God!" Wilma almost screamed the words as she, too, searched the room with her eyes. "C'mon, Texicana. Let's get out of here!"
Wilma cautiously turned and walked back to the bar with Texicana right behind her. She laid the box of napkins in the middle of the bar and looked around the room. After what seemed an eternity of silence, Wilma turned toward Texicana.
"Don't be scared!" she said, trying to be reassuring. "It's okay."
"What the fuck's going on?" Texicana's voice was quivering. "You guys have a ghost problem.....don't you?"
Her words hit Wilma like a freight train. The entity had revealed itself to Texicana. There was no doubt in Wilma's mind now that the evil had returned. A Bible passage she'd learned while attending Sunday school flashed through her mind.
The Scripture referred to a man being possessed, not a building, but could it be the same? If so, then that meant whatever was here before brought back seven more unclean ghosts with it. The thought was terrifying! Why was Carlos acting so strange? Wilma suddenly wondered, could the evil force have taken control of him? Could he be possessed?
"Wilma! What's going on?" Texicana's urgency caused Wilma to snap back to the present.
The question hung in the air between them for several tense seconds, and then Wilma found the courage to tell Texicana of her own past experiences while inside the resort.
After finishing her weird tale, she pleaded with Texicana not to quit working for her and Buck. Texicana was more of a friend than an employee, and right now, Wilma needed all of the friends she could get.
"I won't quit," Texicana promised. "But I'll never come in here by myself, or be left alone in here again."
"Fair enough," Wilma agreed. "I don't blame you at all."
"What do we do now? I mean....how do you get rid of the spirits if they've come back?"
"I don't know. I'll have to talk to Carlos about it, but he's upset about something right now, so I'll talk to him later tonight."
Just as Wilma's words faded away, some of the other waitresses began arriving. Wilma greeted the ladies and began assigning them their duties for the night. Texicana stayed near the group, constantly looking over her shoulder and expecting anything to happen at any moment.
Wilma wondered if maybe she was wrong about Carlos. It might not be that some evil force was controlling him. It was possible that he knew the entity had returned, and just the thought of it had upset him so much that he couldn't discuss it. Maybe he'd been attacked by the diabolical force and didn't want to tell her for fear of upsetting her.
Whatever the case, Wilma had to get the ballroom open for business. Then after everything got in full swing, she was going upstairs to Carlos's apartment and confront him. He knew something and she was determined to find out.191Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJrO74RgLPF
