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Some of the people who told of their experiences while inside the resort stated that they did believe in the supernatural and always wanted to see a ghost.
Boris Pistorius grew up in the suburban neighborhood of Meyerland in Houston and graduated from Bellaire High School. With an intense gaze and dark hair, Boris's piercing blue eyes hint at a curiosity beyond his years. At the age of 17, Boris's passion for the occult sparked conflicts with his conservative parents, who viewed his interest in Ouija Boards and supernatural phenomena as nothing short of dangerous. Despite their warnings, Boris delved deeper into his exploration of the spirit world, convinced that there was more to reality than what meets the eye.
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The ballroom doors swung wide, welcoming the eager crowd on this brisk Friday evening. Outside, a biting wind whipped debris through the air, thick and unforgiving as molasses. Despite the fierce gusts, a throng of hopeful guests braved the elements, eager for a room to shelter them from the storm.
Carlos Gutierrez stood at the window in a black jogging suit, looking down at the crowd. His ears were tuned to catch the whispers in the wind. It'd been cloudy all day, but the rain had failed to fall. Dirt blew into the people's eyes, their hair, and between their teeth, as they shifted their weight from one foot to the other, fighting off the unusual icy complaint of the wind.
The backdrop of the overhead light shining in his apartment highlighted Carlos's figure. He looked at his reflection in the windowpane and noticed that his eyes had a veiled, liquid look to them. His face had undergone a bizarre transformation, now resembling that of an American with Scandinavian roots rather than his usual Hispanic appearance, complete with a sprinkling of freckles around his nose.
Downstairs, in the bull room, Boris Pastorius was busy checking the bolts on "El-Toro," the bucking mechanical bull. Buck insisted that the buckling apparatus be checked every night before the ballroom opened. He didn't want anyone getting hurt due to a loose nut or a mechanical defect.
It was part of Carlos's job to operate the bull, but earlier that night he told Wilma he didn't feel well and was going upstairs to his apartment to rest for a while.
Boris volunteered to run the machine, but Wilma had no choice but to accept his offer. He was wearing black cowboy boots with silver pointed toes, a red Wrangler rodeo shirt, and jeans. As he inspected the bolts underneath the bull, he saw that a nut had worked itself loose so he headed for the old kitchen that was located in the back of the ballroom, to get a wrench to tighten the nut. Buck kept a pretty good selection of tools inside the big gray toolbox in the shut-off kitchen for just this reason. It seemed that something always needed tightening or repairing.
Boris opened the door and without turning on the light, stepped inside the room, but, as he did, he saw something out of the corner of his eye, soaring through the air at him. He ducked just in the nick of time. A metal brace that had been lying on a nearby table came flying through the air directly at his head. The object slammed into the east wall with a loud thud and then fell to the floor.
Boris hurriedly looked around the room without saying a word and saw that he was the only one inside the cubicle. He knew there was no way in or out of the old kitchen, except through the doorway that he'd just passed through.
"Whoa, who chucked that at me?" he asked as his eyes continued searching the dimly lit shadows of the old kitchen. Boris stood his ground, looking in all directions, but as he did, he felt something breathing down the back of his neck. Without hesitation, he spun around and drew back his right hand, the fist clenched tightly, ready to strike whoever was behind him.
"Total crap!" He groaned when he realized that there was no one in the room with him. "If you're some ghost, you can pucker up and plant one on my behind! I ain't scared of you! Why don't you reveal yourself, huh?"
His challenge was met head-on! As he stood motionless, looking toward the far wall, something slammed against his chest, forcing him back toward the door. He swung wildly at the air but didn't connect with anything solid.
"Aw, crap!" he whispered with a low, shaky voice. "Holy smokes, it's a spook!"
Before he could turn to leave the room, something pierced his body from behind and came out of his chest. The man didn't move a muscle. He was overcome with fear, yet, he wanted to see this thing that had just penetrated his body. He knew it was a ghost, a spirit from the other side that had just pierced him, causing his skin to rise with hundreds of tiny goosebumps from the frigid feeling the entity left behind as it passed through his being.
Then, right before his very eyes, he watched a dark patternless shape, like some kind of greasy swirling fog, float through the room in front of him, and as it did, it began taking form. At first, it was small, dense, dark, drawing in and extracting the normal darkness that surrounded it, becoming blacker, bigger, and taking on a humanlike form. Now he could recognize that it was a spirit moving in front of him, a woman clad in a '60s-style blouse and mini-skirt. He could not distinguish the colors because he hadn't bothered to turn on the light when he entered the room. There was only enough illumination for him to see the faint form of a ghostly woman. As the apparition moved toward the far wall, a new wave of sheer terror washed over him when he suddenly realized he was looking at a severely mutilated woman. He could make out cuts on her face that extended from the corners of her mouth to her ears, giving her a grotesque Glasgow smile.
"I'm here," the mournful female voice trailed away. "Find me. Please!"
"Find yourself, bitch!" Boris said as he rushed over to the toolbox, jerked open the lid, grabbed a wrench, and got the hell out of the room.214Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKt6WNo5p31
Once outside of the kitchen, Boris pushed the door shut and headed for the bull room. The curious man, who liked to play with Ouija Boards, had finally gotten his wish! He saw a ghost, a savagely mutilated ghost, but he wasn't going to say anything to anyone about what he had just experienced. He knew damn well that if he said anything at all, he'd never live it down. The apparition could find someone else to help her locate "herself." He would never go anywhere in this place alone again! NEVER!
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