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The ghosts were not happy with the decision to correct the situation at the club. Their first warning has been written about exactly as it happened.193Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRvfTZHdRwf
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It was Saturday night, July 20. It was nearly midnight and the bar was jam-packed. Buck stood center stage belting out a love song. Carlos sat in the middle of the bar, on the ballroom side, thinking about the brief conversation that he and Buck had only minutes ago.
"I've made the arrangements with Mikal," Buck informed, stressing to Carlos the importance of meeting Pastor Stone and Mikal in the ballroom that Thursday evening.
Carlos knew something was dreadfully wrong. Even though he didn't remember anything that had happened when the spirits had control of him, he still felt sure that some diabolical thing was taking authority over him, using his body at will, and the thought was terrifying.
Thinking of meeting Mikal Watts, and some Holy Roller preacher bothered him, but down deep, he welcomed it. He hoped maybe, just maybe, the minister could help him figure out what had come over him. Besides, he was too scared to help himself.
As the guests enjoyed their evening in the ballroom, laughter, and chatter filling the air, a sudden hush fell as an unearthly presence made its presence known. A strange fungus, black as night, began to descend from the ceiling, like a dark cloud descending upon them. Gasps and cries of horror echoed through the room as it landed on unsuspecting guests, burning into their clothes and skin with an eerie sizzle. "What the fuck is that?!" one patron screamed, recoiling in terror as the foul substance touched him. Carlos, frozen in shock at the sight, was the first to witness the horrifying return of the fungus, his heart pounding in his chest as he realized the danger they were all in.
"Holy shit! Did y'all see that?!" Buck exclaimed, his voice filled with shock and disbelief as he narrowly dodged a blob of the notorious fungus that ate a hole in the stage floor inches away from him. "Everyone, stay calm and head towards the exits!" he ordered, his voice amplified by the microphone as he took charge of the situation. "We need to evacuate the ballroom immediately! Move quickly and carefully, don't panic!"
As Carlos dashed to the old kitchen, he was greeted by a horrifying sight: a massive mountain of black goo bubbling up from the floor, seemingly devouring everything it touched. The western wall of the room was melting away under its corrosive assault. Frantically searching for a solution, Carlos spotted a nearby fire extinguisher. With desperation, he grabbed it and aimed its stream of foam directly at the advancing fungus, hoping to halt its destructive rampage. "Grab fire extinguishers, everyone! We need to contain this thing!" Carlos shouted to the employees, his voice urgent and commanding. "Spray it down with everything we've got!" Despite their initial shock, the employees quickly followed Carlos's lead, seizing nearby fire extinguishers and joining in the effort to combat the relentless advance of the fungus.
As Carlos pushed open the emergency exit door and glanced up at one of the large exterior windows of the ballroom, he was greeted by a surreal sight. The viscous goo was oozing down the side of the building, billowing smoke as his fire extinguisher sprayed over it. With a sense of urgency, he emptied the extinguisher, watching as the foam quickly smothered the flow, preventing it from reaching the pavement below. Despite his initial relief, his sense of calm was short-lived as he turned around to confront an even more bizarre situation.
Outside, the sounds of gunfire pierced the night air, followed by screams of terror from fleeing guests. Among them, a woman in a checkered shirt appeared to have been hit in the shoulder, blood oozing from the wound. Carlos scanned the area for any sign of the sniper and spotted a black, shadowy figure perched on the northernmost tier of the resort—the portion that Buck's contractors had not yet renovated. The figure, clearly armed with a rifle, fired shots into the night, the muzzle flashes stark against the darkness.
As chaos unfolded outside the resort, two heroic entities arrived on the scene just in time. First, the Houston Police Department SWAT team stormed onto the premises, their presence marked by the thunderous arrival of armored vehicles and heavily armed officers. Among them, one officer, towering over the chaos, barked orders to Carlos, urging him to seek refuge inside the building while assuring him that they would handle the sniper threat. "Get inside, mister! We'll take care of the shooter," he commanded, his voice authoritative amidst the commotion. Meanwhile, a truck adorned with the logo of a local fungus-control company, known as "Houston Fungus Fighters," screeched to a halt nearby. Men clad in protective gear and carrying tanks of potent chemicals strapped to their backs charged into the building, ready to combat the menacing fungal threat. Above the fray, the distant whir of a police chopper echoed through the night, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos.
As the night wore on, several tense hours passed outside the resort. The guests, still waiting anxiously, were relieved to find out that the woman who appeared to have been shot had only suffered a flesh wound. The sporadic gunfire had ceased, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Carlos couldn't help but wonder if the police had managed to apprehend the shooter. Amidst the uncertainty, Buck stepped forward to address the crowd, his voice projecting calm and reassurance. "Folks, everything's going to be okay," he declared, his words like a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. With a reassuring tone, he explained that the fungal control company he had hired had a formula capable of neutralizing the strange black goo, which should dissipate within the next half-hour. Additionally, Buck expressed confidence that the police had brought the sniper situation under control, providing a glimmer of relief to the worried guests.
The crisis concludes with the lead SWAT officer, Sergeant Ramirez, speaking to Buck. "Mr. Cassidy, we couldn't find any evidence that someone had been up on the roof of the building," he informed Buck, his tone conveying a sense of perplexity. "No shell casings, nothing." Turning to Carlos, the officer inquired, "What about you, mi amigo? You must have gotten a look at the guy."
Carlos shook his head. "Well, I didn't," he replied, his voice tinged with frustration.
Sergeant Ramirez sighed defeatedly. "Looks like we might have to treat this as a false alarm," he remarked, his tone tinged with frustration. "Even though witnesses heard gunshots and some suffered what seem to be flesh wounds, we couldn't find any bullets." He turned to Buck and added, "It's safe to enter the building now. Wishing everyone happy dancing."
Buck couldn't believe the crowd had waited outside until the police allowed them back in. The guests quickly swarmed back inside the resort as Buck and the band returned to the stage. Despite the holes eaten into the floors and walls by the black fungus, it was business as usual.
"You are the most loyal fans a man could ever ask for!" Buck said sincerely to the crowd. "Let's get back to the music."
Grinning, Buck and the ban began playing "They Call Me the Lawman," and everyone, but Carlos, got a big kick out of his choice of songs. Everything returned to normal. The people lined the bar on all sides ordering drinks. The dance floor was full, and everyone went back to having a good time. Carlos walked to the kitchen and opened the door, staring into the darkened room, certain that only one ghost could have been responsible for this: Vince. The odor of the black fungus lingering in the air was both horrible and unearthly. It wafted through the room with a putrid, rotting stench that seemed to seep into every corner, assaulting his senses with its foulness. It was a sickly sweet smell mixed with undertones of decay, making it both repulsive and unsettling to anyone who encountered it. "Mr. Cassidy, we've been analyzing the fungus, and it's like nothing we've ever seen before," Carlos had heard the man explaining to Buck. "We can't trace where it came from. But the good news is our chemical formula, Chlorofungicide VX-9, is powerful enough to overcome it. The bad news is there's no evidence anyone had been in the resort to plant it. And what's even worse is what we did learn about it: it's alive, intelligent, and it has one purpose: destruction and death."
"Well, I'll be hogtied and branded! That there sounds like some kind of weapon, partner!" Buck remarked, astonishment evident in his voice.193Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7FtdilEJYd
"That's what we believe it is," the technician replied gravely. "The nuclei within the mold seem to be taking orders, so to speak. I'd advise you to steer clear of whoever claims responsibility. He's obviously off his rocker."
"They're onto us," Carlos whispered under his breath, a shiver running down his spine. "The mold attack and the sniper... straight-up warnings from the demons." This was a bold attempt to destroy the resort before Pastor Stone arrived here next Thursday, of that he was sure. He couldn't sleep in the building until he confronted the ghosts face-to-face. He decided right then and there to sleep in his car until Thursday night. He wasn't going to take any chances on being killed right there in the building.
The rest of the night went by without any further incidents. At closing time, Buck sang "Lights Out, Y'all," and the guests filed out of the ballroom, eager to return to their suites. Once the dancers had gone, he thanked Carlos and the other employees for acting so fast and putting out the fire. He asked Carlos to keep a close eye on the nightclub tonight and to call him at home if anything else happened. Carlos nodded as Buck, Wilma, and the other employees filed out, leaving only the night shift to tend to the guests.
Once everyone was gone, Carlos walked into the old kitchen and stood all alone in the pitch-black of the room.
"Please don't wreck this pad or mess with me," he pleaded softly. "Vince, if you busted out that mold 'cause of that preacher showing up, chill. I got your back. Sunflower...Adelaide, if you're tuning in, don't sweat it! Everything's gonna be cool."193Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9iN6lsFVyt
"You dig, everything's gonna be groovy. But if that preacher tries any funny business, The Man's gonna lay down the law, his way." The voice seemed to materialize out of thin air, echoing with an eerie resonance that sent shivers down Carlos's spine. There was no mistaking it—it was Vince, the last spirit he wanted to hear from. It was as if the very air around him had taken on a chilling presence, vibrating with the ominous tone of Vince's words.
Carlos, his heart racing with fear, turned on his heels and strode out of the room, making a beeline for his car. He planned to spend the night in the vehicle, watching over the resort from a safe distance. As he settled into the driver's seat, he muttered to himself, "Man, what've you gotten yourself into, Buck?"193Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyQB6DyT04J
