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Victoria Stolten had been hired by Buck to make some signs and paint some pictures to hang in the resort. A renowned artist specializing in Western and Southern scenes, she honed her craft at the prestigious Houston Free School of Fine Arts, where she earned a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree with a focus on landscape painting. With over two decades of experience, her evocative artworks captured the essence of the American frontier and the charm of Southern life, earning her recognition in galleries across the country. Stolten's masterful use of color and light can transport viewers to another era, where rugged cowboys, sweeping prairies, and quaint Southern towns come to life on canvas.
A five-foot-four, brown-eyed woman with short brown hair, she lived with her mother and brother in Houston in an apartment complex approximately 20 miles from the nightspot. She had never been afraid of ghosts or unseen forces of any kind, but, after working inside the nightclub alone one afternoon, she changed her mind. This is what she said happened.207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡprV844Gjk6
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It was late Thursday afternoon. Blue arms of rain reached down toward the earth as a turbulent thunderstorm marched through the sky from the Gulf, heading toward the resort. The fierce, steady wind shrilled through the city, slashing and shoving against whatever lay in its path. Victoria sat on the stage looking through her gray toolbox that was filled with various paints and brushes. While selecting the brushes she needed, the jukebox crackled to life, emitting a cacophony of discordant notes that distorted and warped the melodic strains of Dolly Parton's voice. What was different this time was that Dolly's voice was now badly warped beyond recognition, morphing into a haunting chorus of ghostly wails and dissonant tones that sent shivers down Victoria's spine.
"Good God!" she shrieked. The startled woman jumped down from the stage and walked over to the jukebox. She stared down at the machine and quietly wondered how the stupid thing could have come on by itself. She reached around the back of the old Wurlitzer and unplugged it, the music instantly stopped and everything in the room became quiet again.
"I've heard some bad cover bands in my time, but that was downright sacrilegious," Victoria scoffed, her tone dripping with contempt. "Dolly Parton's voice should never be subjected to such an abomination."
Victoria shook her head and walked back to the stage to get her paints. As she reached the middle of the platform, she stopped cold and quickly wheeled around looking in all directions. She couldn't believe it! Her box of paints and brushes had disappeared, but no one in the room could have taken them. Carlos had let her into the ballroom earlier, locking her inside, then left to go visit his dad. As far as Victoria knew, there was no one else in there with her.
The woman searched through the ballroom with her eyes and slowly moved through the row of tables toward the bar when she saw her toolbox. It was sitting in the middle of the bar with the lid closed.
"Okay," she called out, trying to force a laugh at the same time. "I don't know who's playing these stupid games, but it's not funny."
No response.
She hoped it was Carlos trying to pull some dumb prank on her, but she knew he'd left the building, and, to her knowledge, he hadn't come back.
Victoria grabbed her toolbox and walked to the big mirror on the wall in the rear of the ballroom. She opened the box and pulled out a brush and a small bottle of red paint. She was going to draw some figures on the mirror.
She unscrewed the lid, setting it down on top of a stack of empty beer cases next to her. She dipped her brush into the bottle and then gently dabbed the paint onto the lower right-hand corner of the glass, but, when she did, the paint stuck to the brush. Not one drop adhered to the glass.
"That's crazy," she whispered as she placed the palm of her hand on the mirror to see if it might be sticky from cigarette smoke.
"Owww!" she screamed as she quickly withdrew her hand from the glass, the searing pain shot through her flesh. "That hurt!"
The glass was hot, like a steam iron. It burnt her palm, and, as she stood there inspecting her injury, a sudden cold chill pierced her body as if something had just passed through her, something evil, frightening. She knew she was being watched, but not by human eyes.
"I've got to get out of here!" Victoria's brain shrieked. "Now!"
She grabbed the lid from the bottle, screwed it on, and dropped it into the toolbox. She flung the brush into the container with the paint still dripping from it, and closed the lid as fast as she could. Victoria grabbed the box and scurried for the front door, but just as she walked down the mirrored hallway, she saw Carlos unlocking the front door and stepping inside the building. His black jeans and psychedelic T-shirt were completely soaked from the pouring rain. Carlos saw the look on her face and knew by her expression she was terrified beyond belief.
"What's the beef?" He asked as Victoria quickly moved past him and pushed through the door stepping outside.
Carlos wheeled around and followed her out to the parking log, "Victoria!" he called out as she continued walking away, pushing through the vicious wind and rain. She turned around just as Carlos reached her. "What's eating you?"
"Carlos," her voice quivering, "there's some heavy vibes in this joint. I swear, it's like the whole place is haunted or something."
"Hey, listen," he said softly, "the ballroom's like, huge and eerie when you're flying solo in there. I feel like I'm seeing and hearing stuff all the time, but it's probably just my mind playing tricks. C'mon, let's head back in."
"I ain't going back in there, Carlos. Cassidy can find someone else for all I care," Victoria snapped at him as she shook her head, the raindrops dripping down her face. She held up her hand, displaying the burn mark, "Look at this! And something cold went right through me. It was a ghost, I swear. I'm heading home, feeling awful."
Carlos knew she meant what she'd just said. Victoria was visibly shaken and nothing he could say or do right now would change her mind.
"All right," he said with a gentle smile. "Bummer you're splitting. I'll dig you, though. Catch you later."207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgOEdIaNU6z
Victoria turned and headed for her car. Carlos walked back inside the building, his final destination being the dreaded Plastic Room. He needed to check on the pit.
He strode through the lonely corridor and then entered the Plastic Room, but, as he did and before he could even try to defend himself, the unseen entity slammed into him, quickly possessing his mind and body. The evil swept over him like a tidal wave, consuming him. He cried out in anguish, doubling over and clapping both hands to his waist as if he were in excruciating pain. He twisted and turned violently, then suddenly fell to the floor where he lost all consciousness. 207Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMIzLGWjuIO
