The Witches in Room 13
Handing over the hotel room key, the old man eyed the women carefully, cocking his head and hushing his voice in a conspirator’s whisper. “Y’all two be careful now. Gotcha ol’ Room 13… no extra charge… but it is haunted.”
The key’s recipient beamed, her teeth gleaming like shafts of moonlight spilling between clouds. “Zelda!” she all but shouted, “we have a haunted room!”
“Oh!” the other guest responded, “I wonder if it is anyone we know!”
The innkeeper eyed the two women warily as they hiked up their skirts and walked… ‘hm, are they gliding?’ he mused to himself… up the long, narrow staircase. ‘Must be newlyweds, rushin’ off,’ he mumbled aloud, smiling.
While waiting for the next customer, he took a white towel and began to fold it into a rough “ghost” shape. It lacked finesse and detail, but he adored surprising his guests and often placed them on the bed in empty rooms before check ins.
The witches, the inn’s newest lodgers, watched from the balcony. “We ought enchant one for him,” Zelda whispered to Penny. “At least one.”
“We will scare him to death! He is an old man!”
“No, no, we will be careful about it,” Zelda replied, opening a channel to attract passing spirits. “Just a small haunt, enough to scare up more business. Nothing more.”
Penny thought it over. “Well,” biting her lip in excitement, “you make a phantasmally fantastic point.” She joined in the spell’s crafting.