A Word Of Warning, Everyone Who Swims In The Pool Of This Hampton Inn Drowns

Welcome to the Hampton Inn! I’m Je-Anne. Are you checking in? Wonderful! Last name? Goldstein. Here’s your room key, Ms. Goldstein. Our “On The House” Hot Breakfast is served every morning from 6 to 10 am. Our business center is open 24/7 as is our laundry room and pool. A word of warning about The Pool. Everyone who swims in it drowns. Check out is 11 am.

 

Yes indeed, everyone single person who swims in The Pool drowns. There have been hundreds of deaths. We had to install an incinerator in the basement to keep up with all the bodies. The wifi code is HamptonSmiles45.

 

Oh sure, we’ve had The Pool looked at by plenty of experts. Every Pool & Spa man in the greater Indianapolis area has tried to solve this diluvial enigma. But before they can give us any solution they, well, drown. Check out our onsite fitness center to turn this business trip into a business fit!

 

The funny thing is Ms. Goldstein, not everyone who swims in The Pool drowns immediately. Some guests can swim safely two or three times during their stay before they are devoured by the wet. If you need anything, I’m here every morning making fresh coffee for our hospitality center and skimming the pool with my corpse net. Because it’s not just hospitality, its Hamptonality.

 

There was one man who swam in The Pool seven times and then checked out safely. Every time he dove in, I expected to hear the thrashing gurgle then sinister silence that meant The Pool had claimed another soul, but every day he’d emerge, drenched and smiling. I thought The Pool was losing its touch. But on his way home, he drove his Camry into a lake and … drowned. The Pool knew what it was doing. Make sure to check in with our concierge Martha for tips on that hot Indianapolis nightlife.

 

I’ve only been here six months, but our maintenance man Sully says The Pool was here before the hotel was built. And it will outlast us all. Sometimes I sit on the diving board, dangling my feet just above the tranquil water. So close to oblivion. What if I stuck a toe in? An arm? What if I plunged into cerulean depths? What if I drowned? What if I didn’t? Will you be needing a wake-up call?

 

A few weeks ago, the hotel was closed for repairs. I was here late at night answering the phones when I heard a terrible moaning coming from The Pool. At first, I thought it was just another victim, but the moan grew louder, deeper, fouler. It was a sound not meant to be heard, but to be felt.  A dripping wind sucked me from the front desk down the hall. The next thing I knew, my face was pressed to the door leading to The Pool. Through the plexiglass window, I saw Sully standing there, arm outstretched over the deep end. I watched him raise a rusty blade to his forearm and slice. The moaning ceased as blood met water. Ms. Goldstein, I think he was feeding it. We have half-price appetizers from four to seven pm at our hotel restaurant The Slippery Noodle.

 

I warn every single person that checks in, but it doesn’t make a difference. The families are the worst. Most people think I’m crazy. Even if they do believe me, they’re still drawn in like moths to a heavily chlorinated flame. The Pool lures them in deeper and deeper until… Thanks for checking in with me today Ms. Goldstein!

 

I hope you check out.