The Haunted Traveler Vol. 2 Issue 1

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er-beaten. A few Romanian flags hung over open doorways,
the red, yellow, and blue bars just as faded as the people who
flew them. At least one of them lacked the coat of arms of the
Romanian People’s Republic. A sign of disloyalty.
The car came to a stop in front of the town inn, a
quaint two floor building with a pitched roof, its crisp white
face crisscrossed with wooden beams, reminding him of
buildings he’d seen on a trip to East Germany. A wooden
sign hung above the door: INN.
“Two days,” Alexdanru said as he got out.
The driver nodded. “Two days.”
He would return in two days. If, by then, he’d found
nothing, the government would send another man.
Alexandru was afraid that if he didn’t find anything
he’d be demoted.
Outside, the day was damp and chilly. Alexandru
took his bags from the back, and the car pulled quickly away.
He was alone.
Sighing, Alexandru went into the inn. Its lobby was
dim and warm. An archway to the left led into a type of sitting
room. A fire burned in the stone hearth. Chairs sat empty
around it.
Ahead, a desk flanked the foot of the stairs, which
turned before disappearing. Alexandru sat his bags down,
rang the bell on the tabletop, and waited several minutes
before a short, plump man in a white shirt came in through a
doorway leading who knew where.
“Good afternoon,” he said with a smile. His face
was red and warm. Alexandru thought he resembled Nikita
Khrushchev, late leader of the Soviet Union, except Khrushchev
had never been particularly plump.
“Good afternoon,” Alexandru said with a nod, “I’d
like a room, please.”
The man smiled. “Of course. For the night?”
“Two nights, actually.”