Outside Phantom Door
Insomnia wasn't always a bad thing. Despite the way it shut down all his more useful mental functions and made him into a zombie during the day, it gave him the opportunity to catalogue the books he had yet to put out on the shop floor and check them for damages. He could also browse eBay, Amazon, Craigslist, and other websites to look for books, and if not buy anything, then at least get a feeling for what was available. Or what people wanted. Not that that helped very often.
And now it gave him what catching up on sleep wouldn't have done: the opportunity to see the little notebook open next to him blank itself out and scrawl a few thin lines of text. He stared at it. It took him a while to actually get up and move.
Aiden was naturally wary as he stared at the gates that had previously been locked tight. Inside the hotel, shadows flickered and grew with every door opened. He had the key and the notebook jammed deep into one jacket pocket. He could hear footsteps, quiet voices, and see shadows that had to be people instead of candlelit furniture ... while not exactly paranoid by nature, Aiden had grown up in Boston. A decrepit place in a big city at midnight didn't exactly inspire confidence in anyone but the brainlessly brave.
Mindful of the possible dangers but unstoppably intrigued by the hotel's decor, he wandered further in, up stairways and around corners. The doors ... were strange. Everything around him seemed to change whenever he went by one, including the doors themselves. Once or twice he put his ear to one to see if he could hear better, but to no avail. It didn't sound like people were behind them. Eventually he stopped - one door, a massive, looming thing, ornately decorated like the front of an old, old theater, caught his eye and held him still. There was a gargoyle at the top. The handles were wrought iron, curved and magnificent. From behind the door came the strains of an orchestra, and above that, singing in a language he could barely place.
Aiden stared at the beautifully carved doors and felt the weight of the key in his pocket.