CONTENT WARNING: Murder, Gore or mutilation, Death,
TRIGGER WARNING:
Transcript
Narrator
Lanterns Aura Presents: Awaiting Publication. Episode Two. The Bloody Handprint
Oliver
The Bloody Handprint. A short story by Arthur Burton. Read by Oliver Burton.
A knock on the door interrupts Oliver in the middle of saying his name.
Oliver
Yes?
Emma
Hey, you got a minute?
Oliver
I’m in the middle of recording. Can it wait?
Emma
It’s just, that cop is here. She wants to talk to us.
Oliver
Oh, I’ll be right there.
Officer Summers
No need, I’m right here.
Oliver
Okay, what can we do for you Officer Summers?
Emma
Did you figure out who killed dad?
Officer Summers takes a deep breath.
Officer Summers
Look, there’s no easy way to say this. There’s been a massive problem, and we basically have to start over.
Oliver
What?
Officer Summers
An animal of some sort got into the station, it tore through the office we were storing the evidence in until a proper forensics team could come in from the city. There’s not much left.
Emma
What kind of animal?
Officer Summers
We don’t know. My partner thinks it was a raccoon, but the claw marks are too big. Maybe a small bear?
Oliver
You think a bear managed to wander into the middle of the police station undetected, destroy the only evidence you have of my fathers killer, and sneak out so you wouldn’t be able to identify it?
Officer Summers
I don’t know. Whatever it was, it was big.
Oliver
What about the security camera?
Officer Summers
We tried checking those, but the files are corrupted.
Oliver
Of course they are.
Emma
Oliver, calm down.
Oliver
Calm down? OUR FATHER WAS MURDERED and the police lost the only evidence they had.
Officer Summers
We’re going to be continuing the investigation.
Oliver
With what? The bodies been cremated, there wasn’t any murder weapon.
Emma
Did anything survive the animal?
Officer Summers
No, it was, surprisingly thorough. Not just your fathers case was impacted though, everything was gone.
Emma
So it wasn’t, what’s the word.
Oliver
It wasn’t targeted.
Officer Summers
No, and they’re definitely claw marks, so unfortunately it… just. Well, it’s
Oliver
It looks like you all are incompetent enough to let a large animal through your police station, through multiple doors, and go on a rampage, then get out undetected.
Officer summers takes a deep breath.
Officer Summers
Yeah. Basically.
Oliver
I see.
Emma
Well, thanks for stopping by.
Officer Summers
Look, I promise, I’m not giving up, this is just a setback.
Oliver
That’s putting it mildly.
Emma
Oliver.
Officer Summers
It’s a very large set back. I’m not going to give up. I’ll figure out who killed your father, no matter what it takes.
Oliver
Thank you so much.
Emma
Thank you for stopping by, and at least, keeping us in the loop.
The door opens to the room again.
Emma
I’ll walk you out.
The door shuts again.
Oliver takes a deep breath and attempts to calm himself.
Oliver
Right, where was I? Shit I left this thing on?
Oliver takes a deep breath.
Oliver
Well, might as well keep going then.
Oliver clears his throat.
Oliver
The Bloody Handprint. A short story by Arthur Burton. Read by Oliver Burton.
You know the greatest joy of traveling through the middle of nowhere? You never know who you’ll encounter when you stop. It could be some old war veteran with stories you won’t find in any history book, it could be some farmer that makes the best homemade hot sauce on the planet, or it could be some psycho planning to kill you if you seem like an easy target. Or it could be something masquerading as a person. It was the middle of winter back in ‘86, I had been travelling through Georgia on my way south to Florida to watch the space shuttle launch. I had some time off so I decided to take the scenic route. I stopped at what few farms still had stalls selling leftover crops and managed to get a deal on some lovely peaches and a bottle of homemade hot sauce somewhere about an hour south of Atlanta. Then I just kept on heading in what direction I thought was south, driving for a few hours before I ran into the same stall I had gotten the peaches from earlier and I realized that I was thoroughly lost.
The farmer running it was an older fellow, maybe sixty or so, and he was more than willing to give me directions to the nearest town.
“Drive four mailboxes that way, take a right, drive until you see the red mailbox, take a left, and that’ll get you to town, but make sure you’re out before sunset.”
I found that last line peculiar and inquired as to why.
“Lots of people go missing recently ‘round these parts after nightfall. You best be indoors if you know what's good for you.”
Taking his warning to heart, and deciding I wanted to get back to the main roads as soon as possible I got in the car and drove down that rumbling dirt road again, losing sight of the stall as the dust filled the air behind me. The first three mailboxes were easy enough to find, I drove for a few minutes past the trees and the fields and saw them pass one by one, and the fields began to give way to trees, and the already minimal houses disappeared into the Georgian wilderness.
I was about to turn around, but I had no idea where anything was, and after that strange warning he gave me I was not eager to see the old man again, but as the sun set I felt my resolve begin to dwindle, and my dread began to build as my gas tank grew emptier and emptier. I almost let out a cry of relief as ahead of me I saw lights, and the trees gave way to a small building with a couple cars in front of it. The name was some other language I didn’t understand, I think it was Spanish, or maybe it was French. It read “Extremum Agmen” but all I cared about was the lit sign below it reading “vacancy”.
I had my pick of most of the spots in the rather small parking lot, so I parked near the lobby and stepped through the surprisingly humid air as I walked through a set of doors into a small entryway, face to face with a large locked wooden door. On it was a sign telling me to ring the bell to enter, looking to my right there was an old fashioned metal bell with a little line coming from the bottom. I pushed it and it swayed back and forth letting out a high pitched ring that echoed over and over in my tiny enclosure. After a second the ringing stopped, and I heard a click by the handle of the door. Turning it I slowly pushed the old oak door open, and entered the darkness of the lobby.
My eyes took a second to adjust, but I could hear the hum of the air conditioning right away, and a young man with an accent similar to one of my coworkers from Texas, but slightly different, more pronounced.
“Evening.”
Behind the counter was a guy in his late teens, maybe early twenties, wearing a white suit that almost seemed to reflect the fluorescent lights that lit the otherwise unoccupied lobby.
“Hello, sorry, I saw the sign outside. Do you have a map? And can I get a room?”
The man grinned, showing far too many teeth, and gave me a look I couldn’t quite identify.
“Why certainly my friend. Let’s get you checked in and I’ll see what I can do about that map.”
Relief flooded over me as the man turned away and grabbed a large book.
“How many beds will you be needing?”
“Just the one.”
“All right. That’ll be five dollars.”
My brain felt like it stopped working for a second when I heard the price.
“I’m sorry, can you please repeat that? I’m sure I misheard you.”
The man grinned again, staring me dead in the eyes.
“Certainly, that’ll be five dollars.”
“That’s ridiculously cheap. You didn’t even ask how many nights I’ll be staying.”
“That’s because no one ever stays in this area more than a night. Not much to do here, so everyone just stops here to sleep and keeps going in the morning.”
I thought that it was more because of this man's weird attitude, but I kept that to myself and just nodded.
I dug through my wallet and handed the man a five dollar bill. He took it without looking at it as he kept staring into my eyes. Smiling as he put the bill in his pocket, and produced a small brass key.
“You’ll be in room five. If you go down that hall to the right it’ll take you past rooms seven and eight, turn left and go past room six, room five will be on the left side. I’ll come round in a couple hours with dinner options, and breakfast and check out will be in the morning. If you need anything I stay in room one, it’s down the other hall behind me.
The whole place is a nice big square, so either way will lead you there.”
I took the key, and didn’t look back into the lobby as I hurried down the hallway, away from the still grinning man. I heard him call behind me.
“Enjoy your stay here at Extremum Agmen, Mr Inglund.”
I rounded the corner, found my room, and inserting the key into the lock, turned the key and handle, opened the door as a new wave of freezing air hit me. Stepping inside I closed the door behind me, and locked it. Taking a step into the room it dawned on me, I never got the map from the receptionist. And I never told him my name.
I turned the lights on and looked around my surroundings, a crimson carpet covered the room, with black sheets on the rather large bed. I never asked what size it would be, but it ended up being a king. The curtains and walls matched that same shade of red as the carpet. The curtains themselves were thick enough they allowed no light from outside, despite it being just before sunset. I walked over and opened them, looking out there was a courtyard in the middle of the building, a small grassy area with a small stone building in the middle. I assumed it was some sort of storage shed, but it looked rather large to be one, especially for a building that small. At this point I was thoroughly weirded out by the whole mess and was debating if I wanted to just say screw it, drive until I hopefully found another town, and sleep in my car if all else fails. But I dreaded the thought of seeing that man at the desk again, even though I knew I would be seeing him in the morning.
I quickly move a chair in front of the door, just in case, then set my suitcase on the bed. As an afterthought I checked the lock on the window only to see whoever stayed here before me had left it unlocked, I locked it. I almost closed the curtains then I had a second thought, looking around the room. I quickly turned on the lights, illuminating the room with the white light of lamp by the desk before closing the curtains, making it so any other guests couldn’t see inside my room from the courtyard. The sun was setting, and there didn’t look like there were any lights outside for me to see if anyone was watching me.
After taking a moment to collect myself I decided to go turn on the shower, then if the receptionist really did come around and heard it from outside I could just claim I was in the shower when he knocked, I quietly moved to the bathroom and flicked the lights on and immediately paused. The curtain and rug right outside the shower were the same ugly red the carpet of the room itself was covered in, but the walls and floor were as dark as night. Shaking my head at the color scheme I went and turned the shower on, as the water turned from a slow drip to a torrent I let myself breathe, sitting on the toilet and collecting myself I took in my surroundings as I decided if I wanted to actually shower or not, the floor was a black tile that was shining with the reflection of the light. Overall the room wasn’t that bad, the hotel seemed nice, and the courtyard was nice to look at, but that receptionist had me so on edge I couldn’t relax. If it wasn’t for that last thing he’d said I would think it was just the stress of the trip, but I knew that I hadn’t told him my name, but he knew it anyways. I had never been to Georgia before, and I was sure I had never met the man. But as I sat there thinking if I had ever met him before I had a hard time recalling how he had looked. I remembered that he was young, and I remembered that damn white suit, but I couldn’t recall any details outside that smile. Thinking about it made me shudder and I decided a shower was very much in order. I bent down to grab a towel from under the sink when I saw a glint of red catch my eye. Something red shining on the ground between the toilet and the sink. Getting on my hands and knees I felt my blood run cold as I saw it in more detail.
A handprint. It was dark red, almost black, but it was unmistakably a smeared handprint where someone had put their hand against the lower part of the wall, and they must have been badly injured. I quickly backed away, my back hitting the wall opposite of the mark, and I just sat there. Possibilities ran through my head. The person could have slipped and hit their head, then put their hand on their head before passing out. That didn’t make me feel any better. The pieces began to fit together in my head.
The strange color scheme of the room was the perfect color for blood to blend in in most spots, the man at the desks unnerving expression, the warning from the farmer about missing people. I had tried to go on vacation, and accidentally wandered into a horror movie in the making.
I got up with a start and looked for a phone, even if the police didn’t believe me as long as they showed up I could leave while they were here. I made it into the main room when I heard a knock at the door. I froze as a voice called through the door.
“Mr. Inglund? I have a tray with dinner for you. Can I bring it in for you?”
The smooth voice put my mind at ease and I almost answered before remembering the handprint. I just stood there, frozen.
“Mr Inglund?”
I waited a few more seconds.
“I’ll come back later. Sorry to bother you.”
I let out a sigh of relief and started looking for the phone again. I checked outside to see how much time had passed and realized I must have spent more time in the restroom than I had thought, the sun had gone fully down. I searched the desk, the bedside table, under the bed, but there was no phone. Whatever may happen this night, I was on my own. I tried to think about it logically, realistically if I left the room I would encounter the man from before unless I hurried. If he was really going room to room then he might be with another guest, but I also had no way of knowing how many other guests there were, and I didn’t know where to get help if I did make it out. For all I knew I was the only guest still alive. But it was a risk I had to take.
I left my suitcase, and slowly, quietly moved the chair away from the door. I took a deep breath, and opened the door just a crack and looked left, then right. No sign of the man in the white suit. I decided to sneak the long way around in the hopes he was going to the rooms in numerical order, then I should be home free as I pass the early numbers. I would leave the key on the desk on the way out in case it was a misunderstanding, and sleep in my car if need be, just not here.
I snuck as quietly as I could down the hall, around the first corner to the hall with rooms three and four, the hallway looked the same as the one I had stayed on and I almost cried with relief when I didn’t see the man. I very carefully walked down the hall,when I heard voices from room four. It was the man and what sounded like a young woman. I saw the door open ajar, and the back of the man. I held my breath as I went quietly past the door to room four. Then I continued past three, quickening my pace once I was satisfied I was far enough from the room. I was maybe three or four feet past the door when I heard this inhuman wail come from room four, almost like what I imagined a banshee would sound like. Then the screaming started. A high pitched scream of terror that terrified me almost as much as whoever made it. I turned toward the sound when it was suddenly cut off. Trembling I debated between going to help the poor woman, or continuing on my way while the man was distracted. I waited for a second to listen for any sound that might indicate she was still alive, or that the man might be about to leave when I heard a low moan, the woman was still alive, but obviously hurt. I turned back towards room four, determined to not let some innocent woman die like however many others this thing may have killed before. Blood was slowly pooling into the hallway. Too much blood. I wasn’t sure if the woman would make it even if I did manage to fend off her attacker. I took a step towards the room when I heard a low slurping sound, followed by a gurgling sound almost like laughter as the door creaked open. A bloody hand hit the ground outside the door, and then a second, then a blonde head that oozed blood from the temple. The woman was alive, and crawling out of the room. She looked like she was about my age, maybe a little older, blood streaking down her face, and her side was torn open spilling blood and something much more solid trailing out of her as she pulled herself into the hallway. I took a step away from the sight before me, ready to scream as she looked towards me and let out a silent plea for help.
I took another step back as the man followed her into the hall. Stepping between me and her. His white suit was now covered in red, his hands dripped as he looked at her, than me. He grinned that damn smile again, this time showing pointed teeth soaked in blood as he licked his lips before he spoke.
“Don’t worry sir, I’ll have this cleaned up in a moment. Then I’ll be right with you with tonight's desserts.” He stepped on the other side of her, and crouched, looking at me as he took the dying woman in his arms. The woman reached for me desperately one last time as the man lifted her. His pupils widened to encompass his whole eye, turning it black as he opened his jaw, and sunk his teeth into the womans neck as he began to slurp again. I watched the womans hand go limp as I screamed at the scene before me.
I will admit I ran. I didn’t know how far I would get, especially because the man clearly wasn’t human. Nothing human could do what that man did. I made it to the lobby before I heard him laughing again. I didn’t dare turn around as I kept running. I barreled into the door, which thankfully was unlocked from this side, quickly going through it I almost froze as I finally looked behind me. The man was chasing me, but not by running. He was crawling across the ceiling on all fours, like a spider stalking its prey. His mouth dripped blood to the floor below as he laughed. I slammed the door shut, and pushed past the second set of doors and sprinted to my car. I let out a cry of relief as it started. I didn’t have much fuel but I didn’t care. I just needed to get away.
The rest after that was a blur, I spent days in the wilderness after my car had died. I remember being found on the side of the road by a man, I think his name was Dorian? Regardless, he brought me to the hospital. The police were brought in given my story about a woman being murdered, but it was decided I was obviously delirious from the dehydration. Especially since after some investigation it was determined that no hotel named “Extremum Agmen” had ever existed. And that was one of the less, concerning, parts of the story.
Maybe they were right. Maybe I imagined it. I’m still not completely convinced. It’s been years since the incident, but I still find myself avoiding hotels whenever possible. Especially ones that claim to have room service of any sort.
Oliver pauses after the story ends before speaking normally.
Oliver
My father really had no sense of subtlety. Anyone who might have read this that had even a passing understanding of Latin would know the name “Extremum Agmen” roughly translates to “end of the line”, which seems a little on the nose for a hotel in the middle of nowhere run by a blood sucking vampire, or at least a vampire like creature.
Oliver pauses.
Oliver
I’m sorry I’m just a little distracted by the news from Summers, it’s just. It’s been weeks and we’re back to square one, we already replaced the carpet, there’s no weapon, not a single GOD DAMN CLUE
Oliver hits his hand on the desk and something rattles.
Oliver breathes for a few seconds.
Oliver
What the hell?
He slowly pulls open a hidden drawer.
Oliver
Oh. Oh my god. EMMA! EMMA CALL OFFICER SUMMERS I FOUND SOMETHING!
The recording ends with a click.
Credits
The Bloody Handprint. A Short Story by Arthur Burton, read by Oliver Burton.What would you do if you were stuck in a hotel with something pretending to be human?
Oliver: Carter Lyon https://www.instagram.com/carter_folkes/
Emma Burton: Hannah H. Cacklequeen https://www.instagram.com/bigsisofanime/?hl=en
Officer Summers: Karma Night https://www.instagram.com/ultearlight/
Narrator: Sean McGarry https://www.instagram.com/dragonnerd42/
Written, Directed, and Edited by Sean McGarry
Produced by Carter Lyon, Karma Night, Matthew Laycock, and Sean McGarry
Theme Song: Books and Other Mysteries by James Donovan
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Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lanternsaura/Episode Transcript: Lanternsaura.comEpisode 3 will debut on December 15 2026 at 11:00 ESTAwaiting Publication is a podcast produced by Lanterns Aura.Thanks for listening!
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