Jack, Wendy, and Danny Torrance are all trademarked by Stephen King.
THE EVERGREEN HOTEL
"Ah! Here we are!" said Jack Torrance. "The Evergreen hotel!" It doesn't look like evergreens, noted the son, Danny, eyeing the peeled exterior. The mother, Wendy, thought it was marvelous.
They didn't want to come, that was certain. They had to come. Jack lost most of their money at gambling and until they could pay for their house, they had to stay at the hotel.
As soon as they came in, they saw the owner, Mr. Ostermyer, at his desk. He had long, greasy hair, and a hooked nose. He looked up and said, "Welcome. Enjoy yourselves. You're the only family checked in, recently." He smiled, which gave Danny an uneasy lurch in the stomach. As the family walked up the stairs, Ostermyer said,
"Er...watch out for the second to bottom step. Fragile wood, I am afraid. If too much weight, such as a foot, falls on it, it will break. God knows how deep the hole will be." Jack nodded, and followed. Danny then felt a wave of nausea. A huge axe hung from the wall.
"Why is there an axe, sir?"
"Ah, you need axe to chop firewood, aye?"
After dinner, the family got ready for bed. Wendy was doing her makeup. She looked at the mirror. Instead of her usual face, billowing with blonde hair and rosy cheeks, an old hag looked back. I've got to be seeing things, she thought. She raised her hand. The hag raised her hand. She winked. The hag winked. She rubbed her nose. The hag didn't move. It closed its rotting eyes. Blood flowed in rivers from her eyes, nose, and mouth. It opened its bleeding to mouth to speak but Wendy ran out of the bathroom, and kept on saying nothing was there.
Jack, in his bathroom, was brushing his teeth, letting the brush stroke his teeth. He finished, and put his brush down. He looked up, and saw an image from a horror film. Blood coated the walls. Bloody handprints grasped the door, stretched: as if was the owner was dragged trying to leave. A message began to appear in the mirror
He didn't let it finish. He closed his eyes, and opened them. The room was clean, as it always was. Maybe if he searched the room, he would have noticed the blot of blood on the toothpaste. But now we must see the youngest in the family, Danny.
Danny washed up, and nothing happened. Nothing like the ghostly messages his parents got. He got his pajamas on and went to bed. He fell into a dark sleep.
In his dream he was running. Running. But from what? Was he being chased at all? He ran and opened a door. A teenage boy stood before. His head was split open, a dried flow of blood dribbled from his lower lip.
"Danny" it moaned, "Watch out."
"Watch out for what?"
"We tried to warn your parents, but they didn't want to see."
"See what?!" said the young boy.
"Something that has murdered all the guests," He gestured to a line of mangled apparitions. "The owner, Mr. Ostermyer. He's a maniac."
Danny woke up in cold sweat. Was it true? Was the axe that hung on the wall not meant for chopping wood, but chopping...? He couldn't, no wouldn't let that happen. He rushed to his parent's room. He shook them awake.
"Danny...what...?" said his tired mother.
"Mr. Ostermyer, he's...he's...a maniac."
His dad got up. "What?"
The doorknob slowly turned. A key was being put through it. A jingle. Apparently there was a wrong key. Another jingle. "Damn!" swore the person behind the door. Jack's face lost color. He mouthed "Hide," Another jingle. The person was getting frustrated. A yell of rage, as the keys hit the floor. Jack put his ear to the door just as the axe, Ostermyer's axe, burst threw the door. It grazed Jack's shoulder, leaving a small gash. The owner slashed the door again, and the door fell over. His greasy hair all over his sallow face, Ostermyer screeched with rage.
He brought down the axe and it knocked down the lamp. Debris flew everywhere, hitting the maniac's left eye. "AAAAAAAAGHH!" he roared, holding his wounded eye. The Torrances ran past the door down the hallway. Ostermyer screamed in fury. The air was filled with a dry whooshing sound as he aimlessly slashed at the wall. "Come on! Don't make it harder than it already is!" He staggered in the kitchen and saw Danny hiding. "Oh, yes," snarled Ostermyer. Danny rolled around and the axe embedded itself in the floor. "Gah!" He roared in frustration. He pulled at it. Danny ran out.
Ostermyer struggled hard, but the axe would not budge. His long greasy hair covered his face. He brushed it back and got up. He would not be able to finish the job the old-fashioned way. He would do it sans axe, with his bare hands. His dirty nails were long, dirty and sharp. They would have to work. His remaining eye twitched in its socket with anticipation.
The Torrances were united again, and walked down the stairs, carefully avoiding the fragile step. Jack pulled at the doorknob. It wouldn't budge. "Come on, come on! Open!" He tried hard.
Ostermyer with his long, dirty fingernails staggered to the stairs.
"OPEN!" Jack yelled. "PLEASE!" The door was jammed.
Almost there, Ostermyer could see their heads.
Jack pushed, and they got out safely. "Thank God!" said Wendy.
"NOOOOOO!" Roared Ostermyer as he ran down the stairs...and tripped. Bump. Bump. Bump. He saw the cracked stair in front of him. He reached out and stopped. He sighed. But, something was pushing him. He tumbled down the stairs and with a loud CRACK the stair broke. Ostermyer plummeted to the deep cellar. As he fell to his death, he realized who killed him. The ghosts had gotten their revenge.
A month later
I am happy to say Jack got a job and the family got their house back. They rarely stayed at a hotel again, even on vacation.
The hotel itself is still under investigation. The spirits have finally gone to peace. The cops have not yet found the body of Ostermyer, because the cellar stretches on for many distances. He could be anywhere. He had a deep fall, people say. A strange thing is the axe that Ostermyer used is still embedded in the floor. No one can get it out.