Brilliant stars filled the black veil that surrounded them that night, some lost autumn leaves rolled down the hill and though the night itself seemed harmless it could might as well have belonged to a freezing winter. No one looked out the window because everyone seemed to think that there would be nothing to see. Everyone would be wrong. Because at the Beaker Hotel someone was arriving. And this was very strange indeed because no one was ever seen walking through the doors of the Beaker Hotel, though every room every night always seemed to be full of lights and noises. The Beaker Hotel was to be found on the Solitarios Hill a little away from the rest of the little cottages that were in this little village.
The Beaker Hotel was a huge hotel and the only hotel in the village. People always saw it as a place where young people drank and danced the nights away. But no ever really knew what was going on at the Beaker Hotel. Not until that night where a very fine, young chap was to be the very first of his kind to explore the corridors of the Beaker Hotel. This young chap's name was Gilbert, and he was very unlike himself that night. He had been down at the local and only pub in the village with his mate Thomas who was very big and could drink like a lost horse in a desert. He was alone and as he - according to his own drunken mind - almost floated across the frozen grass on the hill he could feel his mind going all fuzzy as he approached the old hotel. He fell once to the cold ground before finding his way to the doorstep. He closed his numb fingers around the door handle and slowly leaned against the door, almost hoping it wouldn't open just to have something to lean against. The door opened too quickly and he fell to the floor, making dust fly into the air surrounding him and making him cough like an old sailor. Young Gilbert slowly came to his feet once again, starring sleepily around himself. What he saw astonished him. Yellow light filled the surprisingly magnificent entrance hall he was standing in: a man with very fine clothes and an excellent moustache was standing, talking to a man with a calm smile behind a counter; a woman with a huge fur coat and very small, white dog was talking rather enthusiastically to a little man in a marvellously decorated dinner jacket; a young woman with shoulder long, curled, blond hair was glancing round the room, taking little sips of her filled cocktail glass; and a delightfully looking waiter ran around to all the guests, offering little nibbles on a silver platter. Gilbert looked round in astonishment and then looked down at his feet, the floor didn't seem to have single speck of dust lying on it. This was a bit odd, Gilbert didn't remember seeing any light as he had entered. But he was quite drunk, though his head now seemed all clear and fresh. He walked closer to all the guests who were chatting and laughing and who apparently hadn't seen it odd that a strange and poorly looking man just fell through the door. Gilbert walked towards the counter as the man with the moustache moved along.
"A room, sir?" the man behind the counter asked, not even looking up from a pile of papers.
"Uhm ... yeah, why not, might as well get some rest here," Gilbert answered, leaning against the counter with his elbow. Gilbert heard the gentleman behind the counter let out a little laugh, still not taking his eyes of those damn papers, "What?"
"Oh nothing, sir. I guess you'll see," the man looked at Gilbert now for the first time; he had such dark eyes, "Just one night?" The man was still smiling, looking down at his hands fumbling with the papers.
"Yes, please," said Gilbert, feeling a bit embarrassed and confused. Gilbert had no idea of how to act among these people as they strolled around casually as though they knew every single person in the room like a brother or sister. Gilbert looked around the room for a very short second and caught a glimpse of the young lady with the cocktail glass before the gentleman behind the counter took out a shiny, golden key and held it out towards Gilbert.
"Oh, yes, thanks," Gilbert said and quickly took the key and headed towards two giants doors at the other end of the entrance hall. He tried to take another look at the young woman with the cocktail glass but she had gone. Gilbert gently pushed the doors in disappointment with his tired hands and his eyes turned slowly, still clinging on to the hope of seeing that young woman take yet another sip of her cocktail glass, but his eyes had something else to discover and they did so as they saw the magnificent hall Gilbert had just walked into. Loads and loads of people were chatting and singing and dancing and loads of other things that the other people in the village would see as odd and strange.
Gilbert walked quietly and unnoticed across the wooden and almost golden floor, and tapped his thigh with his hand to the rhythm of the music. Oh, what a wonderful music it was, it was the type of music that made your heart wave and your brain go quiet for just a second to absorb every single note of that absolute masterpiece made by simple strings and blank pieces of wood. Gilbert was now clicking his fingers, still tapping his thigh with his other hand. He closed his eyes to focus completely on the sounds even though he didn't even know the source. Before Gilbert knew it he spun around elegantly and was suddenly dancing, or he wasn't, his arms and legs and entire body was, but Gilbert's mind had been lost long ago. Different, strange and amazing people danced along Gilbert and laughed and yelled out noises and non-noises and cried of pure happiness and joy. Gilbert had never experienced anyone like the people whom where surrounding him and making him happier than ever. Everything was just different and strange and new and different and different and never too different. This was the night's little secret. Everyone seemed to stay away from the dark night and flinch by it's name, but Gilbert knew better and so did everyone else at the Beaker Hotel.
Gilbert felt no muscle go tired and not a single drop of sweat hit the crooked, golden floor. The music had cast its magical spell and no one disobeyed its blissful tunes. Gilbert could feel no heat from his blood rushing through his veins nor did he feel cold or just anything. He didn't really feel anything. But of course it didn't worry him because it just made him want dance the nights away and then the weeks and then the months and then the years and then his lifetime. Just dance to no ending. Just dance till the cheerful summers and the beautiful winters had gone away. Over and over again. Dance and dance.
The next morning, people had been whispering about weird noises coming from the Beaker Hotel. People who had been walking their little fluffy dogs in the morning had heard banging noises against wood, and of course they had to tell everyone in the village because whenever something strange would happen everyone would know in a second. And it was indeed strange because no one ever heard any noises from the Beaker Hotel in the daylight. It was indeed very strange. Finally someone decided to call the local police station. The police arrived at the Beaker Hotel after half an hour, because of course they just had to buy some apple pie to celebrate now that they had finally got a case to work on. They tried to open the door at first but the door wouldn't open, they considered calling the locksmith but he would probably have to celebrate with some apple pie as well for finally having some locks to open. So they went around the house and found a window where they could see something moving inside the hotel, so they smashed the window with a piece of wood that they had found on the grass lane and went inside to find out what was happening at the Beaker Hotel. The policemen now saw something that they hadn't expected to see. A man dancing wildly to no music at tall, just dancing and dancing, banging his feet against the dusty floor. The eyes of that man, you could see that every piece of sanity had disappeared and been replaced with something of power and fear and beauty.