Hotel Room 606 - 1. Hotel Room 606

Part 1 - Learning The Ropes

The Collins family checked in on July second the same year as the murder-suicide. Once again, I didn't think anything of it, they seemed nice. I guess, on the whole, they were. They had a young son and an older daughter. The boy, Brodie, was getting on my nerves. First, he would jump up and down on one of the beds. Then, I guess he wanted to play Kung Fu, or something. He'd jump up and body slam the wall, landing back on the bed. I swear, if I could have moved the bed so he'd land on the floor, I would have done it. When he started drop kicking the wall, I was fuming. Apparently, my anger triggered my memory of Barry. I heard, "No, daddy, no." Little Brodie looked at the window. Wow, did he hear it too? I guess so, he ran screaming into the sitting area.

"Mommyyyyyy!!"

"What's the matter, Brodie?"

"I heard someone in my room. They screamed, 'No, daddy, no'."

"Was it coming from the room next door? I should call the desk."

"No, it came from the window."

"Well, there isn't anyone outside your window up on the sixth floor."

"I didn't see anyone, just heard the screaming."

"Alright. Everything seems OK now. Just let me know if you hear it again."

Piss me off again kid and I'll find a way to do more than an audible memory. I decided right then and there, well, I'm always there, or rather, here. I decided I would try to bring those memories to life at will.

Things were quiet again after that, until Halloween. People had played tricks on others before in my rooms. I'd been practicing resurrecting the memories from the Monroe family and could visualize Mr. Monroe tossing Barry out of the window without any anger at all. That and the rest of his atrocities. This time the young boys weren't quite so young, Thomas, probably around fifteen or sixteen, and Shawn, maybe twelve. As soon as they turned out the lights to go to sleep, I figuratively hit 'play.' It was like a record skipping, Ted picked up Barry, dropped the knife when he struggled, walked to the window and launched, sound and all. Then it would repeat, Ted picked up Barry, et cetera.

"What the fuck?"

"Thomas, what's going on?"

"I don't know, Shawn. It seems like we're seeing part of a movie."

"I don't like it. Make it stop."

"How?"

"I don't know. Maybe, turn on the light."

At first, I thought, 'Nice try Shawn.' But then I realized this could be even more fun. The light went on, I stopped the recording.

"Wow. That worked."

"Yeah, but I'm not sleeping with the light on all night like a baby."

"I'm not a baby, Thomas. And I never said anything about keeping it on. Maybe turning it on once was good enough."

"OK, I'll try turning it back off."

No, guys, you're not getting away with this THAT easy. I hit play again.

"Aaahhhh. Turn it on! Turn it on!"

He did. I hit stop again.

"I bet mom and dad are still up. I'm getting them."

Oh, this ought to be fun.

"Mom, dad, there's something weird happening in our room."

"What is it, Shawn?"

"Every time we turn out the lights, it's like we get a scene from a movie. A man throws a boy out the window, screaming."

"It's just a dream, boy. Grow up a little."

"It's not a dream, dad, Thomas saw it too. Thomas!"

Thomas left the bedroom, "Yeah, the squirt is right. It plays when the light is off, stops when it is on."

"Go check it out, James."

"Thanks for the hint, Mavis. I was planning to."

James followed the boys into the second bedroom, "OK, hit the lights."

The room went dark. The room stayed dark and quiet.

"What the heck?"

"OK, you've had your Halloween trick. Go to bed."

The lights came back on.

"But..."

Mr. Johnston looked at Thomas like he would have hit him if he continued talking. James hit the light switch on his way out. As soon as the door closed, you guessed it, I hit play and turned up the volume. A moment later the door opened again. It wasn't more than three inches open before I hit stop.

"Shawn, this is getting a little annoying. Stop this bullshit right now."

"It wasn't me."

"Thomas?"

"No, not me either. Really."

"I'm calling the front desk."

I only heard Mr. Johnston's side, but the lobby repeated everything for me from the other side of the conversation.

"Reception, how can I help you?"

"Someone seems to be playing a Halloween trick on my sons, somehow projecting a scene from a movie into their bedroom, or so they claim."

"What room, sir?"

"606."

"Please hold."

"Paul, what do I do? This guy says someone's playing a movie in their room, or something."

"Is it a porno? I'll go and watch too. What room, Arch?"

"Don't be an asshole. Help me out here."

"OK, what room?"

"606."

"606?"

"Did I fucking stutter?"

"Pick up the extension, I want to ask him something, you can listen."

Paul referred to the guest log, "Mr. Johnston, this is Paul, an assistant manager, can I ask what exactly the scene is?"

"Why does that matter? It's scaring my kids."

"Humor me, please?"

"Shawn said a man throws a boy out the window, screaming."

"You're kidding?"

"I'm in no mood to kid right now, young man."

"OK, I'm sorry. About eight months ago, something like that did happen in that room."

"This joke has gone far enough. I want a straight answer, or I'm complaining to your boss in the morning."

"I'm serious, Mr. Johnston. About eight months ago there was a murder-suicide in room 606. One of the boys was thrown out the window in the smaller bedroom. Is that what's happening?"

"You're shitting me!"

"No, sir."

"I want another room."

Shit, there goes my fun.

"I can move you next door into 604 tomorrow, but unfortunately, nothing else is available for tonight."

"What do I do about my sons?"

"Make up the pull-out in the living room for them, I suppose."

"Fine, but your manager is still going to hear about this."

"That's your prerogative. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No. I guess not."

"Have a good night, Mr. Johnston."

"Yeah, right."

That was fun! But my fun wasn't over for the night.

When James and Mavis retired for the evening, I got lucky, and Mavis laid down on the same side of the bed as Mrs. Monroe did. James was finishing putting on his pajamas when I started the projector. Ted Monroe had just started to lean over his wife.

"Mavis, look out!"

"What?"

Ted sliced his wife's neck. Blood soared into the air. Mavis screamed. James dove at Ted, who somehow disappeared. So did the blood.

"What the fuck?"

"Did I see blood, James?"

"Yeah, I think so."

None of the Johnstons got much sleep that night. The sofa bed was crowded.

Things were quiet once again for two months. On New Year's Eve I got fodder for a second flavor of tricks. Apparently, Oliver MacPherson wasn't having a Happy New Year's Eve. He came into the room, stumbling, at 1:30 AM, grumbling about a damn wife, or damn life. Drunk, I guess, I couldn't make out everything he was saying. Until the end.

"Fuck that bitch. See how she likes living alone."

He picked up the floor lamp and smashed the floor-to-ceiling window in the sitting area. He hesitated a second, then ran out through the opening. Well, goodbye Oliver MacPherson, I suppose. The foyer later told me that old Ollie landed on his head. I suppose that hurt. For a second, anyway.

Over the next nearly fifty-five years, a smattering of incidents happened that I would remember, and use to get the nasty people staying in my rooms to leave.

The weekend of May 13, 2022, would turn out to be the most fun I'd ever had. Unfortunately, it was also the last.

Act 2 - Party Time!

Before I get to what I like to call the grand confusion, I gotta tell you about the homo orgy. Or, well, how I used it. Now, I have nothing against homos, per se. I mean the first time two of them stayed in my rooms... Wow, if I had eyes that sure would have opened them. The two guys who rented the room decided they were going to have a party one night, so they invited a bunch of other guys. I would have said friends, but it quickly became evident they hadn't met each other before that night. Ten of them in all, two or three to a bed.

They apparently weren't very modest. Most of the people who do, well, what they did, sticking body parts into each other, did so underneath the covers, or so I assumed, based on the similar motions. Oh, occasionally I would get a couple that thought themselves porn stars and did that sticking action all over the rooms. Two couples even, what did they call it? Yeah, made a sex tape. Me, I essentially make a tape of everything that goes in in here. You never know when you're going to use it later. That reminds me of something else. If I forget, remind me about the pissed off wife.

Anyway, these ten guys took off their clothes. Nothing unusual there. I've seen thousands of naked bodies, and a whole lot of men and women naked at the same time. But this was all guys. This was about four years after Brodie attacked my walls. One of the guys said something about having their own Woodstock. I couldn't fathom what he meant at the time, but years later, someone played a documentary on one of the TVs. Some major concert or something. Thinking back, yeah, a type of concert would make sense. I don't think there was a single point in time that night there wasn't music playing.

I still remember the singers they listened to. Arlo Guthrie, Country Joe and the Fish. That was an interesting one, for sure. 'Gimme an F, gimme a U, Gimme a C...' You get the idea. Canned Heat. What the heck is THAT, anyway? Janis Joplin. I'd heard of Joplin, it's on the other side of Missouri, but nobody ever called it Janis before. I guess it didn't mean that's where she was from. The Who. Who? Jefferson Airplane. Another town in Missouri, guess they make planes there. 'One pill makes you larger, and one pill makes you small.' That'd be a lot of fun at parties, wouldn't it? Ten Years After. Ten years after what? The Band. Well, I guess they were all bands. Blood, Sweat, and Tears. Yeah, I saw those and a few other body fluids that night. Jimi Hendrix. I'd heard 'The Star Spangled Banner' before, but woah!

Sorry, I got sidetracked. I like it when my guests listen to music. Breaks up the monotony. There was one family that even brought a dog. Left music on for the dog to listen to. He either really liked or really hated one song. He was either trying to sing along or whining because it was so awful. 'Seasons in the Sun.' Can't you just hear a dog howling along with that? My vote's on hated it.

So, these homos spent the whole night sticking their private parts into one another, like I said before, spewing all sorts of bodily fluids. I felt sorry for the cleaning crew the next day. Three of them spent the whole day in the room cleaning. But a couple of those spews came in handy later.

So, John Smith checked in one Monday in 2016. I had doubts it was his real name. There just CAN'T be that many John Smiths in the US. Can there? I lost track at around thirty-five hundred. That's like one a day for almost ten years. Anyway, he mumbled a lot the whole time he was here. Queer this, faggot that, God damned homos. Constantly. Like I said, I have nothing against those people, but this guy, shit, he wanted to kill a bunch of them. The partying homos did things all over the room. So, after an hour of listening to John Smith's bullshit, I started replaying scenes from that party.

He didn't know which way to turn. Like I said, those guys did it everywhere. No matter where Smith looked, I'd show him two guys fucking or sucking. The next day, the cleaning crew refused to clean the room. Even though Smith shot himself, the cops had their contractor come in to clean up Smith's brains. I have to ask you though, why would you stick your head in a microwave before you shot yourself? Well, I heard on the news about a month later some guy did go to Orlando and shoot a bunch of gay people. Yeah, that's when I learned calling them homos wasn't very nice. If Smith didn't ruin a microwave along with his head, I'd say he could have done that shooting at Pulse.

OK, one more short one before I get to what I call the grand confusion. Call this one 'The Angry Wife.' So, this guy usually checked in as John Smith too. But not the last time he was here. No, that time he was Sebastian Robinson. This time Sebastian brought his wife with him. They got into an argument. He kept insisting that he hadn't cheated on her. Well, I knew otherwise. He'd been there twenty-five times before, with twelve different women, and two men. I felt sorry for Mrs. Robinson, her husband lying like that, so I started up the projector. She was fuming by the time girl number three showed up. So, I switched channels, see what I did there, like watching different TV shows? Anyway, I started playing one of his visits with a man. This other guy led him into the main bedroom. Mrs. Robinson followed, exactly like I expected. Smith/Robinson and this other guy were going at it like crazy above the covers. When the sticking was done in Robinson's ass, Mrs. Robinson took out a gun and emptied it into poor Sebastian.

Well, when the cops came and took her away, they were saying things like murder, the death penalty, get the needle. She was just too sweet for that, aside from the shooting, so I made sure the cops caught a glimpse of every single one of her husband's transgressions. I guess it wasn't good enough to be used as evidence at her trial, but I did hear on the news sometime later that she pleaded not guilty due to diminished capacity and spent a couple years in a mental institution before she was released. I guess that was her best possible outcome. Me, of course, would have acquitted her and somehow found a way to punish the asshole husband postmortem.

Part 3 - Exhume the Ghosts Visits

The weekend of May 13, 2022, started out like any other had for the past six months, since the hotel closed. The scuttlebutt was that they were going to tear it down and put up a brand-new hotel. I guess that will be the end of me and a bunch of friends here. Other rooms, kitchen, restaurant, lobby; probably about a hundred of us in all, but that's neither here nor there, well, it is here. Never understood that human expression. Anyway, Friday a bunch of people are let in and start roaming around. A lot of us picked up pieces, but I got a lot because apparently, since I learned how to replay history, I was the topic of quite a few discussions. That and six of them, including cameramen, spent a lot of time in my rooms.

They were all from a cable-TV program called 'Exhume the Ghosts.' Which didn't make a lick of sense to me. It's the bodies that would be exhumed. If there were ghosts, they'd already be roaming around, right? But I didn't pick the name, so that's on someone else.

I tried to gauge if these guys were on the debunking or confirming team. I'd handle it differently depending on which way they leaned. Thankfully, for me anyway, they leaned toward trying to prove ghosts existed. I decided they were going to have their fill of supposed proof. So, rather than them proving that ghosts existed, which would be virtually impossible, I strove to make them believe the truth. Places absorb what happens in them and some of us have learned to exploit that capability. I must say so myself, but after watching a decade or more of assorted ghost guys, I seem to be the preeminent expert on replaying his history.

The first group, sans cameramen, weren't in the room three minutes before I showed them Oliver MacPherson's contemplation of the battle with the big window, which was obviously different by now.

Max Anderson, apparently the leader exclaimed, "Shit, did you guys see that? Tell me you saw that!"

They saw it. Duh! Max looked into a notebook, ruffling through pages, then shouted, "Oliver MacPherson!"

He didn't ask for Oliver to do anything, so I didn't do anything.

"If you are here, Oliver MacPherson, show yourself."

I let his image prior to picking up the floor lamp appear for a fraction of a second.

"Mr. MacPhearson, why did you kill yourself?"

Audio only, "Damn wife."

"Ooooh! Did we catch that? Tell me we caught that."

"Yeah, we got it, Max."

"Oh, my God. Wait, over there, the microwave."

"It's not the same microwave, Max."

"I don't care. Vincent Daly, are you here?"

I didn't have a clue who Vincent Daly was, but since they mentioned the microwave, I figured it had to be John Smith.

"Fucking homos."

I guess they're going to have to bleep that one when it hits the air. That had to come from behind them, because, well, that's where he said it from. They all spun around looking for who said it. Nope, guess again, guys.

"Why did you use the microwave, Vincent?"

Their attention returned to the microwave. Yep, you guessed it. I played him sticking his head into the microwave. Bang! Vincent was dead once again.

"Max. We gotta stop and get the cameras set up in here. What if they can only show themselves a limited time?"

Max pointed out where he wanted cameras. As they roamed through the rooms, I popped up instantaneous images of things they could try to catch with their cameras. Then I wondered if their cameras could actually catch the images.

"Damn, I wish we had more cameras. We need one focused on each bed, the window in the small bedroom, the large window, kitchenette..."

"We got a dozen, Max, we can cover almost everything."

Now that I knew my limit, I picked out the last few places where I could show the most. I planned on showing them things that would probably never make it to the actual show, too. Parts of the gay party, for example. I thought those would elicit a few choice comments.

Twenty-two separate incidents were either referred to the management, or necessitated police involvement. Since Max and his team had no way of knowing about the one-hundred or so more that weren't reported, there wasn't much point in showing them things they were unaware of.

I had a blast showing them everything I could. But, alas, the episode won't air for a few months yet, and my happy home is being razed Thursday. A scant six days after the investigation.

Part 4 - The Episode (Director's Cut)

"Good evening, everybody. I'm Max Anderson. Tonight, we have a special ninety-minute episode of 'Exhume the Ghosts' for you. Earlier this year, we visited the recently demolished Memphis-Mississippi Hotel. The hotel has had a storied history, but many of those stories are just that, stories. No proof of any paranormal activity has been found by us, or anyone else, in any part of the hotel aside from room 606.

"It has always been my goal, as well as the goal of my team, to prove that ghosts exist. A visit to the Memphis-Mississippi Hotel has offered a number of pieces of evidence that there may be more to hauntings than just ghosts. Sure, we've always pinned the haunting on the ghosts themselves, but we obtained footage that indicates there's more to it than we ever could have believed.

"In its uncut version, tonight's episode goes way beyond being rated M for mature audiences. You'll see a warning coming back from every commercial break, but I would be remiss in not telling you outright. You will see violence, as we believe it actually happened. There are sexual situations as well. Both of these items will be very graphic.

"I’ll admit that there have been times when 'Exhume the Ghosts' has used actors to simulate the actual events. Even faked evidence. I assure you, that is not the case tonight. You will see the actual footage we shot in May of this year. There have been many claims that we are a team who uses smoke and mirrors to show proof. We do not believe we do that, most of the time. And I promise you, on my life, that what you'll see tonight, is exactly as it occurred on the night of May thirteenth, 2022."

After the commercial break, the following warning was put on the screen for fifteen seconds:

"This content contains depictions of violence, sexual situations, and/or strong language. This content is intended for mature audiences only. Viewer discretion is advised."

All narration is Max Anderson. Where others spoke, it will be made plain who is speaking.

"We saw so much on our walk-through, we all hoped that the ghosts would cooperate with the cameras running. We'll start with the first reported incident. On March first, 1966, a man named Ted Monroe committed the inexplicable act of murdering his wife and two sons in Room 606 of the Memphis-Mississippi Hotel. Based on police reports, we're going to where we believe that fateful night began. In the main bedroom of room 606, a two-bedroom suite, Ted Monroe sliced his wife's throat. We're going to see if Ted is willing to speak with us.

************************ All of the rest is essentially a rehash, except for dialog, of the scenes described above. Most are extremely graphic. You won't be missing much if you decide to skip to the conclusion. ************************

"Ted, are you here?"

Angel Diaz, one of Max's team spoke first, "Whoa, did you see that?"

"As you all can see, we're looking at a man, okay, he's fading out now. But a man we believe to actually be Ted Monroe was standing over the bed where another person, apparently his wife, is laying in the bed.

"Ted, can you tell us what happened."

Fergal Parker, Max's runner and all-around scaredy-cat, confirmed, "Holy shit, he's back."

Ted wasn't just standing over the bed now. He was starting to lean down, the knife clearly visible. With one quick swipe of the knife, a fountain of blood shot up from the body on the bed.

"Ohhhh! I was hoping for an EVP (Electronic Voice Phenomenon). Something like 'kill her.' That's all we can ever usually get, but to actually see the murder. Whoa!"

Fergal was unsure, "Do you really think we saw what happened that night?"

"I know we're not manipulating the situation. I have to believe that is the case."

Fergal continued, "Too freaky."

Fergal had no idea how much freakier the night would become.

"We'll head to the other bedroom, where Ted's two sons were sleeping. One would die in the same manner his mother did. But the other woke to a different fate. I'm not sure I want to tell you what happened, hoping you'll be able to see it yourself. Ted, what did you do to the boys?

Once again, a man, presumably Ted Monroe leans over a prone body.

A short break occurs.

"You are about to see what will include very disturbing images. Look away for thirty seconds to bypass seeing this."

The scene is such that the knife, Ted, and seven-year-old Adam Monroe are all in screen. Ted leans in, Adam wakes up enough to see his father, "No!" The knife slices across Adam's neck.

We see Ted move to the other bed, four-year-old Barry is awake, he repeats, "No, daddy, no" multiple times. Ted picks him up, but Barry isn't going quietly. In the struggle, Ted drops the knife. He then moves to the window, which is slightly ajar. He elbows it open further, and throws Barry out of it. Ted fades.

"Oh, my Lord. In the span of like twenty seconds, we just watched two more murders. The second boy was indeed found on the sidewalk below this window.

"In July of that same year, a family was staying in this room. The two boys reportedly saw a repeat of the second child’s murder. There have been at least six other incidents reported where the guests have seen exactly just what we have."

A commercial break occurred here, with the above warning upon return.

The scene shifts back to the sitting room.

“When we first arrived, we hadn’t yet asked a man named Oliver MacPhearson if he was here when he appeared before us. I asked why he killed himself. Listen to his response:”

"Damn wife."

“We’re going to try to get Oliver to reappear. Oliver, are you still here?”

The room showed nothing.

“Mr. MacPhearson, how did you get out the window?”

They were all treated to a replay of the suicide.

“The owners of the hotel didn’t share how the window was broken. Now, I believe we know. One by one, the large windows, like the one that appeared in the vision, were all replaced. As were the bedroom windows, so they could not be opened by the guests.

“Behind me was where another incident occurred. I’ll have to warn you folks; this may be extremely graphic if it’s going to be exactly what we saw.”

Even for the “uncut” version, although the room showed them everything, the network limited the view to Oliver dead with his head in the microwave. Of course, that still qualified as extremely graphic.

Another commercial break with the warning occurred.

"As often happens when a man is unfaithful to his wife, the wife gets angry and vows revenge. This room has seen numerous examples of domestic battles. But none were as nasty as what happened to Sebastian Robinson when he made the fatal mistake of bringing his wife to a location where many trysts were held with his various lovers."

What the television cameras recorded was not only Mrs. Robinson brutally gunning down her husband, but what the room showed them. Once again, the program edited out the most graphic of the sex scenes, but enough was shown to let the viewers see exactly what happened.

"We're once again in the master bedroom. Sebastian Robinson, are you here?"

A short clip of a man lying nude, on top of another person, gender unknown, on the bed.

"That was apparently part of the scene that Mrs. Robinson witnessed when she followed the apparitions into this room. Here's what happened next. Once again we will warn you that this is extremely graphic and children should not be present."

The angle changed to one where Mr. and Mrs. Robinson were visible and watching Sebastian kneeling on the bed, on all fours, with another man behind him, very obviously having sex, although no genitals were visible.

"You bastard. With another man?"

Mrs. Robinson pulled a gun out her purse and started shooting. Max provided the voiceover.

"Sebastian was shot eleven times with a Sig Sauer P365. The magazine was found empty when Mrs. Robinson was arrested. Hell hath no fury would be a severe understatement in this case. We'll be back in a few moments."

Part 5 - Conclusions

"On July 17th, 1970, two young men checked into room 606, apparently with the intent of having a party. They invited eight other gentlemen for what turned out to be a sex party. The debauchery at this party caused no deaths, so it surprised all of us when we started getting glimpses of what occurred. If you have children watching, we suggest you make them leave the room. What you will see is uncensored, mainly because all attempts to censor it were somehow rebuked. It was almost as if something wanted to show the real thing. We've edited out everything too graphic, but naked men will be seen."

The room had showed them a lot more than naked men walking around the room and kissing, but that was all the producers would allow to be aired.

"There was much more that occurred that night, but we've restricted it to what you just saw. Why is this part of a program looking for ghosts? As I said at the start, there is more to hauntings than was ever believed before. We were able to contact one of the men who rented the room that night. Nobody died. We showed him the footage. While he said he didn't remember all of the details, he did confirm that everything he saw was likely done that night. He confirmed that the men in the footage were actually the ones present.

"What seeing this led us to conclude was that, while previously suspected, places do indeed store memories of what has occurred. We petitioned to delay the razing of the hotel to be able to obtain additional footage, but we were denied. For full disclosure, now that this episode has aired, 'The Oddities Channel' will be placing all of the unedited footage on its website. There will of course, be a fee to view the footage, and permanently downloading it will not be possible. Go to www.theodditieschannel.tv/memphis-606, to purchase and view the footage. But once again, be warned, it is not for children nor the feint of heart.

"Thanks for watching. This is Max Anderson, for the Oddities Channel, and Exhuming The Ghosts. We hope you have enjoyed tonight's episode."

The End