The Dark Hotel (Part Two)

Gesson knew before long, from the unsettling sounds of scuttling and the outlines of shrill cries that he heard, that there were small forms under the bed moving in unexpected directions.
They were forms that were short and fast and liked to remain hidden, keeping under the bed frame whenever possible. He didn't want to bend down, to look under the bed at them, at their animal shapes and whiskers. It was enough to imagine them and their scuttling and scurrying, their brown and gray shades and dark eyes.
"Dance in your own circles, little creatures! You are just invisible dervishes to me." Gesson tried to straighten himself up and look a little less like he'd been yelling at an unmade bed, running his hands over his white shirt in efforts at maintaining smoothness.
Lurking in the bathroom, Gesson felt the unfamiliar shadows. Shadows beneath the heavy sconces that adorned the walls with their imperiousness and shadows beneath the thick avocado towels that loomed above him on the door of the gigantic shower stall.
Gesson stood in the bathroom doorframe, afraid to be drawn too intensively into the bathroom itself with its strangely deep and unfathomable arrangement of heavy fixtures and the recessive shower stall that went back further and further into the reaches of the bathroom than he would have imagined.
It was a shower stall that provided an all-inclusive environment for an epic shower unlike any he'd experienced before in an urban hotel, a shower stall potentially full of unexpected encounters and relationships with tiles that were unfamiliar, surprising and exotic in their coloring. A stall where he would need to be cautious about laying in plenty of soap provisions before venturing out into a fresh cleansing.