As heard by Adam Bottrell, Sales Executive
It’s fair to describe me as a sceptic when it comes to my views on the paranormal. In fact, that’s probably an understatement. Quite frankly I’ve always been bemused by tales of old buildings being haunted by the tortured souls of former residents (why is it that every creepy-looking old pub has been the scene of a gruesome murder or two?) and when my fiancé regales me with tales of the after-life and spiritual goings-on my general reaction is a subtle roll of the eyes – much to her annoyance.
Seeing as we are knocking on the door of All Hallow's Eve, then this seems a good time to share this tale, that I once heard from a friend, who's friends, friends parents, sister (yep, you get the gist!) went on holiday to Mexico.
So the story goes.... A couple went on a holiday of a life time together staying in a glorious, exclusive hotel in Mexico. The weather was perfect, the restaurants were perfect and the room was perfect – or so they thought. Spacious, modern and ticking all of the boxes of luxury that the price demanded, they thought they were in heaven. But the wife was not so convinced. A self-proclaimed 'feeler' of the spiritual world, she announced when walking through the door: "I don’t like this. There’s something in this room and I don’t like the feeling it’s giving me."
Fast forward three days to a guided trip to Chichen Itza, with an incredibly animated tour guide. During the fairly long coach journey home, said guide started nattering about his ‘main job’ as a paranormal investigator. The couple rolled their eyes. But everybody else on the trip seemed totally intrigued. He asked if anyone on the coach was staying in the resort because, you guessed it... it was believed to have been built on an ancient burial ground and was known as one of the most haunted spots in Riviera Maya. Cue the lady grabbing her husbands’ arm and declaring 'I TOLD YOU SO'. A few of the tourists on the trip raised their hands and he proceeded to ask for room numbers to coincide with his personal ‘ghost hunting book’, (which he just happened to have with him).
He spoke to a few people, and knocked them off the list 'nope, you're fine' and 'You're ok - no ghost sightings in that room'. He then approached the couple... 'oh dear, what room did you say you were in'. The colour drained from his face, "Look, here in my book – we’ve had dozens of reports from that room. We’ve even had staff refuse to clean that room. Stay away from the mirror."
The husband still didn’t believe it until the guide thrust the ghost book into his face and his wife read the crudely-written notes, next to apparent terrifying complaints about their very room. The woman was now nearly hysterical, but the husband insisted it was all just nonsense and obviously was not going to let on that it had left him feeling a bit unsettled!
The next night the husband was getting ready to get in the shower alone in the room, when he noticed a blur flash past the mirror. It was so fast that his mind hardly registered it. He presumed it was his wife somewhere in the room. He shouted out to her, but she was nowhere to be seen. He put it to the back of his mind, and cursed himself for being so pathetic, and got in the shower. Two minutes later a loud crash from the bedroom got his attention and he jumped out – once again to find nothing there. He turned back to the bathroom and then saw it again – a flash across the mirror. This time it was slightly clearer, almost an image of a child without real features. It was one of the most unnerving things he had have ever witnessed.
After at least three ‘sightings’, always in the mirror and when he was alone in the room, he made some enquiries and he was told, very matter-of-factly, by a staff member: "Oh, you’re in THAT room – it’s likely you’ve just had a run-in with a Mayan Alux then. Go read up on them, it shouldn’t hurt you though."
So he did – and it turns out that an Alux is the name given to a type of sprite or spirit from Mayan mythology typically associated with playing tricks on unsuspecting people.