Chief Karuru cried against the fabricating of a hotel near the skeletal dock at Shark Island. However, the exotic tycoons had started with the construction of the hotel at the sand-buried concentration camp. Strangely, the red bricks and glass-wall rooms looked a lot like gravestones. 

A pack of moguls booked online to enjoy their fantasy stay where the night-blue water and the reddish-yellow sun spookily kiss the light-brown dunes. A wealthy couple had planned their honeymoon in Room 19, and they tangled their arms on the dune-soft mattress. It was 19 minutes past 4 pm when the twisting and turning wind blew off the rattling window of their room. After four minutes, a mountain of powdery sand filled the room, burying the lovers who were taking selfies and flashing the tragic wind in the background. Soon the death-journeying couple popped their eyes at the velvety curtains of sand locking the glass door. 

The couple choked on the sand and couldn’t scream through the hip-hopping smartphones. In Room 04, the glass floor had a yawning crack after giving in to the knocking sea. The room was romantically designed to float, while the dreamy guests are fast asleep.  By the time, the guests jingled the bell, the sink-proof room had drifted to the bottom of the sea. There was no Wi-Fi and they were breathing noisily. Beneath the see-through floor, they spotted fleshless legs and arms. They took a video after discovering that the pricey rooms stood on smiling skulls. The skilful divers who came to rescue the millionaires only arrived 19 minutes past 4 pm the next day. The foggy water could not allow the divers to spot the floating room.  

Later, the deep-sea divers smashed the gold-plated glass window and jumped into the room. Immediately, gallons of water sipped into the room and overpowered the selfie-taking divers. A mountain-size wave swept the honeymooners who were French-kissing during their eternal love. Finally, bone-tossing witches performed cleansing rituals at the multibillion-hotel site. 

Another hotel in the shape of a dragonfly was built to fly over the death-stricken island. A crowd of job hunters was trained as pilots to shuttle the winged hotel. A group of job seekers was skilled as cooks in the airlifted hotel. The flying hotel was culturally tolerant towards the haunting skulls of those who died at Shark Island.

Footnote: Historical fiction.