Paper Rings - SS

Motel California

"I need some air." She tells them quickly. She walks out to the balcony and tries to calm herself down. "Do you want to talk about it?" Lydia says as she walks out to Max with towels in her hands. "I'd rather not." Max says as she looks out to the parking lot. "Why are you out here with towels?"

Lydia chuckles as she looks down, "They smell like nicotine." Max laughs in understanding, "Alright I'll go with you." Lydia grabs Max's hand as the two friends walk down to the main office.

"Excuse me. The card on the dresser says we have a non-smoking room, but somehow all of our towels reek of nicotine." Lydia tells the lady at the front desk. "Sorry about that, sweethearts." She says with a smile.

"Um, what's that?" Max asks, pointing up to the sign that says 198 on it, "That number?"

"It's a kind of inside thing for the motel. My husband insists on keeping it up." Both girls look at each other, "What do you mean?" Lydia asks. "It's a little bit morbid, to be honest. You sure you want to know?"

"I think we can handle morbid. Tell us." Max says. "We're not gonna make the top of anyone's list when it comes to customer satisfaction." The lady says. "Obviously." Max mutters.

"But we are number one in California when it comes to one disturbing little detail. Since opening more than any other motel in California, we have the most guest suicides."

"198?" Lydia asks, her voice shaking.

"And counting." The lady laughs causing Max to turn white.

🌕

"198?" Allison asks both girls. "Yes, and we're talking forty years." Max tells her as she takes a seat next to Lydia, rubbing her shoulders. "On average, that's-" Max says turning towards Lydia, "4.95 a year which is actually expected." Lydia tells both of them, "But who commemorates that with a framed number? Who does that? Who?"

"All suicides?" Allison asks. "Yes. Hanging, throat-cutting, pill-popping, both barrels of a shotgun in the mouth suicides. I don't know about you two, but me-" Lydia says before she stops talking. Max looks up towards Allison as she sits up, "Lydia?"

"Which... which one do you want?" A voice says, making Lydia stop and cock her head slightly to listen. "Did you hear that?" Lydia asks them. "Hear what?" Max asks slowly.

"I don't know. The smaller one, I guess.."

"It's okay. Smaller's better - there's less kick." A man said and Max gets off the bed as Lydia climbs onto the bed walking over to the vent on the top of the wall. "I'll chamber the round." He said, "All right, so..."

"Wait, wait! When do I... I mean, do you count?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I'll... I'll... I'll count to three.

"So after three or on three?"

"You tell me."

Max walks over to Allison as the girls share an inquisitive look. "Oh, my God, oh, my god." Lydia whispered.

"One... two... Then pull the trigger."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"One... two." Gunshots blast through the vent sending Lydia staggering off the bed, hands to her mouth.

"What is it, Lydia? What happened?" Allison asks. "Did you hear that?" Lydia questions. "Hear what?" Max asks. Max helps Lydia off the bed as Lydia grabs onto Max for her life. "The two people in the other room - they shot each other." Lydia says quickly, pulling Max towards the door and out of the room.