There was no sound but Krystal's motorcycle as she sped down the road. She didn't pay attention to the road, her mind lost in the golden haired man's lips, in the sparkle of his whiskey eyes. He was beautiful and rougish, and she had a odd feeling she knew him from somewhere before.
Krystal parked on the side of the road, seeing a little motel nearby. Walking in, she saw a rotund little man with slicked back graying hair and large tortoise shell glasses. He seemed fidgety and nervous, and invited her to eat with him after learning she hadn't had anything in a while.
"Why not?" Krystal shrugged, a slight smile curling her lips. He grinned and led her into the kitchen.
"I'm Norman. I run the motel with my mother."
"Your mom? Where is she?" She asked, looking around the spotless kitchen as Norman made some sandwiches.
"Resting, upstairs. She doesn't like young women like you very much. I think she's jealous." He smiled timidly at her and Krystal laughed, not tinkling fairy one, but a full belly laugh.
"Well she has nothing to be jealous of with me." Norman's eyes went wide, and he shook his head quickly.
"No, no, it's just-" Something flickered across his watery eyes and he turned away quickly. "You're very pretty." Dinner was continued in silence.
The motel shower wasn't so bad, and the water actually warm. But.. She couldn't shake the feeling of something being wrong. Something about the building, the man, the mom thing was just-
Bates Motel, she thought as the shower curtain opened.
Krystal didn't yell when she woke up in a not forboding hotel, with fancy carpets and a lush bed. There was, however, one thing that bothered her.
The copy of Psycho on her nightstand, with a note written in golden pen.
