The Girl in the Motel

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He stormed through the corroded metal doors, stirring up dust that had long settled on the aged carpet of the decaying Gemini Motel. One thing was on his mind: a key. Looking left and right, he scanned the room for any possible places he could look. To his left was a small desk, possibly once for a computer angry guests could contact costumer support with. To his right was the main desk, where young greeters and receptionists would have sat, welcoming tired guests after long days of travel. And directly ahead, two stone girls loomed over him, holding hands as they watched the small lobby. Their eyes were dark and barren, the gems they once contained being long ripped from their sockets. He stared at them for a moment, being frozen in place as if turned to stone himself.

Shaking away his fear, he turned to his right, and began searching the welcome area. He set his backpack down on the desk, which was surprisingly free of dust and mold, and smelled of lemon. Carefully stepping over shards of glass from a shattered window nearby, he walked behind the desk, taking aim at a small drawer beneath the tabletop. Using a small knife he pulled from his pocket, he tried to open the drawer, jiggling the blade inside the keyhole. It wouldn't budge. He took the knife out and reinserted it, this time using more force in an attempt to break the lock from the inside. Nothing. In frustration, he hit the desk with the flashlight he held in his left hand, sending cobwebs shooting in every direction from under the desk. The noise radiated across the room and out the shattered windows and corroded doors.


"Shit," he exclaimed, quickly covering his mouth as he spoke. All went silent. Tap. Tap. Tap. Water from a leaky pipe above hit the ground, creating the only noise in the entire building. He held his breath and listened: a bird chirped outside, the pipe dripped, and a gentle whoooo sound came from an empty hallway, most likely the work of the wind. Then, the lobby went dark, for a short instant. The shattered window had been covered up, but just as quick as it appeared, whatever had covered it up was gone.

"Very funny, guys!" He said, looking out the window which had just gone dark only a second before. He walked towards it, being engulfed by the damp gray carpet which had the consistency of quicksand.

"I know it's you, Ben," He yelled, trying to explain his experience in his mind. He looked out the window, looking towards his car, which was parked at the end of the parking lot. Much to his terror, both his partners Ben and Jan were still in the car, bopping their heads to the beat of whatever song was playing inside the silver windows. His heart was pounding. His teeth were clenched. But he had to find the key. His fans were counting on him.

He walked back to the desk, his entire body trembling as if an earthquake had just occurred. He resumed searching the area, checking the walls for any sign of a safe where keys could be held. Picking up only dust as he ran his finer against the flowery wallpapers on the wall, he gave up. He twisted his body to look around the room from the new angle: there was a hallway he hadn't seen before, leading to a small silvery door which glimmered from the light which radiated from the single window. He walked towards it, walking around the carpet spots that closely resembled quicksand. As he walked closer, he heard another noise. Footsteps. Carefully, he pressed his ear against the door to try to hear where the footsteps were coming from. On the other side of the door, he heard someone run past, their footsteps clomping as they stepped. The color drained from his face, freezing himself in place. Struggling, he reached for his phone, dialed Jan, and put it at his chest. Ring ring. Ring Ring. He tried to listen to the footsteps to see if they were coming from Jan, who always refused to let her phone hear her side. As he listened, he heard nothing.

"Hello?" A girls voice radiated around the room, sending shivers up his spine. He threw his phone to his ear, hoping Jan had answered and that voice belonged to her. Ring ring. Ring ring. His chest pounded as he tried to look around the corner to see if there was someone in the lobby with him. There was a creepy, almost ominous tone to the voice, and it sent his brain into overdrive.

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