Becoming A True Alpha (Teen Wolf)

Chapter 12: Motel From Hell

Chapter 12

There was a song written by the Eagles. It started off rather upbeat. A man drives down the dusty desert roads of America looking for a place to crash for the night. Out of nowhere appears a residential building the man comes accustom to calling Hotel California. The hotel is described as being a place of eternal mystery and youth. The women hold a look of immortality that is foolishly passed off as beauty to him. As the song repeats the chorus several times, the vibe grows darker. The man finds these people he had come acquainted with desperately trying to kill a carnivorous monster. When he attempts to leave the nightman recites to him the last line of the song, "You can check out anytime you like but you can never leave."

When the writer of the song was asked for the meaning behind his lyrics, many were surprised to find the Hotel California ghost story was just that, a story. The meaning, of course, was to take a heavy metaphorical jab at the corrupt music industry and government of his time. To be dragged in by promises and desires. Then, when the veil was lifted, these people would have no where to go. There was no Hotel California.

But as I stare up at the flickering neon sign that spells out the words Glen Capri, I know the owners of this grand place have made a mistake. For looking up at the two story building's crumpling concrete walls and rusted metal stairs, I would much rather spend the rest of the night on that cramped bus. There's just something about the way the wind sounds like a thousand hushed whispers when it whistles by you or the eerie silence of being far from any other civilization. They might as well call this dump of a residence Motel California because it was certainly living up to the credentials of being the filming location for a low budgeted horror movie.

I'm not the only one that has doubt. Lydia seems hesitant as well, looking rather cautious as Allison hands her a plastic room key. I take my own key from Coach, who hands them out to the students like a handful of pardons. All the while giving a very unconvincing speech to stay out of each other's hotel rooms as well as other things.

I readjust the strap of my bag and head for room number 218. All the while ignoring the goose bumps that race up my arm.

The interior of room wasn't anymore pleasant than the exterior. Torn red drapes hang unevenly over the untreated window. A similar red fabric was being passed off as a comforter for the bed and the carpet looked like it hadn't been cleaned in ages. I attempt to turn the television on but the screen is stuck on Channel 201 with nothing but static to watch.

The thought of having a motel room all to myself without Deucalion or Scott's pack breathing down my neck seemed too good to be true, but now, being alone in this old building seemed like a cruel punishment. I have nothing to do but lay on the uncomfortable mattress and listen to the springs beneath me creak with every breath I take. So, despite how disgusting the room is I come to the conclusion that attempting to take a shower is better than having to stare at the peeling wallpaper for one more second.

Although the bathroom looks like it hasn't been updated in over twenty years, the room is relatively clean. I slip off my track pants and tank top and step into the bathtub. Fumbling with the handle, I try to find the right temperature as water sprouts from the nozzle above me. The cold water hits my back, sending chills down my spine.

As the water heats up I find myself relaxing. The creepy old motel melts away as I lean back against tiled wall and close my eyes. The steam rising up from the shower soothes me into a calm daze. I would have fallen asleep if it wasn't for a cold chill that had snuck into the water. Starting off low, I barely notice the change in temperature, but as seconds pass the water grows colder. I reach for the handle with shaking hands and turn it towards the the label spelling out HOT. But the shower only seems to get colder. My whole body shakes beneath the freezing pellets, so I avoid the stream, staying as close to the wall as possible. The mist still hits me though, soaking my skin and chilling my bones. Barely able to grip the nozzle, I pull it all the way up. No warm water comes.