A dull pain crept up, through her spine, slowly emerging in her shoulders and neck, as consciousness come to Catherine’s drowsy mind. Confusion settled itself in the back of her thoughts as memory replaced it. She was in a car, with two complete strangers, one of which surely hated her, driving off into an abyss in the middle of the night, three days since she left her un-beloved home.
“Ji-” a hand forced itself over her mouth before a single word slipped out.
“I think he’s getting better, but you should still keep it down, just in case,” the owner of the hand whispered, carefully watching the front seat. The quiet of the past four hours rang through the car with the wavering echo of those silent words said.
“Fuckin’ idiots. As if I can’t hear them,” Max muttered, but his words were not heard. The three remained in this odd awkwardness for an infinite time span, as they seemed to be immersed in a time warp when surrounded by the vast darkness. Reality returned as the car stopped. Jimmy and Catherine turned to each other, both too fearful to ask.
Max grunted, “I’m tired. Jim, you up for driving?”
Reassured by his slightly calmer voice, Jimmy replied, “What the hell are you doing? We’re in the middle of the road, you can’t just stop here!”
“Chill, it’s fine. It’s 3 a.m. and we’re in the middle of [insert state here]. There’s not a single car out here.”
“That doesn’t mean we should stop here!”
“Well I’ve been driving all the damn day. I’m tired and I think,” Max paused and began sniffing the heavy, cool air. “What’s that fuckin’ smell?!”
Jimmy joined him, checking every object in the car that could present a distinct odor as disturbing as the one in the air, until they both laid their eyes on Catherine.
“How long has it been since you fucking showered?”
Catherine looked shamefully down at herself, attempting to hide the dirt and grime that overtook her person too much to be hidden.
“Max, it’s been a while since we took a break, how about we stop at a hotel for the night? We can still afford it and I think it’d be worth it.”
Max looked crossly back at Jimmy, and with a grunt and a sigh, “Fine, I guess it’s better than continuing in this state.”
The engine groaned and started again, moving with the car for fifteen minutes as all eyes watched the signs along the road, searching for the one they needed. They trio pulled over in a near-empty parking lot by a dirty sign with half it’s bulbs still lit, reading “Mulel”. They walked through a glass door with stained circles left over from a failed attempt at any sort of cleanliness, up to a man fully asleep at a desk, bare except for a bell.
“Should I ring the bell?” the three alternated glances at each other and the sleeping attendant.
“I’m awake! You sss--,” the attendant slowly lifted his head from the desk, stopping himself from insulting the only customers for several days. “How can I be of assistance?”
“We need a room.”
The man turned around and took a ring off a knob on the wall, handing it to Jimmy, as he took a card as exchange. Jimmy held the key on the ring between his fingers, reading carefully the room number: 4.
The three looked around, noticing the room had no doors besides the one they walked in through. A small table with two chairs stood in a corner, by a window with broken, off-white shades. The room was lit by a dull lamp, flickering and fading repeatedly, only to return to its half-lit full strength again.
The attendant handed Jimmy a paper with handwriting on it and the card. As Jimmy stretched his hand out to receive his card and receipt, the attendant added his sales pitch, “A great, warm breakfast can be served at 8 am for another $5.”
Meeting the attendant’s eager eyes, Jimmy grumbled and pulled five crumpled dollar bills from his pocket and placed it on the desk. The attendant took the receipt back, wrote on it again, and handed it to Jimmy.
“So how do we get to room 4 from here?” Jimmy asked.
“Out the door, to your left, around the corner, down the steps,” the attendant said as he counted and smoothed the bills on his desk.
Max walked out, followed by Catherine and then Jimmy, who still watched the attendant behind him as he exited. The three made their way around the building and down several steps onto a walk with a railing on one side, separating them from dried up grass and hardened dirt, and rooms on the other. The numbers continued in descending order, starting from [#] down to four. The numbers continued, although they didn’t. As they approached the yellowed door with a black “4” nailed on, Jimmy pressed the key beneath the doorknob and turned.
“I watched this movie once where a guy was staying in a motel, just like this one. Every room was full and slowly, one by one, each person was killed, according to room number,” Catherine whispered.
The door gave easily and the three walked in, as a chilled breeze broke the nighttime humidity and swept across their backs. Max jumped and pushed the other two into the room, slamming the door as he entered himself.
The room was dark, illuminated only by a glimmer of moonlight escaping in through a small window towards the top of the wall. The three backed up into a huddle. Catherine clutched her bag, noticing as she felt the fabric an outline of a cold and forgotten blade. She clutched closer to her a sketchbook, a few pencils, an empty water bottle, a no longer forgotten blade, and a million fears that should never have existed all crammed in her worn backpack.
