u/MadienMotherCrone

The kids in my town all talk about the “mirror tunnel.” I mean, hell when I was growing up we used to call it the ‘echo tunnel’. Every generation had a different name for it and everyone that goes to Pine Shade Elementary goes into the tunnel. It’s a right of passage, an urban legend that each generation changes to their own interpretations of the story.

You see the mirror tunnel is just that it’s a mirror. The kids say that when you crawl into the tunnel underneath the school, that you’ll see something down there. I can barely remember what it was like to be five and I don’t recall seeing my doppelgänger. But the kids still talk about it and swear that it’s actually real. Every kid I talk to tells me a different story, but one thing in the story always remains the same, a constant point that links everything.

They always see themselves down there, a little different but it’s always them. The girls say sometimes they see themselves, and they might have a different tooth missing or they have a bow in their hair. Adults always laugh it off as some elaborate joke that only children could think of. A whole different world down there, where your doppelgänger lives? That must be a joke, right?

I mean surely if there was an alternate world underneath of the elementary school. By now one of the children would have brought back the other version of themselves and we the adults would then have a completely different problem on our hands, right?

That’s what I thought until now.

I don’t work at the elementary school, but I do have a daughter that goes there. She’s a sweet girl, and I’ve loved her from the minute that I laid eyes on her. She was my baby girl and I knew in that moment I would do anything for her. I know some parents say that they’d do anything for their children, and they think they mean it. When she had been diagnosed, I had cried and cried. My husband had tried to console me, that we’d get her all the care she needed. But that was the first night that I mourned my daughter. Mourned the idea of her not growing up and getting older. Never getting to see her go to college, find someone that made her smile or be there for her first child.

That was also the night I decided that we needed to move out of the city and back home. Back to the town that I had grown up in. It was a small town, but still big, if you know what I mean. Everyone knows everyone and it’s a close community. My mother also still lived there and I could work remote, my husband could do the same so we left the hustle and bustle of the city. Maybe, the change of environment would help her get better. At that point I just wanted my baby to be comfortable.

My daughter was happy to move. She was excited to be near GeGe. We’d moved during the start of second grade, but she was able to make the adjustment easy enough.

“Mom,” she had come bounding up to me one afternoon. Her cornflower hair wild as she bounced foot to foot. “I made friends!” Her smile had been radiant. It had been over a month since we moved there but she had finally settled in.

The town was just as I remembered it, even though it was decently sized it was still small town vibe. Everyone knew everyone. Mom complained that people acted different than I remembered. She insisted that something was going on in the town. I patiently agreed with her, and mentally noted that I should probably take her along to the next doctor’s visit. It had probably been a while since she had gotten a check up. Her age was probably starting to catch up to her. Plus, most folks commented that they hadn’t seen her inside town for a couple years now.

“She stopped coming about three years ago,” the cashier, an older lady probably around mom’s age, Rhonda had explained. “Now she calls over and we pack her groceries and James delivers them to her.” She pointed towards a man who looked vaguely familiar.

I’d thanked for her then pushed my cart towards the man that was at the customer service counter. The closer I got to him the more the feeling of knowing him gnawed at my mind. He had short dark hair, a straight toothed smile that was pearly white, and a scar that ran down his right cheek. He looked up from the word search that he was working on and met my eyes. The iris were a warm brown, and he blinked slowly at me. It was reminiscent of a cat that was just waking up.

“If it isn’t freckles,” he said. I rolled my eyes at the nickname, I’d gone away for the summer and came back covered in freckles from being out in the sun. Children always come up with the meanest nicknames, picking out that single flaw that makes you feel small. Now as I stand here as an adult,I find that the nickname once anxiety and panic inducing. Instead, it feels like a waypoint back into an old fond memory.

“Very original Jimmy,” I said snorting. He smiled bashfully, then he quickly puts down the pencil in his hand and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I go by James now, it’s more Professional,” he said. I nodded my head in agreement. It seems that I wasn’t the only one that had grown up.

“I’d heard you moved back to town, you’re married and have a kid. We’ve all grown up haven’t we freckles?”

“It feels just like yesterday we were rough housing on the playground doesn’t it. Don’t call me freckles, it was a mean nickname even if it was true.”

“My bad, Claire,” he quickly said. Holding his hands up in mock surrender. I smiled he was the same old jokester that I remember.

“So you’re the one that’s been delivering stuff to my Mom?” I asked.

“Yeah, I have been for a while. I always liked your Mom. She made the best cupcakes. But why do you ask?”

“I was just curious, has she been seeming okay to you?”

“What do you mean? She’s gotten maybe a little more paranoid.” His face wrinkled in confusion. “Why is there something wrong with her? I just saw her last week and she seemed fine.” His barrage of questions was sweet. I reached out and patted his arm.

“Mom’s doing just fine, I just see her more often and I wanted to make sure she’s keeps up with her health. She’s getting older and I want to make sure she comfortable.”

After than he visibly relaxed and I carried on with the small talk and enjoy the comfortable conversation, before excusing myself and heading home. But the entire way home something itched at my brain as if I was forgotten something important. I couldn’t dwell on it because Tera was waiting for me, and we had to get her to chemo.

The chemo was working, but her cancer was severe. Medication was helping, but it wasn’t completely destroying it. I’d choked back my tears and we’d gotten ice cream on the way home. She’d gotten mint chocolate chip ice cream in a waffle cone, her favorite. That night I’d talk to my husband, cried and decided that we wouldn’t tell her that it wasn’t going away. She deserved to enjoy being a kid, even if I didn’t know how much longer that was…

Now looking back maybe she had heard us, maybe she saw how sad I was and made the decision. I can’t claim to know what a seven year old is thinking. But we continued on, it wasn’t until one day in mid October that’s at least I think when it happened, that something fundamentally had changed.

Just the week prior she had been talking to me about the “mirror tunnel.” Saying that some of her friends had dared her to head into it. I asked her if she had, and she quickly told me that she hadn’t gone there. She had, of course, quickly changed the conversation into something else and I was happy to go with the flow. If she was smiling then I was happy, that’s all any parent wants right for their child to be happy and healthy.

It had started raining and I had a meeting running late. I couldn’t pick her up right as school ended, I’d arrived to pick her up and found her waterlogged, looking like a drowned cat. I’d quickly shuffled her into the car, toweled her off and jumped back into it.

“Honey, why are you drenched?” I asked.

It was then that I noticed that she was wearing a pink shirt with hearts, but I thought she had left the house in a pink shirt with stars. But I could have been wrong it was a long day and I had started my morning at 4 am. Not to mention her hair was in braids, I knew that I didn’t have time in the morning to do that.

“I saw a kitty,” she told me softly.

“Okay, well next time tell one of the adults. You shouldn’t be running around in wet clothes,” I told her softly. “Can you promise me that you wouldn’t run outside in the rain?” I asked.

“I promise,” she said, holding up her pinky and I smiled and raised my pinky up in response.

Everything seems normally, but thinking back that was the first day I noticed the changes. At first it was small things, she normally loved playing with her dolls, but she didn’t touch them and had wanted coloring books. Habits that I had grown accustomed to were different. Now I understand children’s wants and desire change like the wind, but Tera had loved dolls and stuffed animals for as long as I can remember. Probably due to how much time she had spent in the hospital.

She was also eating more, I had at first attributed that to maybe the medication was working. They said that increased appetite was a good sign that the body was fighting off the cancer and that the chemo was working. I’d be over joyed to see my baby eating and looking healthier. It was the second time I’d taken her to her doctor appointment after that rainy day. I felt the same dread I always felt, when taking my baby to the hospital. My husband had come along with me, he had just gotten back from a work trip.

They took Tera away to run some test and a little while later the doctor appeared. I looked at my watch it had only been an hour normally we’d be in the doctor office for about three hours. He had a look on his face that made my stomach drop out. I stood and my husband followed suit, this had been Tera’s doctor for years now. He was an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair. He wore silver framed glasses and always wore a pressed suit.

“Doctor?”

“I have some news,” I felt sick at that word, “mind you good news. I mean honestly I couldn’t believe my eyes, I’ve looked over the reports and well, it seems like Tera’s body might be nearly eradicating the cancer. We’ll have to do some more test, but the blood work is looking promising along with today’s results.” He said, I could hear the surprise that colored his voice. Almost as if even he couldn’t believe the words coming from his mouth.

Maybe it was then that I should have been worried, known that it was odd that my Daughter was miraculously better. As far as I knew it was abnormal for it to suddenly just get better. But any parent would selfishly want to believe that their child was cured of this malicious affliction. After more test a month had passed and Tera had been cleared of it all, she was in full remission.

But I began to notice that my Daughter was different. We had decided to throw a party for her, I’d invited my Mother and she had actually shown up. I had always been the one that would drive to her house with Tera in tow. It was always effort on my part to get together with my Mother. It was worth it because they both got along. Now she was making the effort to come visit us.

Moving around the children that were running around the house and thanking the guest that showed up. I made my way to the door, I could hear the doorbell being rung and pulled the door open. There stood my Mother having her standing in the doorway was an odd feeling, I was happy that she’d shown up. But it was bittersweet, her hair was going grey the normal long black curls were starting to turn ashen. Her skin was wrinkled in spots, but she still stood straight age not completely taking her strength. She had a gift that was wrapped neatly tucked under her arm and she raised her green eyes to meet my own.

“Claire,” her voice was like a jump back to my childhood.

“Hi Mom. I’m glad that you were able to make it,” I said. Truthfully, I was happy that she had shown up. I was worried about her, she seemed to be regressing. Slowly becoming a recluse in a town where she was well liked, her telling me that people weren’t what they seemed.

“Of course, I would come over, my Granddaughter doesn’t have cancer anymore! I would have to be a real cold hearted woman to not want to come and celebrate that,” she snapped. But there was no venom. She was just a no nonsense woman, and she didn’t mince words.

“Come on in the kids are set up in the backyard. We’ve got a bounce house set up. I didn’t think that would be something that she’d be interested in, but I suppose for the first time she feels good,” I said softly.

“I remember one year you insisted that you wanted a bike for your birthday. Then we get you your bike and you say that you don’t want that and instead want roller skates. That’s just how children are they are fickle and they don’t mean any harm in it. To them everything is new and exciting,” she said stepped through the threshold into the house.

It seemed that my husband had managed to round up all the kids and the house was eerily quiet. Mom continued forward, she walked through the house as if she knew it. She caught me following her and gave me a small smile.

“This was Mrs.Emerson’s house. I doubt you’d remember her, she didn’t have any children. But we were close up until she passed away a couple years ago. I’m glad that you got her house,” she sighed.

Maybe this was the segue way that I was looking for to talk to her about her behavior and lack of interest in talking to the people in town. Or about the fact that she thought that some people weren’t the people that she’d known for years now.

“James mentioned that you haven’t been into town in three years,” I started my voice growing small when she turned to face me. We’d arrived in the kitchen, just a few paces away from the door that lead to the party outside. I could hear the excited yelling and laughter of the children.

“People do love to gossip,” she said dryly. “It’s a small town, I’m not surprised that my lack of social intrigue has caught everyone’s eyes.” She moved forward towards the window her eyes looking out at the children.

“Did something happen?” I ask.

“Something always happens in small towns, there is always gossip and then there’s an old woman that just wants to be left well enough alone. Half the people that are in this town are transplants moving out of the city and into a town to get away. Similar to yourself honey, but at least you’re from here. Plus, can’t an old wo-“ She stopped midway her. Her entire body went rigid as if she had frozen in place.

Her hand was clenched so tight that she was shaking. I stepped forward alarmed, she was older, and I was worried that she was having a stroke, but she wasn’t convulsing and her breathing was normal just extremely slow as if she was afraid to breath at all. Stepping closer, I followed her line of vision and saw that she was staring directly at Tera. She was laughing with a group of girls. I frowned and reached out to touch my Mother’s shoulder. But her hand shot upwards and caught mine before I could touch her. It was startling but I looked at her.

“When did you say her cancer started to show signs of remission?” Her words were slow and deliberate, as if she was carefully trying to explain them to me.

“About a month ago,” I answered. Shaken by the look in my Mother’s eyes.

“Specifics, Claire. I need specifics!” She snapped.

“September Tenth.”

“Did you notice anything strange or different before that?” She pried, her grip on my wrist was tight, almost painful as if bite down into my wrist.

“Mom, can you please let go your hurting me.”

“Claire!” Her voice rose an octave. It was the same tone that she’d used when I was in trouble and she wanted me to tell her the truth. “I need you to think long and hard, has there been any inconsistency’s?”

“What do you mean?” I asked. Now more worried that my Mother was starting to really lose her grip. Perhaps, this was the reason that she had stopped interacting with the towns people, maybe she was becoming more paranoid. She was getting up there in years.

“You know what I mean Claire! Even if you don’t realize it now you’ll start to piece it together. Did Tera change at all outside of the normal? Does she still like her favorite things? Have you found something that you don’t remember getting for her?” She shot the question off rapid fire.

At the time I just stared at her in disbelief this was erratic behavior and I think she saw in my eyes that day that I didn’t believe her. Her grip on my wrist dropped and she stepped away, casting one more glance over her shoulder to look out at her Granddaughter.

“Come see me when you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.”

Those were her last words to me after she stormed out of the house, present casual tossed to the side. I watched her figure as she left, she hopped into her beat up truck and drove off. The entire way she never cast a glance backwards. I don’t remember how long I had watched after she vanished from sight. But at some point, I had returned to the backyard and the party wrapped up smoothly and I tried to forget my Mother’s words. But they nagged at me for weeks on end. It wasn’t until one evening that we’d gone out as a family to get ice cream. I had gotten to the counter and put in our order when Tera had tapped me on the side.

“Mom, I don’t want mint chocolate chip. I want strawberry,” she said. I blinked down at her confused, ever since I had first introduce her to ice cream she always chooses mint chocolate chip. Her smile was warm and I noticed that she was missing her left big tooth. I thought it was the right one that had come out earlier.

“But darling you always get mint chocolate chip its your favorite,” I said. She shook her head and said once again.

“I want strawberry, it’s my favorite,” she repeated.

That was the start, the start of the changes that were to the point that I began to question everything. The words that Mother had said to me played in my head, the story about the tunnel, everything was starting to swirl in my head. Soon I couldn’t take it anymore, one day while she was at school I tore through her room. Clothes, toy and notebooks I looked for anything out of place. I’d been through nearly everything, it was then at my wits end thinking maybe, just maybe, I had lost it. A small plank on the floor near her bed caught my attention, it looked as if it had been pried upwards and then hastily pushed back down.

Finding purchase on the edge of the floorboard I pulled it up. Inside squirreled away almost as if it was supposed to be hidden, which given the location it was absolutely meant to be hidden was a shirt. Pulling it out, I watch as it unfurls, my heart skipping a beat as the print on the front of it comes into view. Hearts. Cute little hearts were decorating the pink shirt. That was the day that I was late to picking Tera up. The shirt was covered in mold on the edges, she must have shoved it in there immediately the day we got back home. I tried to remember that day, but I wasn’t sure my memory from so long ago would be accurate. But a deep unsettling feeling began to bubble up in my chest. Why would she have hid this from me?

I don’t remember much of what transpired after that, but I took the shirt. Not telling my husband, I saved the shirt putting it into a zip lock bag. There were to many things, to many odd occurrence, the changes were stranger and stranger. I swore she knew that the shirt was gone, I’d catch her looking at our bedroom door. Her little body standing absolutely still as she looked on at it.

She would only do it when she thought I wasn’t watching. But you get good at watching your children without them knowing and soon, I felt the trickle of fear, the small river that had begun to open in my mind. Clawing through it relentlessly as I compared everything and soon in December. I became convinced that my Daughter might not be my actual Daughter. Once a thought like that takes root it’s hard to dislodge, hard to reason against!

I’d overheard some of the kids whispering about the mirror tunnel. My ears desperately straining to hear them, but I think they noticed because they immediately stopped talking their little voice dwindling like a low fire. I remember the little looks on their face as they left, they were alien as if they were weary of my presence. Soon enough it began to feel like more and more eyes would follow me in town. Now it felt wherever I went there were always eyes watching. Conversation would come to a halt around me as people seemed to avoid me hearing them! It wasn’t everyone, but it was enough that I began to feel ill in public places.

Maybe that why I find myself driving to my mother’s house. My mind swirling and mulling over everything, worried that I was over reacting. But I couldn’t trust myself to know if my daughter who has made a miraculously recovery was my actual daughter. I wondered if any other parents would react the same as me if they too thought that their child wasn’t actually their’s. Or would they be happy that their child was healthy and thriving, that the vicious disease ravaging their child was absent.

All those thoughts bubbling upwards in my mind fighting, a cacophony of information, all while I tried to piece them together like a puzzle. A bolt of panic and anxiety burrowed into the forefront of my mind. Could I have a child in my home right now that was not the child I had arrived in town with?

Hands gripping the steering wheel I knew what I had to do! I needed to know what it was my Mother knew about the town, and about that tunnel the children whispered about.

Part One

Hilda hadn’t been there the next morning. It bothered me a little bit, that same feeling from the airport surfaced about no one knowing me, but I shoved it down. After getting dressed, I managed to retrace my steps and arrived back at the front reception area of the Motel. It looked less eerie in the morning light, the windows that were in the room had been opened, and there was a man that was standing behind the desk. He was an older gentleman, his hair was shock white but he was sporting a full head of it. It was manicured and he looked excited to see me. 

He stood greeting me with a full wide smile encompassing his face. He was handsome, more handsome than I excepted him to be. It was a little disconcerting, but I mustered up my own smile. The Hawaiian shirt that he was wearing had a tiki pattern with big yellow flowers and he had blue jeans and flip flops on. It felt so out of place in the cold environment, I nearly tripped over my own feet. Even with his age, I could see that he has well maintained his skin, although wrinkled, looks vibrant and he walked with ease. 

“Welcome Ms.Wallacott,” his tone was jovial, and I knew that voice it was the same one that had interviewed me over the phone only a few weeks earlier. Walking forward quicker, I stretched out my hand as I neared him. Praying that my misstep hadn’t been noticed and that I was making a good first impression. 

“Mr.Neman it’s a pleasure to meet you in person,” I said. His hand closed around mine and I released a breath that I hadn’t even realized that I’d been holding. It was a warm handshake that greeted me, his eyes twinkled as the frosty blue orbs did a once over of me. They felt searching much the same as Hilda but it was far less invasive. Though I attribute that to him being conventional handsome, even if he was older. 

“I see, Hilda got you here in one piece.” 

“Thank you for sending her to pick me up. I didn’t see any taxi’s.” I paused at that, I really hadn’t  seen a single Taxi. Even if it was a small airport normally there would have been some sort of transportation service to get people where they were going. 

He nodded, and gave a small whistle. I heard the yawn and then the great big head of a dog appeared. My heart gave a slight jump as from behind the counter a massive creature appeared. She was probably came to about my mid waist, this had to be Graham Cracker the mascot that was mentioned in the welcome package. 

“Graham, come here girl.” Mr.Neman called. The big beast took only a second to get here, its massive legs and body easily covering the distance. She had the most enchanting eyes I think I’d ever seen on a dog. They were a warm grey and had fleck of gold in them. Her coat was a grey and speckled with white and black spots. She had a collar around her neck that looked expensive, it was a white chain that seemed to sparkle when the light caught it just right. There was no tag on it, just the image of a Graham Cracker as a charm. 

“Good girl,” he cooed. He had produced a small treat and the dog had lapped it up without me so much as catching a glance. She then turned her head towards me to take me in. I held myself still and held out my hand to her, I knew that you weren’t supposed to look dogs in the eyes. It was a sign of challenge, but I couldn’t pry my eyes away from hers. She stepped forward again, her massive head bent to smell my hand. 

Then she gave a sniff and rubbed her face against it. The pattering beats of my heart finally slowed down, I don’t know why I felt relieved. If she was the Motel’s Mascot that must have meant she was friendly, maybe, it was the sheer size of her that did it. After a little ear scratching, she laid down at our feet. Still about the same height as a small toddler, even while not standing on all fours. 

“I’m glad to see that she approves of you. Now I know that you probably have some questions for me. Think of today as your introduction, tomorrow will be your first official day accepting in guest,” he said with a wink. 

You’re probably thinking, ask him about the people last night! I wanted to ask him, I really did, but the rules kept ringing at the back of my head. Should I even bother him with a question about something that was already covered in the rules? They had to be there for a reason, and did I really want to question the rules that he’d explicitly outlined in the welcome package? 

Not really. 

For the rest of the day, I followed him around and learned about my responsibilities and met some of the housekeeping staff. It was a skeleton crew, as it wasn’t during the week, when we’d actively accepting guest and turning over rooms. Graham Cracker hadn’t left my side after that first interaction, and I found the presence of the dog to be comforting. 

By the end of the day, I was handed my keyring, and told to keep them on my person as stipulated in rule number three.

Rules 3 : Always keep the key ring on your person as you move about the motel. It’s best if they are kept on silver chain and either tucked into your pocket and fastened to a belt loop. If you’ve chose to wear a skirt or a dress for the day, they should be attached to a silver ring that can be worn as a bracelet. 

The bracelet had been provided for me. It was cute with a bow, and before I knew it the time had reached eight in the evening. I hadn’t seen a single guest in my time wandering the Motel with Mr.Neman. Graham Cracker had taken up residence in my room, I’d found a dog bed that I don’t remember being there from the other day, but I was tired and might have missed it. 

In the end, I never did ask about the couple that had been outside the previous night, and no one made mention of them either. Thus, the following days passed in a blur, the job was easy and there weren’t that many check ins. 

I had started to think that I’d completely imagined the people from my first night. Making all sort of excuses as to why my brain might have conjured them up. All and all I had assumed that it hadn’t happened in the first place and that I must have been so sleep deprived and stressed out. 

Then, on Friday afternoon at 3 pm they arrived. My heart nearly jumped out of my throat, my foot had accidentally caught Graham and she let out a little huff of annoyance. I reached down and patted her head, my own form of a quick sorry. I’d make sure to give her a treat as a full apology, but for now my eyes were trained on the guest that had just walked through the doors. The gust of frigid air was warmer than the chill that ran down my spine. It was them… the couple from the first night was standing in my lobby. 

They looked almost exactly the same as I the last time I’d seen them. Biggest difference was that they were standing in the lobby, I stood up willing a customer service smile to appear on my face. He was taller now that he was approaching me, my stomach did a small flip when he arrived in front of me. He had his sunglasses on still, and he didn’t seem keen on removing them anytime soon. My throat was dry all of the sudden, faced with the people that I thought had been figment of my imagination was a sobering experience. 

“Hello Welcome to the Motel ****. Do you have a reservation?” I asked, all while mustering the best customer service voice I could. I needed to sound calm and in control, even though I felt that at any moment I might break into uncontrollable nervous laughter. 

“Yes, our reservations are under Atwood,” his voice was low. The girl had arrived at his side, and she was still on her phone. She was in a slightly different outfit than the one that I had previously seen her in. But it was still to light to suit the weather that was developing outside, it was starting to snow and the weather report for the area had called for heavy snow. 

Turning my attention to the archaic computer that ran all the reservations for the Motel. I input Atwood, and there it was a reservation for three adults. I glanced upwards and looked around to see if there was a third person that I had missed, but it was just them, Graham Cracker and me. I bite my lip before taking a breath. 

“It says here that there are three adults on the reservation?” 

I couldn’t tell if he blinked as his eyes were still behind sunglasses. His body language read ‘boredom’ as if he just wanted to move on from the situation. 

“They’ll be coming by later,” he supplied after a long moment. 

“I see. Do you have a card that I can keep on file for any damages or surcharges to the room?” 

“Here,” the girl inserted. She held up a black card, and slide it forward across the counter towards me. Her fingernails were long, and they were painted black, but I noticed that underneath her nails it looked like there was something stuck there. I reached out and took the card, my hand brushing hers, and I felt a chill where our skin connected. Quick as I could I pulled my hand back and quickly began to run the card. 

It was only after I had swiped the card and slid it back across towards the couple that I noted there was dirt on the counter. It was a dark rich black, if I focused I could actually smell the wet earth. She reached out and swiped the card back up and in the process removed the dirt. Or at least what I assumed was dirt, I was still shaken up over them actually being real. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Atwood,” I said. 

“She’s not an Atwood, this is Margret,” the man, Mr.Atwood, supplied. His tone was dry and matter of fact. I nodded my head, and quickly mumbled an apology. Turning around, I face the massive stack of drawers that were behind me. The reservation had the room number 305 listed. I reached up on my tippy toes and pulled out the drawer. It was actually cleaner than I imagined. 

Inside of the small wooden box was a set of two keys. They were old twisting metal that looked ancient. Within the twists of metal was a small crescent moon shape design and the handle of the key, the teeth were a complex and looked as if they had been painstakingly filed to be identical. Retrieving the keys, I turned around to find the girl, Margret was staring at me. Her eyes bore into me with a frightening level of scrutiny. 

It was the same look that she had given me on that night. She turned her head away and looked down at the phone that was in her hands, her attention being reabsorbed into the device. All at once that unsettlingly unease washed over me like a tidal wave. 

“One key each, that must be returned on your departure. Which is scheduled for Monday morning. If you are to need anything please dial 2 to reach house keeping, and if there is anything that I can do for you please dial 0.” 

He plucked the keys from my hands and turned, not even waiting for me to give directions to his room. Margret followed behind him, as they were walking away, I heard her whispering to him. I turned around to put the drawer back, but the clearing of someone throat drew my attention. 

“What’s your name?” 

I turned my head and gave them my best smile. “Ms.Wallacott.” 

He didn’t say anything, but they kept walking and I went back to the drawer. Once it was in its right spot, I reached for the glass jar of dog treats. Grabbing one, I bent down and gave it to Graham. She practically inhaled the treat. I pet the massive dog trying to steady myself after that interaction. 

I thought they’d settle in and leave me alone, but oh boy was I wrong about that. The calls started maybe two hours after they arrived. 

The sharp ring of the phone, pulled me out of the book that I was reading. 

“Hello Front Desk,” I said. Honestly, excited to have something to do. 

“Yeah so the hot water in our room isn’t working,” came a familiar female voice. 

“I’m terribly sorry. What room?” 

“Room 305.” 

My heart sank, I cleared my throat. “I’ll send housekeeping right down to you. It should only be a couple of minutes.” 

The line went dead, and I quickly placed the phone on the receiver and dailed 2 for house keeping. It rang three times before someone finally picked up. 

“Hi Boss,” Andy’s voice rang through the receiver. Andy was the Head of House Keeping. He’d been working with the Motel for a while, Mr.Neman had explained on his tour. Andy sounded like he smoked a pack of cigarette everyday for the last thirty years. But it was endearing how he’d taken to calling me Boss. 

“Andy can you go check the hot water in room 305. They’re saying that there isn’t any.” 

“On it, Boss.” 

“Thank you,” I hung up the phone and leaned back in my chair. It was an old Motel, I reasoned with myself. They weren’t calling me to bother me. 

How wrong I was there, the phone then began to ring every thirty minutes. Each time with a request that ranged from what the wifi was to what time does the small dinning hall close at. Everything that could easily be found in the binders that were located in each room. 

It was 8:59 on the dot. I was counting the second praying that the phone wouldn’t ring. Andy had clocked out at 7 and now it was just me and the guest in the Motel. It shouldn’t have made me feel as sick to my stomach as it did. Mrs.Green would be here sometime around 11 to do the night house keeping shift. But for now it was just me, and I had a sinking feeling that the phone was going to ring. Graham Cracker was sitting at my feet, her massive head was resting in my lap.

Ring ring! 

“Hello Front Desk,” I answered. My voice sounded strained even to my own ears. I already knew that it was Room 305. It at this point was always Room 305 calling me! 

“Do you think you could bring me some towels? We need some more,” Margrets voice rang through the receiver. The clock now read 9:01, I wanted desperately to hang up and pretend that I was off the clock. But the damn phone was already in my hands. 

“I’m sorry, but House Keeping has left for the night,” I told her. 

There was a long pause. 

“We really need those towels. Do you think you could bring them to our room?” 

Graham Cracker whined at my lap, I glanced down at the sweet baby. Drawing in a breath, I gave an answer that I shouldn’t have in response to her question. 

“Of course, I’ll be there in a couple minutes.” 

A delighted peel of laughter rang through the phone. “Thank you so much, Wallacott.” 

I placed the phone back onto the receiver. I’d do this last thing and then I would be done for the evening, and tomorrow was Saturday meaning a well deserved day off. They would have no choice but to deal with House Keeping tomorrow. Then Monday they would be checking out and hopefully out of my hair. 

“Come on, girl. Let’s go give them their towels and then we’ll get ready for bed.” 

Looking back, I think Graham Cracker already knew that this was a bad idea. But as they say dogs are mans best friends. She followed after me, as I quickly went to retrieve the towels from House Keeping. 

Even after the tour that day, and my wandering throughout the day. I still hadn’t visited every area of the Motel. It just seemed to stretch endlessly, the corridors would change every now and again. Almost like the Motel had at one point been a small structure and then had morphed into a bigger one as people build new additions. 

The corridor that held rooms 300 to 320 was towards eastern most side of the motel. It appeared older, the rusty brown carpet had a faded pattern that looked like vines and leaves. The wallpaper at this peeling at parts near the top of the ceiling. The doors were made of solid wood, and there were painting that lined the hallway. 

Some were of nature scene and others were of people. Sometimes they would be portraits of people that were dressed in old fashioned clothes that looked like they had come for a period piece. Other times it was painting of events were the people weren’t in focus. Depicting all sorts of scenes and locations. 

Soon enough we arrived at room 305. The room had silver numbering and a key hole that looked victorian. There were two keyholes, one that was exposed and the other that was covered by a little sheet of embellished metal. 

Balancing the stack of towels on my one arm, I raised the other to knock on the door. It was a crisp sound, and I could hear the shuffling of feet on the other side of the door. 

“Hello, I’ve come to drop off your towels.” I said, after the door didn’t open immediately. I heard more shuffling and then it stopped completely, but I swore it had stopped right at the door. Graham was just behind me, her massive body was radiating heat. 

“I’ll leave them at the door if you’re unavailable.” 

I began to bend down to do just that, when the door opened up just enough for Margrets face to become visible. Her eyes were unfocused and her pupils nearly swallowed her iris. I took a step backwards, but her hand snaked out from the door lighting fast and grabbed my arm. 

Her strength was surprising and she kept me from toppling over Graham. It was then that I noticed her nails were slightly chipped and her hand was covered in something. She quickly withdrew and I brought my attention back to her face. 

Which might have been the wrong move, her face was stretched into a wide unnatural smile. The type where the skin goes tight and you looked deranged, the skin almost seemed to stretch unnaturally thin and taunt around her cheek bones. I felt unease trickle through my body like a slow tap. Every hair on my arm was standing at attention. 

“Here are the towels,” I managed trying my best not to address the elephant in the room. 

“Oh thank you, here let me give you this for the trouble.” She pulled the door back a little, exposing more of herself, her dress was covered in some sort of foul smelling liquid that was a sludgy black. It dripped onto the floor, and I nearly gagged at the smell. My heart going out to the staff that was going to have to clean it up. While thanking my lucky stars it wasn’t me. 

She reached a hand down her dress and pulled out a wad of money. The smile still plastered across her face, she took up most of the doorway. My mind railed at me that something was wrong, and the whining from Graham Cracker echoed that feeling. 

Her head butted into my back as she tried to alert me. Inspecting Margret, I found that her platinum blonde hair was matted in parts with some sort of concoction. Her breath was coming in fast shallow pants as if she was having difficulty breathing. Watching her fingers as they easily maneuvered the money, the chipped nails looked more unnerving. The idea of a person stuck in a small space trying to claw their way out of confinement bubbled to the surface of my mind. 

“Here, think of it as a gift for your hard work,” she held up a hundred dollar bill. It was new, but it was now covered in whatever mystery liquid that Margret was covered in. The hundred dollar was tempting, but she had called it a gift. 

It was expressly stated that gifts were not suppose to be accepted, no matter what it was they offered. I looked at the bill, and then back at Margret whose smile was unnerving. Her face was starting to twitch as if it was becoming fatigued from the sheer force she was using to keep her face contorted into that appearance. 

“Thank you so much. But I’ll have to decline, here are your towel’s. I hope that you and Mr. Atwood have a lovely evening,” I said quickly. I jerked my arm free from her grasp. In turn then shoving the towels towards her, not caring if she caught them or not. 

All I knew was that my instincts were screaming at me to leave. I turned and began to quickly walk away, when a scream rippled out from behind me. My body froze and I found that I couldn’t move, my legs were rooted in spot. Half way through my stride, I wanted to turn my head. But I couldn’t move that either. 

The tangy smell of something rotten fanned at my neck. I felt sweat beading at my hairline as the hair on my arms stood on end. Graham Crackers bark echoed throughout the hallway, it was louder than I thought possible, but I found myself able to move again. It was as if whatever spell was keeping me rooted in place was dispelled at the loud sound. That was good enough for me! 

I didn’t take any chance and practically ran down the hallway refusing to turn back. It wasn’t until I was back at the familiar hallway that held my room that I turned around. What greeted me was Graham Cracker, she was wagging her tail and looking at me expectantly. My pulse was hammering, and sweat ran down my back, even though I felt bone cold. 

Pulling my keys from my pocket, I inserted them into my lock and usher the dog inside. She went without fuss and I cast one last glance at the end of the hallway. Pure terror lanced up my back, as I caught the smiling face of Margret looking at me Her eyes were wild, her neck seemed longer than natural. Her eyes were trained on me, watching and waiting. In that moment, I was a deer in the headlights. Desperate to move, fearful if I did move that she would move to. It could have been me that moved first or her all I know is that I threw myself through the open door. Twisting on my heels, I slammed the door shut finding the lock and twisting it. 

Backing away from the door, I trained my eyes on it. Ready for anything, but nothing happened. I waited what felt like hours, but was probably closer to minutes. A shadow appeared at my door, and I nearly screamed. It lingered for a moment, and then I saw a hand as the bottom of the door. Something was pushed with enough force that I heard a finger pop out of socket as the item made its way into view.

The one hundred dollar bill slide through the crack at the bottom of the door into my room. Pulling her hand back, she retreated after a moment, I heard the footsteps as they walked away. But they didn’t sound natural, it sounded like she was walking on all fours, don’t ask me how I know. I just know! 

I collapsed onto the ground after I was sure she was gone. Graham Cracker walked to the hundred dollar bill and gave it a sniff before she growled at it. Her massive paw coming down to swipe at it. I expected the bill to tear, but it didn’t so much as crinkle as she pawed at it. 

Listen, I get it, everyone runs into strange customers. If it was any other couple, I might attribute the strange behavior to drugs. But I found black hand prints on the back of my jacket, sticky tar like substance that smelled ungodly awful. Not to mention, where her hands at touched my jacket, my skin had red welted hand prints on it.

Plus where she grabbed my wrist, the black stuff was on my skin. I’ve taken three showers and it finally came off after the third one, but the skin is red and angry almost like a rash. Similar but worse to the two hand prints on my back. But she didn’t even make skin to skin contact there! 

I’ve barricaded the door, and Graham Cracker has taken up residence in front of my barricade. My bathroom is my makeshift bed for tonight, because there aren’t any windows here. I swear I heard scrapping at my bedroom window not too long after she left.  

The plan for the morning is to burn the bill. If I burn it, I don’t think it will count as me accepting a gift. In the first place she the one that forced it onto me, I never agreed to it and I sure as hell didn’t accept it. 

I’ll let you know if something happens, for now wish me luck getting some sleep in the tub.

The people are vanishing and they’re not being remembered. I’m the only person that seems to remember them in the first place. It starting to get weird and I just don’t know where else to seek help than here.

I’ll give some context to where I live and maybe that will shed some light onto the situation. Or at least all the light that I’ve gathered thus far. Ever since I can remember, my parents had been worried about the end of the world and the break down of society as we know it. To the point on my eighth birthday they had sprung the news that we were moving to a survivalist compound. My stable life that was filled with friends, school and the typical childhood of any regular family were uprooted over night.

My parents had sold all our belongings, and had made the trip to the compound. I can’t give you an exact location as I don’t even completely know the exact location either. Heck, I’m writing this on an old laptop that I found in one of the missing people house. I didn’t steal it, because as far as Mrs. Gwaltney was concerned her adult son had never existed. She didn’t even blink when I had commandeered the old bag and a few other things from the room.

My life inside the compound had been a staggering twelve years. Unlike a lot of the kids that were around my age, they had never left the compounds or the large mountainside that we resided in. To them this living out here as recluses’ completely detached from the outside world was perfectly normal. I had always considered leaving and venturing out into the world, but what skills did I have to offer?

Fire arm proficiency, skilled at archery, skinning animals and other survival skills! The only option I could see forward was a wildlife survival guide, but I don’t want to be out in the woods anymore.

I’m sorry I’m rambling, but I had grown close to the people inside of the community. It was my hobby and pastimes to get to know new members and old members alike. They all were different and unique and it was an easy way to get out of ‘intensive training.’ Either way, I can’t remember the first time someone had vanished, but I do remember the day that I noticed that people were gone. Poofed out of peoples memories as if they were nothing but a figment of my imagination.

I’d learned the hard way when I had raised a fuss when I noticed my best friends was missing. Tabitha, or Tab for short, she was one of the kids that I had grown up with. Even though Tab had been born on the compound, she was a curious soul and someone that I could confide in. Just like the three other people now that had gone missing, no one blinks an eye! It’s as if they’re nothing more than a figment of my own imagination.

The looks I’m getting are enough to make me feel like I’m losing my mind. But I’m going to get to the bottom of it, I owe it to Tab to find out the truth. For now I’ve been collecting things from those that have vanished.

Let me start from the day that Tab vanished. If I retrace the day, maybe, we’ll be able to figure something out!

It was a humid day, early July, the sun was just peaking over the far mountain top. I had climbed up to the roof of my house and was watching the sunrise. The community hadn’t completely woken up, but from my vantage point, I could see a few people moving about.

They were the community typically early risers, Mr.Jones, Margret, the twins, and Mother Isabella. Each of them heading off to do their jobs: Mr.Jones managed the electricity for the community, the twins were his apprentices. Meanwhile, Margret was off to get breakfast prepared, today was communion day. Meaning that the whole community would gather for breakfast, and then morning mass as held by Mother Isabella. She and her husband the late Father Mark had established the community. Building it from four families into a massive town with probably close to two hundred people residing on the mountain side. Bitting on the jerky that I had taken from the pantry, I happened to catch the eyes of Mother Isabella.

Her golden hazel eyes swung upwards to meet mine, a shudder ran down my back, it was uncanny how she always seemed to notice me. Mother Isabella’s mouth stretched into a warm smile, it even reached all the way to her eyes. Her full mouth was spread in a dazzling smile, I felt my heart pound in my chest a little faster.

She had been young when I had arrived twelve years ago, probably no older than nineteen and she had been married to the late Father, who had to be well into his late fifties. It had always seemed strange that they were a married couple, especially given the fact that Mother Isabella didn’t seem to care for her husband.

To outside eyes she was as pious a wife as one could get. But I remember catching her laughing after his funeral last summer. He’d pass away due to some disease, my parents had whispered about cancer in the thyroid. About it being too far gone to do anything about.

Mother Isabella had thought she was alone, but I’d seen her behind the recreation shed, her beautiful face wasn’t a mask of sadness as it had been earlier during the ceremony. No, she’d been laughing and smiling as she cursed his name! I had been so startled, I knocked over a bucket as her piercing eyes had found me. Relief flooded them the minute she saw it was me. Even now her words echoed in my head.

“Winnie,” my name sounded like a prayer on her lips. “You wouldn’t tell anyone about this would you?” She tilted her head, letting the caramel brown locks of hair slide over her shoulder. It whispered across her face almost like a lover caress.

My mouth felt like lead, I didn’t know how to respond. Once I understood the massive age difference between the two of them I’d been grossed out. But I couldn’t speak about it, I’d asked my parents about it and my Father had flown into a massive speech. While my Mother just sat there and nodded her head like a wooden doll. That had been the last time I voiced my thoughts to them. I gave Mother Isabella a curt nod and she kept beaming. Moving towards me she had gently cup my cheek and given me a light kiss on the forehead.

“It’ll be our little secret,” her breath was sweet like flowers, the scent seemed to wrap itself around me. It had made my stomach swim. Ever since then my eyes had followed her, she had become the defecto leader of the community. Father Mark had been its leader, but now that I watched everyone. She had always been the leader, her husband had just been the figure head.

Bitting my finger, I couldn’t help but break eye contact with her first. Standing I stretched my back as I gathered my notebook into my backpack. Double checking that I had my trusty knife in my boot, I patted my hip and found the other one as well. Opening the smaller zipper on my backpack, I saw it there sitting like a rock inside the bag. A gun, it’s not something that you suppose to carry inside the compound, unless you were part of the peacekeepers.

I could get into some serious trouble for keeping it on my person. But I was a rule breaker, always had been, I think it disappointed my parents, but there wasn’t much they could do. Everyone in the community viewed me as a helpful daughter, sister or friend. One had to keep up illusions if you wanted to subvert a close knit community. Plus my own parents even if they were mildly disappointed in me, weren’t the type to invite criticism onto themselves.

Clambering down the safety latter that went down from the three story home that I lived in. I hit the ground with a soft thump, the ground here on the side of the house wasn’t paved. The main streets and those that lead to the front entrance and back entrance of the compound were all paved. The pathways that lead to the houses were outlined with stone.

Glancing at the front of the driveway, I noticed that the jeep that normally resided there was nowhere to be seen. It looks like Dad had taken it out, maybe, on an assignment from Mother Isabella and the council. Rolling my eyes, I just moved onwards looking left and right down the small alleyway that separated the houses. I quickly moved between the houses, slowly but surely the lights from the other houses began to click on. People were waking, and soon we’d all be expected at mass.

Making a sharp left I arrived at the back of Tab’s houses. My eyes roved the backyard looking for her, but she wasn’t outside. Normally, I’d arrive to find her in her hammock, her trusty brown beaten notebook open and her scrawling her thoughts inside of it. Reaching up, I undid the latch to the fence that was around her backyard. Moving swiftly forward, I didn’t move to the back door that was washed in light, the sound of humming floating in the air.

It had to be Tab’s Mother, Monica, she was always humming something. Not wasting anymore time, I ran to the ladder that was also attached to the side of Tab’s house. It wasn’t as well kept as my family’s ladder, that was in part because Tab’s family’s house was older. The house had sprawling ivy that climbed upwards and moss that had started to grow in other places. The shudders on the windows were a faded red that was closer to a dirt auburn from years of the elements abusing it.

I easily scaled the ladder reaching the secondary floor without issue, I reached up and rapped my knuckles across of Tab’s window. Sometimes she stayed up too late and didn’t get to sleep till early, I figured this much be the case.

Knock Knock Knock.

The rasp of my knuckles was quick and concise. I didn’t want to alert Monica that I was here. Even if most people liked me in the community, Monica always thought that I might be a bad influence on her daughter. Given the fact that I was born on the outside.

“Tab! Wake up,” I half whispered half yelled as I knocked. Her curtains were drawn and I tried rattling the window. Trying to draw it upwards, but it was locked. Tab rarely locked her windows, heck, no one really locked the windows in the community. Most people didn’t even bother with lockings the doors, everyone here was in some weird way family.

There was no crime, well crime that was punishable with jail time. Given anything that involved a close knit community that was secluded there were lose with problems. I’m sure you can understand the meaning of that!

“Tabitha, I know you don’t sleep that deeply. Wake up and let me in! Your Mom is going to see me and throw a fit!” I pressed, leaning in close to the glass, straining my ears to see if I could hear her laughing.

But there was nothing, leaning back, I reach for the knife that was on my hip. It was the first knife that my Father had given to me. It was also the first gift that I had received here in the community, he insisted that it was important for me to become accustomed to using a blade.

A KA-BAR not any old one either, but one that my Grand Father had owned, and then passed down to my Father and then to me. It was metliciously cared for and a good companion for many situations. Slipping the blade underneath the worn wood of the window frame, I began to wiggle it forward until I felt the latch. Smiling I pushed it forward and heard the click as the knife flipped the lock.

Not wasting anytime, I palmed the window frame and dragged it upwards. It went without fuss and the room of my best friend came into sight. Her messy room full of paper and pencils, along with other arts and crafts that were clumsily placed throughout the room. My eyes quickly jumped to her bed, but when they landed, I found that the bed was empty. The covers weren’t even ruffled, it didn’t appear as if the bed had even been slept in.

“Tab,” I called in a hushed whisper. Trying to not be to loud, but loud enough that if she was in the room she would be able to hear me. I waited for a few beats, but no response came, not even a maker or pen falling from her trying to keep up the game.

I frowned, quickly I pulled the window down and scampered back down the ladder. Not wasting anytime I marched to the back door, I could still hear Monica humming away. As I climbed the stairs up the back porch. Monica came into focus, she was drinking a cup of tea while flipping through a book. Her long salt and pepper colored hair was held loosely together in a braids. Sucking in a deep breath I rasped my knuckles across the glass. Turning she tilted her head to look at me for a moment before she stood up. Pulling the sliding door back she regarded me.

“Hi, I’m sorry it’s so early but is Tabitha here?”

“Tabitha?” Monica questions.

“She was suppose to meet me. We had some things that we needed to take care of before morning mass,” I quickly explained. All the while lying through my teeth. Yes, we had plans but it wasn’t something that I would ever tell her Mother. Normally, it was apologizing for being out late and not explaining why that had happened.

“Winnie, honey are you feeling alright?” Monica asked me. Her voice was strange almost kind as if she was worried about me. I blinked before nodding my head.

"Yeah, I feel great. So is Tabitha in the bathroom or did she leave with Lake?” I asked, again, trying to stay on topic.

Monica blinked slowly at me, as if I was asking her a hard question. Her whole body language read as if she was debating on whether she should call someone for help. I smiled trying to be as polite as possible in case Tab was in some real hot water with her Mother.

“Who are you talking about?”

I blinked looking at Monica who wore an expression that was dead serious. In the first place she wasn’t the type to jokes like this, and secondly she was giving me that smile. You know the one that you give to someone who’s a little slow on the uptake and that you think is crazy!

Maybe, she had gotten a little stronger supplement from the Doc? I tried again this time explaining who Tabitha was to her.

“Tabitha your daughter. She looks more like her Father than you. You both have a bit of a tough love Mother Daughter relationship.”

“Winnie do you want me to have Lake take you to see Doc? You haven’t been climbing again have you? Remember he said that you should be careful concussion can be really nasty,” she said softly. Talking to me as if I’m a wounded animal.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to take you? How could you not know who I’m talking about?!” I said, finding that I was starting to get annoyed.

“Lake?” Monica called, turning her head to me as she called for Tabitha’s older brother.

“Are we seriously doing this right now?” I asked. Venom leaking into my words. This was ridiculous, I had half the mind to tell her off and leave. I’d just go and check our normal hang out spots to see if Tabitha was there!

She ignored my question. Her face was a mask of fake kindness. Uncomfortable was the word that I would use as we stood there the question lingering in the air like a bad scent. The sound of pounding footfalls could be heard as he came down the stairs. Then appearing not even a minute after his mom had yelled for him, came the golden child. The pride and joy of Tab’s family, Lake her older brother.

“Winnie?” He asked as he looked over his Mother’s shoulders. Lake was tall and handsome if you were into that sort of thing. He had chestnut colored hair that had natural highlights and he was the best at nearly everything. We’d also briefly dated, and it had ended less than cordial.

I shook my head and took a step back from the two of them. This was crazy and frankly not something that I had expected from Monica. I knew that she didn’t like me, but this was odd acting as if she didn’t know who I was talking about. Did she think Lake would go along with her little joke?

“Lake. Where is Tabitha?”

He blinked slowly at me, his eyes glassing over, before he seemed to come back to reality. A look of pure confusion on his face.

“Who’s Tabitha?” He asked. My stomach dropped through the floor, he had the same confused and concerned expression as Monica. It was as if they didn’t know who I was talking about.

“Stop joking around! Tabitha as in your sister!” I said. Completely exasperated as I took another step back. He stepped in front of his Mom, concern for me now coloring his face.

“Winnie. There no one here named Tabitha, and a sister you know that I don’t have any siblings.” He reached a hand out and tried to touch my shoulder. Another shudder ran up my spine as I dodged his hands.

“Only child?” I nearly stuttered.

“Of course, it’s why we got along so well,” he said rather sheepishly. My mouth went dry as the gears in my head turned sharply. Lake truly believed that he was an only child. I turned to look at Monica. My stomach swam as I tired not to be sick. The same look was on her face.

“This isn’t funny! If you’re playing a joke on me, I really need you to stop now. What about her room up stairs? Can you explain why you have a room full of girls clothes up stairs?” I snapped. Feeling the thin strand of sanity that I had.

He held my stare, his eyes searching mine. After not finding what he was apparently looking for he released a breath. Retracting his hand he rubbed his neck as if he was trying to think through this as well.

“Mom, why don’t you call Winnie’s parents.” He was still looking at me. Looking at me as if I was the crazy one talking about his sister, my best friend, as if she didn’t exist in the first place.

“Okay,” Monica said quietly. Almost a whisper as she turned away from us and headed into the house.

“I’m not crazy! You have a sister named Tabitha. Who is two year younger than you, and loves to read and write. You’d always make fun of her and she absolutely hated it when we started dating a year ago. She baked me a cake for breaking up with you!” My mouth moved before my brain, dumping out information anything that I could think of would jog his memory.

He stared at me blankly almost pitifully.

“Don’t look at me like that!” I screamed. It was loud to my own ears. He winced at my tone, but held up his hands in almost defeat.

“Fine, let’s go look at the room then,” he acquiesced.

We ascended the stairs. I noticed that the family pictures in there frames only held three people in the picture. My mouth went dry at that. Tabitha wasn’t there, it was as if the pictures had been taken without her.

The walk upstairs was quiet and the rising dread bubbled up in my stomach. It felt like I was walking towards a grave rather than a room. Lake’s form was tall and blocked most of my vision as we made our way. But we arrived at the room, and he pushed the door open.

A breath left my mouth before I could stifle it. The room was devoid of Tab’s things. There were a few boxes and a bed that was stripped of all personality. How was this even possible?! I was just knocking at her window with everything inside. Reality slapped me in the face as I took it in, it was as if she had never been here! Lake stepped aside giving me a better view, but I thought I might be sick.

“It’s an empty storage room. Be honest with me did you take something?” He asked, voice low as he turned to look down at me.

My body shook as I tried to wrap my head around this reality. But I couldn’t accept it, I wouldn’t accept it. My friend was real, but her own family didn’t remember her.

“Win,” he begged his tone cajoling like one would coax a child with. There would be none of this! I had to go, no, I needed to get out. Turning I moved towards the stairs, picking up speed as I went. He was behind me his voice ringing out.

Words were just sounds as the roar of my own thoughts came crashing over me. I thought about leaving through the back door but then I’d come across Monica. Reaching the end of the stairs I threw open the door and quickly raced out of the house. Lake followed me for a bit but then gave up, I was fast and when I didn’t want to be caught I was even faster. I skipped morning mass, and hid out in our secret tree house.

It was something that we had put together over the years. Climbing the ladder, I threw open the make shift door and there was no one in there. My heart sank, but I noticed the Polaroid’s that we’d taken. Tab had begged her Father to get the simple camera and he’d finally did. Reaching out I yanked one of the pictures from the wall. She was still in the Polaroids!

My heart hammered in my chest as the face of my smiling best friend came into focus. Tears ran down my cheeks, I sat there for a while holding the photo’s collecting them all from the walls. Whatever had gotten to her house, and their pictures hadn’t managed to get here. It was only me and Tab who knew about our secret spot.

I’d collected all the pictures and scribbling and hid them in my backpack. The sun was starting to set, when I finally decided to make my way back to the compound. I sunk in through a hole in the wall by the western entrance. That night my Father had scolded me something fierce about making a scene. While my Mother just sat on and watched the whole thing.

When I’d asked them if they remembered Tabitha, their expressions had gone slack, almost like a chicken that had stunned itself. But their response had been nearly identical to Tab’s family.

“Winnie are you sick? You don’t have a friend named Tabitha,” Dad said matter of factly. He’d shaken his head, glancing at my Mother who also looked confused.

“I’m not sick, none of you seem to remember her!” I snapped.

“Wilhelmina,” he snapped. “Don’t take that tone with me.”

I snapped my mouth shut. He rubbed the spot between his eyebrows, his salt and pepper hair looked unruly. He exhaled, and fixed me with his eyes, they were hard as he spoke. Although, I can’t remember a time in recent history where he hasn’t looked at me with the disapproving stare.

“Go upstairs, I have enough to deal with already. The last thing I need is you causing made up drama.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but he shot me a stare that made me close my mouth. I’d almost been tempted to show him the pictures, to prove a point that I wasn’t sick or crazy or anything else he was thinking. But I’d decided against that, the reality of my situation dawning on me. If her own family can’t remember her, then mine surely wouldn’t be any better.

I’d gone upstairs and that night I hadn’t slept. Honestly most night since that night I hadn’t really slept. Fear was my fuel as I thought about being snatched up in the night. In those half sleep deprived and half manic nights I had come up with a plan. I’d pretended that what happened that day was from a concussion, and that I hadn’t been in my right mind.

The lie was bitter on my tongue, but it had done its job. Everyone had accepted it. But others started to vanish, I’d begun keeping a registry of everyone that was in the compound. Keeping a date by everyone that had vanished and the last time I had seen them. It was hard because when I’d snuck into the office, to get the official town registry it was altered. Not like someone had taken a pen and scratched through peoples names. They were completely erased as if they hadn’t been there to start with. Plus, everyone been acting strange, there more morning masses and people are moving around more in the evenings.

I plan to investigate more around the compound and try to figure out what happening to everyone. This is a documentation that I exist, in case, I get removed from everyone’s memories! But for now I plan to investigate some tunnels, I found the other day outside the compound. I’d found some tracks that lead into them. I’ll let you know what I find when I get back.

Let me start with I realize that maybe I should have been alarmed at accepting a job at a Motel in this day and age. Motels in the first place are not the prim and proper hotel management job that I had envisioned for myself after completing my degree. Like every twenty-five year old that had spent the greater part of their college experience partying and getting absolutely shit faced.

I had gotten a rude awakening after graduating that it was all over, the sorority girl that had aspirations of becoming a chic hotel manager in Paris, fizzled quicker than a flat soda. All and all, I suppose it could have been far worse! Everything considered I had landed a job at least.

Even if the job took me out to the middle of nowhere… at least nowhere paid. To be honest up until about a month ago, I had been surfing the internet and trying my best to become a viable applicant. It was not going stellar, but finally in the middle of the night after watching far too much reality tv and eating a bag of Twizzlers. It arrived… the email that brought me to my current place that I called home/work.

Actually, I even have the email saved just to show you all how odd it is, bear with me as I copy and paste it to the post for your reading delight.

Hello Ms.Wallacott,

We at the Motel **** are reaching out about a position at our establishment. It’s come to our attention that you are seeking full time employment; and have a degree in hospitality. Your credentials are suitable for our needs and we’re curious if you’d be open for a phone interview.

The details of the job, along with the salary can be discussed then. We’ll be waiting to hear from you!

May the Light be with you,
**** Neman.
Owner of the Motel ****.
(6**)*757***

Please understand, I omitted the number for y'all sake. You have to understand that it’s best if you don’t know the name or phone number of the Motel. It’ll be safer that way, at least I think it’ll be safer that way.

Now I had at that point been desperate for a job. Most of the ones that I had interviewed for were crap and didn’t want to pay me for my qualifications, which hey I understood it was the economy, it was something or another. Well fine but I couldn’t survive off of what they were paying, so I decided to call the man, Mr.Neman. The worst that happened it was a prank, or the pay was horrible or the job was undoable. Positives being that I got a job and could afford to pay back some loans that were knocking on past due.

So I did what any college graduate who needed a job does… I called.

Ring, ring. Two rings and I heard the receiver pick up and I waited.

“Hello,” an older man’s voice sounded through the receiver.

“Good afternoon. I’m Wallacott. You sent me an email about a position at your Motel.” I said, halfway holding my breath as I waited for the punchline or answer.

Because to be honest, I really didn’t think that this was a serious job inquiry. More likely an elaborate prank by someone bored or one of my sorority sisters.

“Of course, Ms. Wallacott!” The old man’s voice took on a lighter tone. Evidently pleased by my call. “Delightful of you to call. I’m Mr.Neman. The owner of the Motel ****.” His raspy voice was becoming less jarring and more jovial by the second.

“Yes, thank you again for reaching out to me first.”

“Of course, your credentials make you a very promising candidate. Not to mention I have an eye for people,” he continued.

There was a slight pause on my part and his, it seemed that he had made a joke. But as far as interviewing went it was a bit odd, then again, based on his age. He was probably well into his later years. Different generation had far different metrics in terms of what they viewed as appropriate in the work place.

Not losing speed he continued on. “There would be a sign on bonus and then a very competitive salary for you. I’m getting too old to manage the Motel‘s daily activities and guest welcoming. You wouldn’t be expected to preform any of the cleaning services or laundry, but I would like you to manage the accounting, ordering of supplies and management of staff. The position itself is a live in, you’d be expected to stay on the Motel’s premise.”

There was a pause and I scrambled to grab my planner. Flipping to the note section of the planner, I quickly jotted down the information.

"Did you happen to do some research on our establishment?"

"A little bit, but there wasn't much information to be found. I hoped that you would be able to shed some light on the specifics?"

"The Motel is a little known spot. It's not surprising. We've been established since the late 1880's. It’s been in the family since then, and we have been servicing the area since that time. It’s honestly a beautiful part of the country, you'll be up in the PNW." He said, his voice radiating warmth.

My hand stilled, that was one of the factors that I hadn’t completely mulled over. I was located on the East Coast, and I had to head all the way to the West Coast. Leaving everything and everyone that I knew. But at the same time, this was the first job that actually left me in charge of a property rather than being at the beck and call of someone else. So, after continuing the phonecall with the old man, Mr.Neman, and getting more specifics on the requirement and the salary and sign on bonus. I found myself calling my parents and letting them know that I had gotten a job. Also, telling them that I had to move and that it was to the other side of the country.

They had been supportive and told me that they were proud of me, and I found that I was happy about it all. Packing and moving took a lot less time that I had expected. I managed to pack everything in a week, my whole life sealed up tidily in a week of packing.

Mr.Neman had sent over a welcome package via email. That had detailed out a list of specifics that I was to follow. Along with rules, that was typical of any job, there were always going to be rules that they wanted you to follow.

But these were on a different level of 'odd.' These are the rules as listed to me:

1. Never follow a Guest into their room. Contact housekeeping if they need help.

2. Be sure to never tell the guest your first name. They should refer to you simply by your surname.

3. Always keep the key ring on your person as you move about the motel. It’s best if they are kept on silver chain and either tucked into your pocket and fastened to a belt loop. If you’ve choose to wear a skirt or a dress for the day, they should be attached to a silver ring that can be worn as a bracelet.

4. The Motel **** has a long history of a mascot. The current mascot for the hotel is Graham Cracker, a Great Dane. She has been trained to accompany you throughout the hotel. Please make sure that you have treats on your personage for her. (These treats are provided by the Motel.)

5. Remember to promptly shut the doors of reception at 9 pm. They are to be opened promptly at 8 am. (Monday-Friday) No guest should be allowed entrance after close or before opening to check into the Motel.

6. Do not accept gifts from the guest. Under any circumstances!

I had looked them over multiple times, both when I had first gotten the email and then throughout the flights. I tried to find some reason for them. I understood the specific check in times, and stay on schedule. Along with the other nuanced rule about keeping Graham Cracker happy and accompanying me. That was not a problem, I loved dogs and the fact that I was to be accompanied by one was a bonus.

But still as I read and re-read them, I felt an odd sense of dissonance. However, I still found myself navigating my way to the Motel. Seeing as I was heading out to a relatively small town, that was located deep into the woods, I had a limited choice of transportation. However, that was also clarified in my welcome package.

As I stepped off the second plane, I arrived at the small local airport. I was greeted with a sign that had my name on it, being held by a rather round woman. Now please understand, I’m not judging her by any means. It’s just the best way to describe my initial observation of, Hilda. She was a hearty, round woman, with shock white hair and a lopsided smile that reminded me of a kid that always had a joke brewing on their tongue.

Hilda, wore a simple outfit that was rather homely but suited her just fine. The simple dress paired with a jacket that was rather fluffy given the weather. Not to mention the muck boots that were paired with long brown wool socks.

“Hello,” I said softly.

She looked up at me. It was then that I noted her one lazy eye that was also a foggy grey, while her other eye was a light blue. I tried not to stare, which was easy enough because she was looking me up and down.

This continued for a minute or so, then she finally return my stare. Her good eye piercing as she began to smile, half her lip pulling up into a rather menacing grin at first.

“Welcome dear to Pine Hallow. How was your flight?”

“It was good, not to much turbulence.”

She nodded her approval, then she extended her hand. I looked down at it before taking it with my own, her hand shake was firm and resolute. A stark contrast to her appearance, but it felt normal enough.

“You can call me Hilda. I’m a long time friend of Mr.Neman and the owner of the grocery store in town,” she explained easily.

“Pleasure to meet you Hilda, and thank you for coming to pick me up! I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.”

“Don’t worry about it. I had some things I had to pick up and there aren’t many people that come and go from the town. If they do they’re mainly guest of Mr.Nemans establishment. We can’t have you catching a ride with them now.” She chuckled, releasing my hand as she went to pat my shoulder.

Her hand had felt like ice from the handshake alone, once it touched my shoulder it felt like my entire arm was going numb. She didn't let it linger for too long, but it was enough that I mentally noted that I shouldn't casual let her touch me. Withdrawing her hand, she tucked the small sign that she had under her arm and lead me towards the small baggage claim.

The whole airpot was quiet, eerily quiet, I tried to not let it bother me. However, it was hard to not notice, the flight I had been on had less than ten people. One flight attendant and two pilots, leaving only seven people actually flying into the airport. Each was odd, and I saw them lined up around the simple, yet, archaic baggage claim!

Hilda’s hand touched me yet again, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Turning I found the round woman was trying to get my attention.

“I’ll be over there, I’ve got to collect my boxes and have them loaded onto the truck. You can’t miss me, Dear,” she explained. All the while pointing towards the double doors that lead out into the overcast outdoors. There was a man standing at the door, dressed in some dirty overalls, along with a bright orange safety vest that was overtop of a warm, but worn jacket. He had a wide set stance and was looking over at Hilda with expectant eyes.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, and feeling moderately abandoned by Hilda. Even though I knew she wasn’t my tour guide, the squat and round woman knew me. Knew that I was here to work for her friend, but she knew… for some reason that had felt important in the moment.

Still ever icy, I raised a hand to pat hers before she drew it away. “Okay, I’ll find you once I get my bags.”

She gave me a lopsided grin and then made her way over to the man without another word. I had to give it to the old gal, she moved quickly. Easily covering the distance. Hilda paused, said something to the man and then they both left the baggage claim area.

Now it was me all alone with the seven other people from my flight. Taking a deep breath, I made my way over towards the baggage claim. I had already shipped some other things directly to the motel. But I still had brought two suitcases and a carriage on and bag. There was no way that I could part with all my things, nor did I have any intention of putting them into a storage container.

The idea of locking my stuff up hadn’t sat well with me. I had opted only to get a storage container for the big stuff. But at the moment, I wished that I had packed lighter and could remove myself from these odd people. Standing apart from the group, I surveyed them.

Coming up with ideas about them, the oddest was a girl that looked even more out of place than me. She was standing next to a man that was dressed head to toe in black. Black suit, paired with an even darker black bow tie. He was wearing black framed sunglasses and his hair was slicked back, his age was hard to tell, but he had to be at least a good ten years older than the girl.

She was dressed head to toe in what could only be best described as a clubbing outfit. Her short black dress barely covered her butt, she was standing in pin point thin red stilettos. Her bleach blonde hair styled in an updo that displayed her very surgically done face.

She was smiling as she took a video of the two of them. The man looking as if he couldn’t care less about it all, but still he was being a good sport and allowing her to take the video.

Her head whipped around and we made direct eye contact, and I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach at the contact. But she gave me a beaming smile and a light wave, before she continued to record. Exhaling, I tried to quell the unease, but I locked eyes with another passenger.

It was a younger boy that was standing next to an older woman. Who I assumed was his grandmother, or maybe, his mother? She both appeared older, but relatively young enough to maybe have a child of about ten or so.

The boy had an intensity to him that turned my stomach, more than the girl. He seemed small for his age, but his eyes held mine without flinching. You know that spine tingling, prickling sensation that crawls up your skin. The last vestige of our reptilian brain, that tells us when we’re endanger?

That’s what I felt as I looked into the mismatched hazel and black eyes of the boy!

I broke eye contact first, as the rickety sound of the baggage claim rumbled to life. Blessed by the luggage gods themselves! My bags were the first that the ancient machine spat out, quickly moving forward, I grabbed the two suitcase from the luggage rack. The black bags, thankfully looked intact, and the locks that I had secured to them untampered with.

Ducking my head, I made my way towards the doors that Hilda had vanished out of all the while feeling eyes bore into my back. The crisp air seemed to whisper across my skin as I exited, it was chilly to say the least. I had dressed warmly anticipating it, but the cold was new and I wasn’t quite sure I’d warm to it as I had been assured by Mr.Neman.

At the very least the brisk air had driven away the stifling feelings of the eyes. I felt sick at the thought of being around those people for any longer, call it a gut feeling, but something was off with them.

I found Hilda quickly, it wasn’t hard she had a big truck parked outside the small airport area. The man that she had followed was still chatting with her, he had a clipboard in hand and was making some notes. Before handing it to Hilda. She took it and signed it without fuss.

She looked up after she handed it back to the man, her eyes cutting towards me. As if she knew that I was standing there, she gave me another one of her lopsided grins, as the man turned his head to look in the direction she was looking. He seemed a man of few words, he tilted his head to me. Then made his way back towards the airport, but he moved towards a different entrance, one that appeared to be set aside for staff. Even if the airport was measly in size, the still had an employee’s only entrance that had to count for something.

I made my way to Hilda, who was already lifting the back of the truck door. Peering inside, I noticed all the boxes that had different labels some said produce and so on and so forth. She reached out and took one of the suitcase handles and easily lifted it up and into the bed of the truck. Then she grabbed the other, I quickly grabbed the smallest one feeling rather bad that I had let her do all that lifting.

“That everything?” She asked, as I placed the small suitcase next to the other two.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Good then let’s set off. We don’t want to keep the staff waiting too long, because it’s Saturday there wouldn’t be any check in’s. But the house keeping staff is bare bones, and it’ll give you some time to settle in.” She explained brightly.

“Did you work at the motel?” I asked, before I could stop to consider my words. My curiosity getting the better of me.

She paused but then threw a glance over her shoulder at me. “I’d say helped out rather than worked,” she laughed. Before continuing forward, and heading towards the front of the truck. Casting a final glance back towards the airport, there was a tugging feeling in the pit of my stomach. As if something was telling me to head back, but the allure of job stability made me swallow that fear and get into the truck.

The truck rumbled to life as Hilda twisted the key into the ignition. A steady rattling started as the heat began to sputter to life, it seemed like it wasn’t going to but then it gave another rattling cough and the soft steady waves of heat began radiating from the vents. I leaned back into the seat finding the seat belt and quickly buckling myself in. Hilda did the same as she locked hers into place and began to ease the truck forward as we made our way around the loop.As we drove past the airport, I noticed that the few people that had been on the airplane with me were trickling outside. They all looked up at us as we drove past them, I found myself instinctively raising my hand to wave. There was something eerie about the way they all stood there without blinking watching me. Swallowing my fear, I noticed that the little boy was the only one that was waving back at me and giving me a wide smile.

A pang of nerves shot through my stomach and I quickly lowered my hand and pressed my head into the back of the headrest. Refusing to keep looking at the sight.

“Are you cold dearie?” Hilda asked. Her voice drew me out of my thoughts and I turned my eyes towards the woman. There was something nagging about her as well, but I was just glad that we were making our way to the Motel. Away from the people at the airport. I just needed to settle in and I’m sure the nerves would go away.

“Probably,” I murmured to the woman. She nodded her head and then reached up with one of her hands and pushed the vent that was fanning her with the delicious heat towards me. The extra heat did relax me some and I nuzzled slightly deeper into my jacket.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, I can’t have you freezing before you get to your post. It would be a shame to lose you when you’ve already come this far.” She said jovially.

Although, her words were odd and I was feeling overwhelmed I tried not to think about it. Pulling out my phone from my purse, I took it off airplane mode and sent a quick message to my Mother letting her know that I had made it safely to through my second flight. The message had taken a moment to send, the message spun as if it was trying to send before it gave me the error that it was undeliverable. Looking at my bars I noticed that I didn’t have a single one. I’m only able to even write this because I’m attached to the Motel’s Ethernet line.

Tucking the phone back into my purse, I tried to settle in for the drive and between the steady rumbling of the truck and the bone numbing heat that seemed to seep into my lethargic muscles, I don’t even remember falling asleep. But at some point I must have because the next thing that I heard was the high pitched whine of the air breaks startled me to alertness!

Whipping up, I hastily turned my head every which way. Blinking rapidly trying to will the sleep from my eyes, everything came back into focus slowly. The steady hum of the truck is what I registered first, as the lights from the well lite street nearly blinded my shell shocked eyeballs. Looking to my left I found that I was still next to Hilda. Her face brought a profound sense of relief as the reality of my situation came to fruition. I had chosen to leave everything that I knew and was comfortable with to come to this remote motel! A sigh of relief left my mouth as I swallowed down my anxiety. Hilda grinned at me exposing her pearly white teeth, it caught me off guard how clean and pristine they were. She reached out and patted my arm, the warmth of the truck did nothing to prevent the icy shock of her touch. It felt like I had come in contact with a freezer.

“Welcome to the Motel,” Hilda said rather gleefully as she twisted the key from the ignition. My eyes finally adjusted to the bewildering light took in the Motel. The picture on google hadn’t done it justice, I had expected a run show nearly dilapidated hole in the wall. What greeted me was anything but that!

The light that had nearly blinded me gave way to a massive structure that was the Motel. It was long but also tall, it sported a two story entrance house, or lodge might have been more accurate. It was wooden but it looked sturdy. Rich undertones of umber and amber glinted in the dark wooden logs that made up the structure. Two huge wooden doors that had carvings that were nearly too delicate to see from my vantage point inside of the truck. Each door had been fitted with a window that was nearly half of the doors. Within the wooden logs, I could make out neat windows that were across the front side.

Stretching out from behind the main structure were long corridors that seem to connect from the sides of the main house. Those were a mixture of other material outside of the wood. There were windows that lined the walls of the motel. Similar to the main structure it was three stories high, meaning that it was the typical single level Motels. It was more akin to a nature lodge the more I looked at it. My stomach did a little flip as I noticed from the far left a window that had a pair of burning red eyes that were staring at me. I nearly jumped in the chair, quickly averting my eyes and then looking back. Confusion colored my mind as the vivid eyes were no where to be seen anymore. Sucking in a deep breath, I banished away the unsettling feeling that bubbled in the pit of my stomach.

“Let’s get you inside, it took a little longer than I anticipated. We’ve arrived a little behind schedule,” Hilda said, her voice showing a hit of something.

She quickly opened the door and scurried around the side of the truck. I followed suit a little slower as I stretched my neck, preparing myself for the cold wind. Mustering up courage, I threw open the door, an icy gale slapped my right across the face. A full body shiver raked through me, drawing my bag close. I quickly circled around the truck, just noticing that I was truly out in the middle of nowhere. The sole source of light was the Motel that was glittering with lights and stood almost as a beacon against the inky backdrop of the forest.

Hilda had already gotten all three suitcase from the back and was half way to the entrance as I was just coming up to the suitcase she had left for me. Her stout form was bathed by the light, she cast a longer shadow than I thought one her size could take up. She was nearly at the door, but her shadow seemed to stretch nearly to the truck that was parked probably thirty feet from the entrance.

Grabbing my bag, I quickly ambled after her. The door had a great big handle, that had an ancient looking keyhole. Without hesitation Hilda whipped out a set of keys, the soft loop caught the light and I could see it silver glow. Reaching out, she waved a black fob across an unnoticed pad, and the door opened automatically. I marveled for a second at the rather advanced system given its status as an “older” motel. Quick as a tick, Hilda crossed the threshold and I followed suit. The door began to close as I stepped through it. Then with a firm click, the door locked and I was inside.

It was far more orderly than I had anticipated, the interior was clean, and rather sleek. It was done in a more earthen tone interior browns and neutrals made it pleasant. The reception desk was a little way inside from doors. It was a rather long desk, with an older styled drawer system that looked like something you’d find at a rural post office. They were each numbered and I could see nearly a hundred or more drawers. Outside of that there was a small seating area by the row window and then I noticed further down there was actually an elevator. Hilda cleared her throat and I turned to face her.

“Sorry Dearie, it looks like you’ll have to wait till morning to meet Mr.Neman. I’ll show you to your room, it’s past the time for any guest to arrive,” she said matter of factly.

I’d opened my mouth to respond when I hear a knock at the door. Instinctively I turned towards the sound, I saw two people looking at me from the window. It was the odd couple from the airport, the man and the girl. The girl was still looking at her phone. Bitterly I wondered who her provider was it seems like I still didn’t have any service.

The man was the one to knock and I stepped forward. My body moving before my mind! It was rude to leave customers waiting, that was one of the first things that had been drilled into you at school. Always help the guest, I was halfway to the door, the man’s eyes looking at me expectantly. When a terrible gripping chill closed around my wrist, stopping mid stride I looked down at my wrist that was caught like a mouse in the grip of Hilda. She had moved faster than I thought was possible, her grip ironclad and immovable.

“Dearie,” her voice was low, oddly authoritative,” do you remember the rules?” Raising her head, she fixed me with her one good eye. It pierced into me and the rules that I had obsessively read over came thundering to the forefront of my mind.

“To promptly shut the door after 9 pm. No guest can check in after that,” I said. Reaching into my purse, I fished out my phone and there it was in bright digital pixels, the time, 9:10 pm. It was ten minutes past close. Not to mention it was the weekend, there weren’t suppose to be any check in’s. Biting my lip, I looked at the two that were standing outside expectantly. He was still wearing those sunglasses but I knew, no, I could feel his stare. It seemed to bore into me as he waited.

“It’s only ten minutes past, surely, we could let them in?”

My voice sounded unsure even to my own ears as I remember how much the importance of the rules was stressed in the welcome package. But the training from school pressed against the importance of the rules! I knew in the back of my mind that I didn’t know the system yet, nor did I know the specific of the motel. Although, I had read through and understood the base of the information, I had never done it before. Hilda’s grip didn’t relent if anything it got tighter and I found the heat leaching out from my body as if someone had split open my vein and was letting the blood run out of me.

“The rules.”

Her voice was iron clad and demanded that I listen to her and obey the rules. A loud thump made my heart sputter in my chest as I whirled to look towards the door. He’d raised his arm and had brought his fist down on the wooden part of the door. His lip was curled up in annoyance and he repeated, that terrible thumping pounding that made my teeth rattle.

“You have to follow the rules Dearie,” she hissed. Her voice was low and demanded that I obey. There was a hard edge that said plainly ‘do as I say.’ Or maybe, ‘do as the rules say.’ I felt torn, my stomach churning faster as I tried to breathe through my nose to steady my hands that I felt shaking.

The penetrating cold bit into my wrist where she had caught it. It almost felt as if I didn’t have a hand anymore. Bang, Bang, Bang! I couldn’t pry my eyes away from her, I knew that logically it was only ten minutes past, but I also, understood that she was not going to let me. I’d have to push her away from myself, and then quickly make it to the door. But was that reasonable? I wrestled with this thought.

“I don’t kno-“ I stuttered but with a final thundering bang, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Turning I found that the man was now nearly frothing at the mouth as he banged, the girl was now looking up from her phone. Her eyes seemed to cut straight into me, and I quickly turned away. I swear I thought I saw something, I still don’t know what exactly I saw.

Hilda’s hand left my wrist, almost as if she knew that I had lost the will to let them in. That I had finally saw her reasoning, for some reason, I felt defeated and then happy that I could turn that feeling onto the rules. It was all because of the rules, I had to follow the rules. Did I want to be a rule breaker on not even my first day at the job?

“Here follow me this way Dearie,” Hilda’s voice was sweet. It had lost the hissing edge, and I glanced up and found her standing with a key in her hand. She also had my other suitcase, I tried to put the banging sound out of my mind.

Grabbing my other suitcase, I followed Hilda down the corridor. Even as we moved away from the front door, I could still hear the banging, but I trained my eyes on the smaller woman’s back. She didn’t say much, and for some reason the silence was stifling. At this point, I wanted her to say anything, to maybe given an explanation to the people outside. There was no explanation and I stopped as we neared another hallway. This one only had a singular door, and no others. She stopped at the door, and it simply had ‘Manager’ as the plate on the door. It didn’t have a number, and I felt that was strange. The information packet had said that it was a live in position, but I had assumed that I would be using one of the rooms. Not that I would have my own personal space on my own separate hallway.

She used the key and it slide into the lock with a resounding click. Leaving it at that she didn’t turn the knob or anything. Hilda had simply released the key and stepped back, leaving my suitcase where she had parked it.

“Well I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be heading to my own room now, I don’t think I can make it back to the store.” She smiled, I just stared at her. Trying to think of some words to say in response, but I felt like a fish out of water.

“Remember bright and early tomorrow, the Head of House keeping will be there to help you settle into your post. Remember to lock the door, Dearie,” she said her voice soft and welcoming. But I felt a shudder pass down my spine at her intonation. She turned and promptly began to walk down the hallways, it was finally when she was at the end of it that I managed to get my tongue working.

“Goodnight Hilda, thank you for the lift here,” I called. Wincing as I realized I might have shouted too loud given that there were probably other guest that were sleeping.

Hilda simply turned and gave me that lopsided smile before she made a left hand turn and continued down to some unknown room. I turned towards my door and entered, the room opened up to a cute and rather updated apartment, rather than a Motel room. It had a kitchen and a couple other doors that were left open. I noted that one appeared to be an office space, and the other three doors lead to two empty rooms, minus the bed in one, and the other lead to a rather large bathroom. I nodded my head and quickly fished out my toiletries and brushed my teeth. I’d have to leave unpacking for another day.

With that I retried to the bedroom, and this is where I am writing this because even as I lay here. I can still hear Hilda’s voice ringing in my head. Repeating the same phrase over and over now ‘the rules dearie!’ Along with the steady rhythmic thump, thump, thump of the couple’s fist demanding to be let into the Motel.

I’m posting this because, I’m wondering if anyone else is a Manager of a Hotel or Motel that has strange rules? I’ll post more as I settle in and see if the first night jitters go away. Also to update you about if they’re still outside in the morning.