The Hotel

A Story by Dakota

Here I sit in another little run down motel on the side of a run down road, probably forgotten. I couldn't even find the name of this road on a map, it was totally by chance that I found it here. There isn't any internet out here, so I'm relying on an atlas I picked up about an hour down the road. It isn't easy to use that as a way of direction. I didn't grow up in the woods, so I never had to learn how to look at this damn thing. Oh well, the overwhelming paranoia that something is going to go wrong is engulfing me. I think that it would be poetic justice to put a bullet in my head right now and just be done with it. That's not going to happen, though, I have too much fight in me to give up now. This motel is starting to get to me. How do they keep this open? The wall directly in front of me is moldy and has a hole in it. I'm fairly certain that this wouldn't pass any sort of health inspection, and it wouldn't surprise me if the old man who owned this place is running it without a business license. It was cheap, and I need all the money I can save, so it'll do I suppose.

Jesus god, this room stinks. It's got a sulfuric smell as if there was a gas leak somewhere under the floor. It wouldn't surprise me if I found out that were the case, mostly because I know the old fart who runs this hole in the wall would never pay to have something like that fixed. I've already talked to him once tonight about the tap water being brown. “What was that?” he said to me. “The tap water is brown,” I responded, “I just thought you'd like to know that.” He stared at me as if I'd just took a s**t on the service counter. “Well let's see.” He walks over to the sink that sat in the corner of the room and turns it on. “See? It's fine down here,” I looked down at the faucet, it was as distorted as ever; “so why don't you just take your color blind self back up to your room, huh?” What the hell is wrong with this guy? “I'm not colorblind, you're being unreasonable.” I retorted, I knew there was no winning an argument with this little old f**k, it didn't stop me, though. “Do you even have a business license to run this place?” He looked at me and smirked, “of course I do, what do you know about running a hotel room anyway?” I felt heat rising up into my face, I was getting frustrated. I knew that if I kept opening my mouth that I was going to get kicked out without a refund. I turned around and walked back out the door, taking long breaths to keep myself from running back in there and smacking him across the mouth. It's obvious that his parents didn't do it enough.

I walked across the parking lot (I use that term loosely) and back to the stairs that took me to room 3 on the second level. I walked back in, and here I sit. I've calmed down quite a bit from the small disagreement I had with the would-be retiree. I do have a shorter fuse than most people, but I don't think it was unreasonable to confront the old man about it. The phone is ringing, but I think I'll ignore it. The last time I answered the phone, I was met with heavy breathing. I think they had the wrong number or thought the previous tenant was still residing here. I can't think of anyone that would be calling me doing that s**t. I have a 44. Magnum loaded at all times, I would love for someone to step out of line at me. It would really break up the boring quest that I have taken upon myself. I think In the morning I will leave out of this place, I don't see myself checking out. The old man wanted paper money and didn't ask for I.D, so I think that I'll leave him with a present on my way out. A bonfire sounds good, but I couldn't bring myself to something that criminal. I'll figure it out after a quick breakfast I guess.

Well this is rather abrupt, I just got back from investigating loud noises from outside. I was just about to start on my next and final paragraph for this “journal” when I heard three shots, each of which, echoed through the trees around the area. I loaded my Magnum and put my denim jacket back on. “Just what I needed,” I muttered to myself, “more s**t to keep me up at night.” I walked out of the door with one hand on my gun, and the other on my small emergency flashlight. I wasn't surprised to see anybody standing around, I still think I am the only one staying the night here. I walked towards the service office, “old man?” I called out. No response, just dead quiet, except for the trees that rustled in the light breeze. My heart sunk, I walked faster towards the office, and when I got to the door I peered into the after hours service window. Nothing. “Old man?!” I shouted with aggression, still no response. I tugged on the door. It was locked. I looked down and saw a small gravel rock, I picked it up and threw it through the then glass that kept the climate out. After I finally got the door unlocked, I walked in, looked around. No sign of the old man anywhere, I ran up the steps that went to his living area. “What the f**k...” The old man lay in a pool of blood, his arms missing, and his head nailed to the wall. I stood, wide-eyed, and in total disbelief of what I was seeing. I walked over to his body and followed the blood trail that ran out of his right arm socket. The blood trail stopped at a small trash can, I flipped the lid open with the nose of my gun. “Jesus Christ, what the hell is this?” I said aloud. The arm was ripped, into several smaller pieces. There was a gun underneath all of the mess that lay before me. I looked around for something to flip the pistol out of the small bin. I saw the old man's walking cane.

I got the handgun out, and immediately identified it as a colt 1911. Nice gun, but taking off with It would give the police a very good reason to track me down. So I left it on the ground next to the trash can. I couldn't fathom all the violence that unfolded there, and how anybody could actually do something that insane. I walked back down the stairs, and out of the door. I nonchalantly walked back to my room. As I finish this last little bit off, I am now deciding that maybe I should call the police then leave out as soon as possible. I don't really believe that I have time to get detained and question by cops. I need to get to Salem ASAP.