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Previously on The Child:
Entry 5
I don’t think I will ever really understand what all really happened back at the diner of paradise. Everything just seemed so odd that it was almost like it never really happened but with this note in my hand, its everything but. By the time I left I made way to the nearest city that I could find. The anticipation of what everything could have meant was tearing me apart. I rented out a motel for the night in a town called North Pike and I found immediately that this town wasn't kind to visitors. It was a couple minutes past midnight as I parked the Triumph outside the motel, I gathered my things and I proceeded to walk into the musky building
The outside of the building--even in the dark--looked totally rundown. The motel was three floors high, but nearly entirely made of glass. I guess the place mostly looked like a dump because there was neglect on the windows. The windows were covered in grime and dust and were cracked throughout the ages due to harsh winters and vandals. Though the building was mostly made out of glass, the building was dark, old and creepy. I only saw one light. That, of which, stood right outside the main doorway, the light itself even looked like it has had better day. I didn't want to spend my night here, but I was tired and was new to this town so the safest bet was to join the accompaniment of junkies and whores.
I opened up the door to walk inside and the wooden door made the worst creak I have ever heard in my life. It was like a banshee that just got out of the depths of hell and was looking for lambs for the slaughter. I, of which, didn't have any interest to be eaten any day just like the next person. So I walked in quickly and shut the door making a creech bang! I looked forward and it looked like I startled the attendant at the desk. He was sleeping from what I could see and all I could see was through candlelight. There was an old fashioned lamp to his left and it looked like it was made out of china. He turned a knob on the lamps side, which lit up the whole room, and I could finally see his face. Through his beard--from what I could see--showed that he was of an older generation. He was old but his hair still had its colour and glowing sheen, he cleared out his throat and he finally spoke.
'What'll you have?' His voice was deep and coarse; I had to then clear out my own throat so I could speak too. The outside was cold and I haven't spoke for hours, soon as I was ready I responded
'You have a room for the night'
'For how long?'
'The, night. Just the night.' I made sure I emphasized "night".
'Right.' He lowered his head below the desk and I heard a fumbling and a rustling. He then popped his head back up and slapped a key on the desk between us. The tag on the key read 317 and he continued. 'Third floor, left all the way down the hall off the stairs.' I picked up the keys and gave him a head nod of acknowledgment and I headed up the stairs.
Stairways have always gave me a weird sense of tingling down my spine. I've always imagined my killer taking my life down a desolate stairwell. He would follow me up the stairs slowly just looking like a average fellow citizen. The predator would be smart and agile. They would have a paper in one hand and their key in the other. If someone like that is walking up the stairs behind you then you can act defensive over that and that’s where they beat your wit. It’s the killers that seem normal that get you in the long run. They use their cunning to make you think that they are in trouble or that their dog is injured or even them being injured themselves so you can only feel compassion and sorry for them but that is what they feed off of.
I've always been interested on how the system of serial killers worked; as humans evolve they do too. People don't just accept anything from anyone. We get smart, they do too. We try to manipulate with all we got and that’s when they become cautious. The deceptive become more and more upper class and through that they gain the bidding of the people but more times than not, its just an act. I don't want to trust anyone but with the high keen to knowledge and manipulation that the evil has, I can only trust all who don't try to kill me. You never know who the killer could be and that’s how it happens to the T.
So I proceeded up the stairs to the top floor and proceeded to look for my room. It was the 5th on the right, which was good because the hallway didn't go too much further. Inserted the key, pushed open the door and I stood in the doorway looking into the dark room as if my killer was waiting for me. I first looked to my left and right into the hallway to make sure nobody was watching, the place was dead--which creeped me out. The walls were dirty and mucky like they were the walls to a swamp and the carpet didn't help out either.
The carpet, of which, was a bright puke orange. I feel like puking just thinking about it. So I fumbled with my hands a little bit just thinking about all the possibilities that could have awaited me and I realized I had to act on impulse. I stormed in through the doorway looking over my right shoulder as I passed the doorway and at the end of the hall I could of sworn I saw someone’s foot enter the hallway.
Remember me
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