Motel From Hell

Applying To The Motel From The Hell

"So... Are you leaving now?" Chester's muffled voice floats through the bathroom door. After another hour of lounging in bed I pulled myself up from his bed, and took a shower. Now with damp hot skin, a fresh change of clothes, and a mouth full of foaming toothpaste, I'm speaking to Chester telepathically.

I don't know, I think. I don't want to leave, God knows the next time I'll find a hot shower, a bed, and cooked food. But if I don't start walking while the sun is up, I'll be stuck hiking in the dark.

"So, you have a destination? A place to stay?" Chester asks from behind the door.

No. My mind reacts before I have a chance to really think. I know what places I want to go to someday; Europe, California, New York. But I don't have a home, or a temporary place to say, I don't even have a plan. I shut my eyes, realizing that Chester heard every panicked truth rushing in my head. Feeling like a deflated balloon I finish up, and open the door to a waiting Chester.

"You can stay here," Chester states with a hopeful glint in his eye. "You don't have to be living off the streets, you don't have to be desperate for money. You can stay here, and work here at the motel." Chester says. The proposition leaves the ground suddenly steadier, and my shoulders a lot lighter.

"Work as what?" I ask, poking at the idea.

"As a maid- really the only maid- so head of housekeeping." Chester states. "As you can clearly see this place doesn't have any cleaning staff." Chester says, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I've noticed." I say, picturing the gross commendations, the bloody shower curtain, and the grim on every flat surface of this place.

"It'll obviously come with pay, and I can provide board." Chester adds.

"I feel like you're the one in an interview here, and not the other way around." I say.

"I... I... It's just not a lot of people see me as me, they're afraid of a demon that's not even me." Chester says, looking down at the floor. My heart goes out to him, and I send a thought his way. You're not a monster. His green eyes flick up from the floor, and look up at me from under his thick lashes, those fields of green now burning with warmth.

"So, how am I suppose to work in a haunted motel with the highest body count in the county?" I say, remembering each tormented face from the mass suicide last night, and my skin still burns from the drops of blood from the shower curtain.

"Actually, it's highest in the state." Chester corrects. That sells pitch isn't actually selling me.

"Um, well, I'll protect you." Chester says. "I am a half demon, and that side can control bad spirits. So don't worry, I won't let anyone haunt you, or anything damn you, or even have a hair on your head harmed." Chester exclaims, his hand coming up and stroking my hair. Honestly out of everything he said his touch is what won me over. I don't have anyone, since I've ran away I can't remember the last I talked to someone. I'm alone, I have nothing, and Chester is the first person in a long time I've actually liked.

"Okay, I'm hired." I say.

"I think I'm suppose to say that." Chester says. I smile up at him, and lean into his touch, trying to ignore the feeling of expending doom at the back of my heart.

"So, do I have sign a contract in blood or swear external service, or something?" I joke. Chester rolls his eyes, and much to my disappointment pulls his hand away.

"Demon jokes, very funny." Chester says dryly. "No, just the usual workers' Union paperwork will do just fine." Chester says. A half demon who runs the haunted Motel From Hell has a union, who would have guessed.