Blake is a teenage runaway who finds a job at a haunted motel in the middle nowhere. In each room someone has either been murdered, or has committed suicide.
As the new maid she is cleaning up murders scenes, interacting with vengeful spirits, and h...
"Can you please describe the murder?" Murder... I twitch at the officer's harsh word, choking down tears and vomit.
"Can you please not use that word?" I ask, feeling my brown eyes sting with fresh tears. I feel sick, terrified to my spot in the motel's parking lot where it's unusably packed with police cars, ambulances and an 18 wheeler.
I thought they were in love, I made up an entire story about two estranged truck driver lovers in my head. In actually the balding man is a serial killer who kills strangers at road stops, dive bars and motels.
"He kil-" the officer starts, but I cut him off.
"Please." I mumble, my body shuddering with goosebumps covering every inch my body. My stomach is knotted up so tight I might vomit any second.
"Describe the assailant." The officer repeats his question. Hunching over I take a deep breath, holy crap, someone died again.
"Ugh..." I groan. "Um... T-tall-"
"How tall?" The cop interrupts.
"I don't know, measuring isn't a check in requirement." I say, running my hands through my dirty blonde hair roughly.
"Then how tall would you guess?" The cop snaps impatiently.
"I don't know!" I crack under pressure, my tears ripping free. That man was screaming for help, he needed help, and I was clipping newspapers.
"Hey, it's been a long day, give her a break." Chester comes up behind me, tangling his fingers through mine. With all my strength I grip his hand, feeling as if it's the only thing keeping me standing straight.
"You can come back tomorrow, and question us again." Chester declares as if everyone agreed civilly, then pulling me away. Slowly, I march next to my tall boss, not able to even glance at the motel. Chester locks the apartment door behind him, using his palm to wipe away my tears from my face.
"Are you okay?" I ask, looking up at him.
"Yeah, I'm fine." Chester says, not letting go of my hand as we walk to my room.
"Are you sure?" I ask, staring down my new bed.
"Yeah," Chester insists. "Are you okay?" He asks.
"I'm not sure yet." I answer. "Can I sleep in your room?" I ask. Chester's answer is walking us over, kicking off his shoes by the door. Burying myself under the blankets I feel Chester slide in next to me.
"What if he comes back?" I ask, my ears burning with fear.
"We'll call the cops." Chester says, locking me in his arms. "And don't worry, I'll keep you safe." Chester says, pulling me against his chest.
Later "Are you going to quit?" Chester's quiet words make me turn around in his arms. We didn't sleep, I was to anxious to sleep.
"No," I start. "I'm not leaving." I say his real fear. Chester buries his head in the nape of my neck, his arms tightening on my hips.
"Are you going to open the motel today?" I ask.
"No." He answers. Suddenly, the bedroom door opens, making me snap up with pure fear. I panically grab a lamp off a night table and clutch high over my head. The balding serial truck driver doesn't walk in, instead a tall brunette guy casually walks in. Chester sits up with an irritated huff, giving the stranger a flat look.
"Look at my big brother getting his Hugh Hefner on." The guy winks at us.
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"Brother?" I ask dumbly, lowering the lamp.
"Yeah, brother." Chester groans as his brother plops down onto the bed.
"Brother." The guy smirks, wagging his brown brows at me. Up close I can see Chester's green eyes on his brother.
"Half brother actually. I called him." Chester explains. "And we didn't do anything." Chester adds with a scolding look.
"Doesn't look like it. Looks like you had a midnight stand." Chester's brother says.
"I'm the maid." I correct, crossing my arms over my chest. I'm not some slutty midnight stand.
"Kinky." The brother says with a smug look.
"Blake, meet Mason."
"Nice to me you." Mason gives me a smirk, and flashes me pitch black eyes. I flinch at the pupil less voids of black. He's a demon.
