Motel From Hell

Short Chapter

"Are you okay?" Chester asks, running his hand through my hair. I'm sitting up on the check in desk, angry red slashes rubbing down my neck and collarbone, and my hair disheveled.

"I'm just a little shaken up." I try to calm him down, clutching his hand in my hair. "But are you okay?" I ask, his hands knotting up with mine.

"We're focusing on you." Chester says, his other hand stroking up and down my neck, making my skin prickle with goosebumps. His face is pale, and his hands curl up into fists. He's not okay.

"Chester-" My words die off when he leans his forehead on mine, his green eyes shut as one hand tightens on my hand, and the other rubs his thumb on my neck. I press my lips together into a firm line and try not to move.

"Chester..." He doesn't answer, just inches closer till our noses brush against each other. I swallow thickly, hearing my heart thud unevenly in my ears.

"Okay, I gave the ghosts in room 101 a time out." We both jump apart at the sound of Mason's smug voice. Whipping around with a red face I see the tall half demon lean on the other side of the check in desk, aiming a smirk at Chester and I on the otherside.

"A time out?" I ask, hopping off the desk.

"Well, more like I burned rare herbs, and animal bones to temporarily banish them." Mason shrugs, looking between Chester and I.

"So, where are they now? Another room in the motel?" I ask, putting space between my boss and I.

"No," Chester sighs, "they're trapped in limbo because he banished them away from where they died." Chester explains, running his hand through his hair vexingly. My mouth drops and my throat dries up.

"So, they're just shoved away from their home, drifting in the middle of nowhere?" I breathe, feeling my stomach drop.

"This isn't their home, it's the place where they're attached to because this is where they died." Chester says, giving me a pair of worried green eyes.

"But they're people trapped in some vacuum." I protest.

"They're ghosts, they haven't been people since they died." Mason objects lazily.

"They're people just as much as us. Just with more... traumatized ectoplasm." I state. "You wouldn't want someone to treat you like that when you died." I comment.

"Should I burst your maid's bubble? Or do you want to?" Mason groans at his brother, earning a pointed look from both of us.

"She's a good person, Mason." Chester states, and I feel my heart flutter.

"Blake, ghosts... Once they die they either move on... Or if they experienced a traumatic death they're stuck. They become permanent scars of their death, they don't just lose their sanity, they lose their humanity." Chester explains with a cautious tone. I swallow thickly, my heart sinking.

"Can you say that about Benny?" I ask, my voice hurt. I remember how that tortured, lonely boy followed me like a puppy. Chester hangs his head, while Mason sighs in frustration.

"Death is complicated." Chester states, I let that settle the conversation and practically crawl back over to Chester, woefully bury my head into his chest. Chester wounds his arms around me, his grip tight on my hips.

"You two sure you haven't banged yet?"