Mike, Micky, and Peter jogged forward to meet Davy. They followed his eyes to see a glimmer of light not too far off in the distance.

"Is that a mirage?" Micky asked.

"Let's hope not," Mike answered. "Come on guys. We have got to get to the source of that light.

The light was getting brighter with every step forward they made in their trek. Soon, they could make out multiple lights on in different windows of a building. They picked up the pace.

"If this really is a mirage then that's just cruel," Micky said.

"I don't think so, Mick. Just a little further and we will be there," Mike said.

"What if they don't accept strangers?" Davy asked.

"Especially long-haired weirdoes," Peter added.

"We at least have to try," Mike answered.

As the building came into focus, the guys could make out its features. It was a black and gray Victorian style home. It looked to be four stories and very expansive. When they approached the building, the sign outside answered those lingering questions. "Hotel Valencia," Davy read aloud as lightning crashed overhead.

"That was ominous," Peter said. All the others stared at him in disbelief. "What? It was on my word of the day calendar today."

"Huh, ironic," Davy said.

"No, ironic was yesterday's word," Peter replied shaking his head.

"I'm gobsmacked," Davy added.

"I haven't gotten to that word yet," Peter answered looking confused.

"Hopefully it's cheap," Mike said changing the subject. "We are strapped for cash."

"Don't worry, Mike. We do have that extra gas money," Micky offered.

It was then that they noticed a woman standing in the hotel's front entrance. She was dressed in an old fashioned black, lace dress, complete with long sleeves, a tall collar covering the neck with a cameo brooch, and a full skirt. Her raven colored hair was tucked in a tight bun at the top of her head. Her emerald green eyes pierced through the men as they approached the front steps.

"Welcome to the Hotel Valencia," she spoke. "I am Agatha, how may I assist you?"

"Hello Miss Agatha," Mike began. "We are here to inquire about a room. You see, our car ran out of gas in the middle of the desert. We don't know where we are or how to proceed until morning. We don't have much money and wanted to see if there is even a possibility of staying here. If there are rooms available. If not, maybe directions to a gas station."

"Plenty of room at the Hotel Valencia. What is it that you gentlemen do for a living?" Agatha asked.

"We are musicians," Micky answered. "We were actually on our way back from a competition."

Agatha rang the bell on the desk indicating there were new occupants of the hotel. "Perfect timing," she exclaimed.

"It is?" Peter questioned.

"We are having a celebration for the residents of the hotel and are in need of music," Agatha replied. "If you are willing to provide the music, you may stay free of charge. We have instruments available here."

"You are having a party? Its 11:15!" Micky said with confusion.

"Forget that, Micky," Mike said. "We would be happy to play. Thank you."

With that Agatha lit a candelabra and led the way down a hallway. "Follow me to your room to freshen up and then meet out in the back courtyard for the celebration."

The corridors and stairwells were very dimly lit by sconces on the dark colored walls. All the décor and furniture looked as antique as the building itself. The floor creaked as the five made their way to the very end of the hall on the second floor. Mike swore he heard whispers of voices as they walked through the hotel corridors. He decided that it may just be the structure settling. He thought to himself that this could be their saving grace, but he couldn't shake the feeling of impending misery deep down in his core.

"I'm scared, Mike," Peter interrupted Mike's thoughts.

"Why is that, Shotgun?"

"I have a bad feeling about this place."

Mike in that moment shoved down his own feelings of unease to comfort his friend. "It will all be okay. I promise." Mike gave Peter's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.


"Here we are." Agatha used a vintage skeleton key to open a room that looked just as antiquated as everything else. "I'll leave you to your preparations." She turned to Davy, who was standing closest to the door, and placed her hand on his cheek delicately. "Such a lovely face." And then she departed.

Davy blushed, "Would you look at that. I think she's sweet on me."

Mike made some revving engine sounds, "The libido is powered up."

"Don't make me cause you to come crashing down like I did before," Davy countered.

"That was a lucky shot, Tiny," Mike responded. "The darkness would have caused anyone to be susceptible to that kind of trickery. But make no mistake; if circumstances were different I would have walloped you."

"Better dust yourself off, Mate. There are traces of my victory all over your clothes," Davy provoked.

Mike was about to put his vertically challenged friend in his place, when he noticed Peter keeled over a chair in the room. "Pete? Are you okay?"

The bassist let out a low moan and lifted his head to look at his bandmates. His face was pale and he had sweat beads forming around his face. "My stomach doesn't feel so good."

"It was probably one of those cheese and grape jelly sandwiches you made us for the ride out here," Micky offered. "Thankfully I passed on that delicacy."

"But I ate that hours ago. I didn't start feeling sick until we walked into this hotel. I knew I had a weird feeling about this place."

"That's ridiculous," Davy said, "I think your illness is causing you to have strange sensitivities. Soon you're going to start hallucinating."

"I'm telling you guys…"

Mike interrupted Peter, "Listen, Pete, why don't you rest up here and we will go play the party. I don't want you to push yourself too much. Davy can play bass for you. Deal?"

"Don't leave me by myself up here guys," Peter trembled.

Micky helped usher Peter to one of the beds. "Don't worry Big Peter. We shouldn't be down there too long. How much longer can this shindig last? I mean, it's late enough already."