chapter three
Blaine walked into the hotel lobby, and up to the reception area. He rang the bell. It echoed too much for a small bell. Blaine sighed. "Hello?"
Geez, Blaine, how many times are you going to do this?
Blaine went to the north door, and put his hand to the knob.
It wouldn't open. He pulled harder, but still, it wouldn't open. "Is it locked?" He twisted the handle. It went all the way around. "Oh damn, the lock is broken!"
He turned around, and began to walk to the Toluca restaurant, when he saw a map hanging on the wall. He took a look at it, and decided he didn't need it. He walked into the restaurant, and looked around. He remembered this as the hotel he, his Mother, and his Father, had stayed in before deciding to move here.
"Oh wow, Blaine, this town is so perfect."
"It's great for the little squirt. There's a school, and an amusement park. The houses are really cheap, too."
Blaine stood there for a few minutes, before his memories skipped ahead.
"Linda. . . Don't you remember? This is where we decided to move here."
He remembered his Father sobbing and weeping.
"Why did you have to die?!"
He remembered putting his arms around him.
"Its okay, Dad. We're going to be okay. Let's go home, this was a bad idea."
"God damn it, Blaine! We can't go home!"
Blaine remembered that his confusion in that moment lasted a lifetime.
"They took our house! You think I can pay the fucking bills?!"
He remembered Dad falling to his knees, everybody staring at them.
"I wanted to tell you before, but I couldn't. . ."
Blaine stood there, and he shook his head, then noticed something he hadn't before.
The window that led to the balcony was smashed open. The shards of glass were spread over the carpet. Blaine walked up to it. There was a large crowbar. He picked it up, and stepped out onto the balcony. "Hello?"
Blaine! Jesus, man! GIVE IT A REST! NOBODY is here!
"Somebody bashed in the window, and it must have been recently, because nobody picked up the glass."
Who the Hell could be here right now?
"Blaine. . ." It was the same voice he had heard earlier. "Blaine. . ."
He looked around. "God dammit! Who is here?"
It was coming from under the deck. Blaine looked down.
"Please Blaine, you have to find me."
He bent down, looking under the deck. Then he heard growling. His eyebrows widened as the deck broke under him, and he felt two hands push him into the air. He landed a few feet away. He looked up, and saw it.
It was similar to the one he had seen earlier, except it was slightly shorter, and had no hands. But the biggest difference was the head. It was a woman's head. Blaine looked at it, slowly backing away. It was moving steadily towards him, and it spoke again, this time the voice was more distorted and slow.
"You heard me, didn't you?"
Blaine felt his back hit a table. "Stay away!"
It continued to come closer. Blaine clutched his crowbar. "I'll use it!"
He then saw no point in talking to it, because it wasn't human. Its skin was red and leathery, but its head stuck out, and it was unrecognizable, because it looked so beaten. Both its eyes were closed, and it had no mouth from which to speak.
"Blaine!"
Blaine felt panic ensuing, and quickly swung his weapon, hitting it in the head. The creature roared, and stumbled backwards.
"Blaine!"
Blaine swung again, from over his head. The creature fell to the ground, on its back. He raised the crowbar to hit it again, then felt its arm lash out and his leg with surprising force.
"Blaine!"
Blaine stepped back, then ran and kicked the beast, turning it onto its back. It writhed and squirmed on the ground, reminding him of someone in a seizure. It continued saying his name, now in erratic, random outbursts. Blaine felt rage inside him, raised his foot, and dug his heel into its chest. It roared one last time, before becoming still.
Blaine was panting. "Oh God. . ." He turned around, kneeled around, and threw up. He was hacking and coughing. After a few minutes, he stopped. "I've never killed anything before."
Not as easy as they make it seem on the movies, huh?
"Not at all." He hacked again, then wiped his mouth, and got up. "Could it have bashed in the window?" He thought about it for a moment.
It doesn't have hands, Blaine.
"So who bashed in the fucking window?!"
He heard no response. He looked at the creature again, and felt nauseous. He walked back into hotel, and out of the restaurant. He went into the lobby and up to the north door.
It's not gonna magically fix itself, Blaine.
Blaine raised his crowbar. "You're right." He swung and hit the door once. It didn't open. He hit it again. It moved inwards, but didn't open.
"Why the fuck didn't you protect her, Blaine?! Then we could still have the goddamn house!"
"It wasn't. . .my fault!" He yelled as he swung. He heard a loud crack, and the door opened. Again, the fog constricted his vision. "It wasn't my fault, Dad." He hung his head, than slowly, silently, left the hotel.