This hotel is stranger than I thought...It's still dark out. But mom's gonna have a fit...I have to get home.

When Jake awoke, it was still dark.

No, that couldn't be right. He got up and squinted at the boarded-up window, but no daylight shone through the cracks. The candle on his desk still flickered. The hotel room seemed just as dark as it was when he entered last night. How...Strange. Even the Neitherworld had normal day and night cycles. Where was this Gregory House exactly located?

No matter. He put on his jacket again and crept out of his room. Glancing back and forth to confirm the hallways were empty, he began making his way to the lobby…

...Only to be stopped by a small mrrow.

He'd heard a cat before, right...Last night? He turned around slowly to see the door next to his own room's, numbered 203. But this one wasn't the rotting green wood like the others-More a rusty orange. After a quick glance back and forth, he peered into the door's keyhole, which let him see a little bit into the room. "Hey." He whispered.

He could barely make out a cat, perhaps just as big as Gregory, if not larger. Perhaps it was the lighting, but he seemed entirely purple and grey, with a blue-and-red striped shirt and baggy pants and...Was his fur striped, too, or was that stitches? His red eyes looked over to the door, and indeed, it was stitches-They were over his eyelids, too. Jake cringed.

"Hello…? You must be our new guest. Yes...I've heard about you. Mrrow…"

"Heard…?" Jake blinked a bit. "Heard what?"

"Gregory was simply talking...About how interesting you would be, yes...But I've heard the same about some of the other...Guests." He made a motion as though he was grooming himself, but he didn't lick his paw beforehand, so he couldn't be. "You should leave now...Before anyone else sees you."

He straightened up, pulling away from the keyhole. What a strange cat...Though then again perhaps he shouldn't be surprised. Again he turned, making his way down the creaky stairs and back to the manor's lobby.

It was empty, though he supposed that couldn't be all that unusual. It had been empty when he came in last night, after all. Ever so slowly he walked towards the front door, taking a few glances in case anyone decided to sneak up on him. His hands grasped the door handles, and with one last glance back (in which nobody showed up), he pulled on the door.

But it was locked.

He frowned, then pulled again. And again, and again, but the door simply remained locked. Jake gritted his teeth. "Wh-But it opened before!"

"If it's not rude to ask...What are you trying to accomplish?"

Jake gasped and turned, his back suddenly pressed to the door. At the front desk, paging through the directory with reading glasses perched on his nose, was Gregory. Jake opened his mouth, about to ask how he got there, but decided against it. "...I just...My mom's gonna flip, you know, I just wanted to go home."

"Oh? Well I most certainly couldn't let you do that."

"Why not?"

Gregory's tail twitched. As though on cue there was a lightning flash from outside, a crack of thunder, and the sound of a horrible torrential downpour. Jake nearly jumped out of his skin, startled in the change in weather. The rat, however, paid it no heed. "That storm does sound dangerous. My friend, if you were to go out there, you'd be soaked to the bone and never get anywhere. Do stay here until the storm clears."

He looked back to the locked door for a moment. Well, maybe he had a point...After all, with rain like this, he'd end up catching a cold and drudging all the way back home would be an absolute pain. He nodded slowly, leaving the door. "Um...But a few more things?"

"Yes?"

"Who...Who's the cat next door?"

Gregory paused, his face becoming a bit more grave. "Did I not tell you not to bother with the creature next door?"

"...No?"

"Well, consider this a warning. He's a despicable creature, my friend. A vile beast who'd attack anyone on sight." His voice dropped slightly. "Under no circumstances, as manager of this hotel, can I allow you to approach him. Yes?"

That didn't really answer his question, and the cat certainly didn't look too harmful. No more harmful than Gregory himself, even. Though then again maybe it was just a bias against cats-Gregory was a rat, after all. Jake wisely decided not to press the topic, but vowed to see that cat again as soon as he could. "...Sure." He eventually agreed. "And, also, is there anywhere to get breakfast? I was kinda out for a while…"

"Yes...You are a heavy sleeper." Gregory chuckled to himself. "But yes. Just go down that hallway right there," He made a gesture with one hand over to a hallway Jake had only seen in glances, "You're sure to find the kitchen there. Take what you like, my friend."

Jake nodded. "Uh, thanks." He walked off, hearing that rat chuckle again. What could he possibly find so funny? His eyes wandered around the corridor as he trotted down it, licking his lips lightly. He hadn't really thought about it before, but he hadn't eaten since lunch at school yesterday. If that was yesterday? It was still dark out, it very well could be the very same night. He actually was slightly hungry, even if it hadn't crossed his mind until now.

He reached a door, and slowly he opened it. This one was unlocked. It lead to a dining hall, with a long table and many chairs in the center. Currently, it was deserted, meaning he missed breakfast. Unless nobody ate at the same time, which he could reasonably see. At the back of the room there was a double-door with two round windows on it, the type of door he'd seen in restaurants...That lead to the kitchen! Smiling lightly, Jake rushed around the table and pushed open the double-doors.

The kitchen was, surprisingly, clean. There were a few pots and plates and bowls all around the room, and they weren't clean, but the kitchen itself was. It was so much larger than the claustrophobic-but-not-quite rooms that he'd been in previously, and it took a moment to collect his bearings. In the back, if he looked hard enough, he could spot a refrigerator. Good, good. If there was a refrigerator, that meant there had to be food. Jake took a quick survey of the room, confirmed it was empty (but knowing this hotel, he fully expected someone to show up just as he opened the 'fridge), and crept towards the appliance, his hand touching the handle.

He heard the double-doors open.

"Wh-What are you doing in my kitchen!?"

Jake turned around, panicked. This voice was not Gregory's-It was lower and certainly more hostile. What he saw at the double-doors was not an animal, like the rat or the cat, but rather a candle. The top was a chef's hat / candle top mix, a flame burning bright, and wax dripping down. It's face was obscured, but the eyes glowed red, mussy blond hair just barely visible. On it's body, a mere standard-issue chef's outfit, with a red bandanna and apron. And in it's hand, a knife, a large knife that wouldn't be surprising if it frequently made the 'shing' sound audibly sharp things often made.

"I-I was just hungry!" Jake insisted, his eyes going back towards the 'fridge. "I just woke up and wanted breakfast, and G-Gregory said that I could...I could help myself."

Which wasn't exactly the truth, but would the chef know better?

"You shouldn't intrude in my kitchen!" The chef snapped, and before Jake could blink it's knife was aiming towards his throat, the only thing blocking it being the distance between the two and the little island-counter in the kitchen's center. "If you want food, you wait until I go about serving it! I should turn you into mincemeat for this."

Jake attempted to back up further, but this was impossible, considering the 'fridge behind him. He bit the inside of his cheek. "I-I'm sorry! It won't happen again! Promise!"

"It shouldn't have happened in the first place!" It snapped again, but slowly the knife lowered as the chef chuckled darkly. "Let me make you a drink." It said, walking slowly to a carton of...Well, the label just read '100% Juice', which didn't really clarify much. It slowly poured it into a glass that was just on the counter (had it been washed?) and walked back to the island-counter before setting the glass down and sliding it over to Jake. "Consider this an appetizer, and consider yourself lucky."

He swallowed hard. Suddenly, he didn't feel so hungry, but he figured this chef wouldn't take kindly to hearing that. Slowly, he reached for the cup, eyes flickering between the '100% Juice' (which was a strange shade of red-purple and didn't look very friendly) and the chef, who showed no expression but was still scaring Jake more than he cared to admit. Once it was in his hand, he rose the cup to his lips. He considered pinching his nose to numb the taste, like he'd sometimes do when Moth forced some strange Neitherworld cuisine on him, but as he reached up to do just that the chef made a sound that sounded like a cough, so he decided against it.

He sipped the drink. It was thick and didn't like going down his throat, and after he swallowed he had to fight to keep from launching in a coughing fit in fear of provoking the chef. He looked back to the chef, who hadn't moved, so he took another sip. Another. Another. Each one seemed to get thicker and stick longer in his throat, and finally on the fifth sip he had to set down the cup and start coughing hard.

What was that drink…?

His head hurt. With every cough it seemed to throb more. His legs were shaking. His breathing was becoming jagged, and he was just coughing so much, his head was clouding, his vision blurring as he…

...As he toppled back onto the kitchen floor.

Before the unconsciousness set in, he heard a different voice.

"Oh, dear. What have we here?"

As Jake slipped under, Gregory stood over him, a small chuckle coming from the back of his throat. "Did chef give you some juice? Well, this is to be expected...Some people just can't take one hundred percent of anything." Another chuckle, but this one stopped abruptly when the chef was suddenly over Jake as well, it's knife dangerously close to Jake's throat. "Chef, what are you doing?"

"He entered my kitchen! Tried to swipe my food! Dirty thief-I should make him into a sausage link!"

"Now, now, quiet, chef." Gregory crooned, looking from the chef back to the unconscious Jake. "He only just got here...Let me take him back to his room." The rat bent over, grabbing Jake from under the armpits and slowly dragging him out of the kitchen. "Think of it like wine...Or cheese. He'll only get better with time…"

The chef wasn't happy with this, but he watched Gregory leave before turning back to the refrigerator and throwing it open. He had to cook.

Y'know, Jake, now I know how you feel.

I get lost all the time, and you have to come save my sorry behind. And now here you are! Missing! And I have to go play hero. I mean, not that I totally dig that, but it's no fun when you're going around like an idiot without a map looking for a guy.

Wait, where am I?

Great. Got wrapped up in my thoughts and now I'm lost.

"...Never seen this place before."

Moth hovered inches from the ground. She had been so preoccupied in her search for Jake and her own thoughts to notice she'd completely abandoned Neitherworld Plaza and was now...Here. Wherever here was.

Okay, 'here' was actually a dark woodland. There was a small path under her feet, but nothing paved, just a makeshift little thing made from the feet of many a traveller. Well, at least she knew that forward was the right way to go, as though she wasn't just going to go that way anyhow. The trees loomed above her, mostly leafless, and if she squinted she could make out...Were those headstones behind the trees? Geez, she was in a graveyard?

"Sweet. Maybe there's somma' my Neitherworld buddies buried here." Moth said, since Moth had this annoying habit of talking to herself. "If I had Neitherworld buddies, hah! But seriously, wouldn't that be fun? 'Hey, Frank, guess who knows where you died!' Hah, yeah!"

She floated on.

Her incessant chatter to herself slowly halted. She shivered. It was weird to think, but Moth was slightly...Unnerved. As a proud member of Neitherworld society, Moth shouldn't be scared. Very few things could spook Moth-Well, snakes could, as could a good handful of lizards, and those horrible Sandworms. But she guessed she could now add this woodland / graveyard thing to that small list. Think was, it wasn't...Bright, was that the word? The Neitherworld was always just so lively, and this...This was not. She frowned, looking up and the bows of the trees and then down at the beaten path and wondered when the-

Wait-What was that?

Moth's path stopped when, in front of her, was a manor. An old wood manor, nothing special, with two candles and words over the door: 'GREGORY HOUSE'. She craned an eyebrow, gently lowering herself to the ground. "What the...Never heard of a dump like this before." She muttered, but hey, it was somewhere she hadn't checked. She hopped up to the door and pushed it open with her shoulder, walking into the lobby of the hotel. It was, disappointingly, empty. She frowned, looking around the place, walking up to the desk and knocking it with the back of one knuckle. "Hey, hello! Can I get some service?"

"Hey, lady! Whatcha' doing here?"

Moth looked over, blinking slowly. There was now someone else in the lobby: a small rat, a yellowy hue. A few youthful freckles dotted his face, where a small grin was plastered, and on his body was a yellow-and-red striped shirt. She frowned down at the creature. "Is it weird to think a hotel should gimme some service?"

"Well, you aren't gonna get it that way. Grandpa's off cleaning the library, so I'm in charge, 'cause he said I get to run this place!" It's grin never wavered, making Moth wonder how sincere the statement was. "Uh, what does he say...Would you like a room, lady?" It hopped off behind the counter and with a great deal of effort he stood on tip-toe to make his head pop up over it.

"Yeah, sure, seems like an okay place. Get me a room, then!" Moth smirked.

"You got it." It ducked under the counter for a moment, coming back up with a big guestbook. It flipped through a few pages until it came upon one with a blank line. "Uh, name?"

"It's Mothjuice. Moth for short, if 'ya don't mind."

It looked back up at her, face flat and disbelieving. "What, seriously?" It snickered. "You need a better name there, lady." With another chuckle, the rat wrote her name in the guestbook: Mawthjooce. "It's a really dumb name."

"That's M-O-T-H-J-U-I-C-E, kid."

"I know." It replied with a laugh before closing the book without correcting the spelling. Jerk. It went back behind the counter, putting away the guestbook and coming back up with a ring of keys. It hopped out from behind the counter. "Well, c'mon then, lady. Grandpa gave away our normal room to some other sap, but I think there's a free one by the cactuses…"

Moth blinked. "What other sap?" She asked, but the little rat was already walking off and hopping up a flight of stairs. Frowning, she trotted on after him, leaving behind a small trail of pine sap that she was slowly scraping off her body. Curse these literal translation powers. Quietly, she followed the rat up the set of stairs, and then down a hall…

"At least, I'm pretty sure it's this way…" It muttered, frowning slightly.

How could this kid be lost in his grandpa's own hotel? Moth crossed her arms and angrily glared down at the creature. "Don't you have a map?"

"Suuuure, lady." It snickered, stopping in front of a door for a moment, but soon walking quickly away from it, looking around the hall for any sign of-

"James!"

Moth and the rat stopped dead. "Whoop, I'm outta' here." He-James?-Said quickly, tossing the keyring into Moth's hands and scampering off. "See 'ya later, lady!"

"James, how many times must I remind you that the library is not your personal-!" The new voice continued from behind Moth, and slowly she turned around. It was another rat, this one larger than James, grey and old with a pink coat and a red-and-black striped shirt. It stopped in it's pursuit of James upon discovering Moth, very much in the way it's quest, but no matter. "Ah. Are you a new guest?" It said, it's demeanor changing faster than Moth could blink. "We don't usually get more than one...Welcome to Gregory House, my dear."

"No trouble." Moth shrugged, twirling the keyring around one finger. The rat noticed it but did not comment. "The kid already checked me in, said there was a room by some cactuses? It's Mothjuice. Moth for short."

"What a fascinating nickname, my dear. However did you get it?" Moth was about to comment on how that wasn't a nickname, rather her actual honest-to-god name, but she didn't get the time since the rat began talking again. "No matter, you wouldn't tell such stories to an old thing like me...I'm Gregory, and I run this establishment. A pleasure, certainly. I see you've already met my grandson, James?"

Oh, so this was James's grandpa. She didn't know what she expected, but it was not this, that was for sure. "Yeah."

"I do hope he hasn't caused you any trouble. Give me the keyring, now, and let me show you to your room."

She stopped her incessant twirling of the keyring for a moment before tossing it to the rat. He caught it and ever so slowly edged his way around Moth, leading the way with the ghost following. "So!" She said, "Who's the other guy? Y'know, the sucker-" She paused to unwrap the lollipop that conveniently appeared in her hand and lick it. It was mango. Ick. Without much thought she tossed it over her shoulder. "-That came before me?"

"My dear, you need not concern yourself with him. Just another cold, lost soul, looking for a place to stay...They're all the same." He looked over his shoulder at Moth. "And they make the same mistakes. Isn't it interesting how history repeats itself?" Gregory chuckled before looking back, ascending a second staircase, Moth following.

Did he say him? As in, the guest was male?

They went down another hallway or two before Gregory stopped at a little-used and unnumbered room on the second floor. "Yes...This will do nicely. Do make yourself comfortable." He said as he unlocked the door and Moth walked in.

It was a simple room. Small, unused bed on the wall to her right, desk and wardrobe and a few books to her right. No windows, and horribly chilly, but Moth didn't seem to mind the cold. "Uh, nice place." She frowned, lying through her teeth.

"Very sorry for the chill. This room hasn't been used in eons. But I hope you enjoy your stay here…" Gregory closed the door, and maybe Moth had faulty hearing but she could have sworn she heard him add, "For the rest of your life…" and then chuckle. But that couldn't be true. Only tacky horror movies had something like that.

Moth plopped back on the bed and yawned. Looking for Jake was getting tiresome. A little nap couldn't hurt. "B'sides, how much trouble could he really be in…?" She asked herself before curling up for a quick little nap.

In a downstairs hall, there was a shout.

"James! Stop leaving all your garbage on the floor!" Gregory scolded loudly as he picked up a barely-eaten lollipop.

Author's notes:

Apparently my mind's more set in the way Neko Zombie talks in the game, not in the show. Whoops.

SkellingtonGirl, mentioned beforehand as owner of Jake / Spider, is known as UlixesEmotion on here. Go check her out!