Who are you!?" Elle asked as she backed away from him.
"My name is Charles. I live here." he said softly.
"You live in this hotel?" she asked doubtfully. Then man laughed. "Yes and no. I live everywhere in Springfield. It's a weird story. I don't know if you'll believe me." Charles said.
"Try me."
"Okay. I live in dreams here. A long time ago I was a cop in this town. I was killed by a man known as the Springwood Slasher. I was offered a chance to come back. These people are all my children now." Charles explained to her. Elle looked into his green eyes and saw truth in them. This man Charles was either telling the truth or believed he was telling the truth and in Elle's business those were pretty damn near the same things. Plus, his mention of the Slasher had piqued her interest. Her journalistic instincts were returning to her now, her mind returning to the familiar to escape the terror of the things she had just experienced.
"What do you know of the Slasher?" she asked him.
"Quite a bit, but I'm afraid I can't tell you." he answered. "I can give you hints. Leads that will take you to the people here who refused to forget."
"Why?" she asked Charles, suddenly suspicious."Why are you helping me? What have you got to gain?"
"Nothing, only the truth. Springwood has tried to erase the memory of the awful things that happened here. They let the Slasher get away." he said.
"Ask the young cop you met. He knows. The slasher was released soon after they caught him and disappeared." Charles told her.
"Officer Evans? He won't talk to me. I already tried" Elle said.
"You should go back, I think things might be a little different now." he said as his body started to phase in and out of existence,"I have to go now. I am going to take care of this "man". Please help me, help me uncover the truth."
"Wait!" Elle shouted. Charles didn't hear her. He had completely disappeared now. Ralph too was missing. The sweaty jumpsuit and congealing blood were the only testament to his precense here. Elle was glad. That man hadn't saved her. But he would have, she knew somehow. She hoped they never found that fat bastard Ralph. He deserved to rot in hell, and she was glad that Charles had helped him on his way.
Elle climbed off the bed and made her way towards the motel's bathroom, stepping over Ralph's belongings as she went. Looking in the dirty mirror she examined her face. Bloody, swollen lips below an ugly black eye. That motherfucker had done a number on her. Her bottom was sore and for a moment Elle wished that bastard was still here so she could kill him. Her torso was covered in bruised and Ralph had bit one of her nipples so hard that he had drawn blood. Elle shuddered and began crying softly. She lowered her head and felt her way to the toilet and began to vomit.
After Elle had finished throwing up dinner she jumped in the shower. She spent nearly an hour beneath its near-scalding spray trying to wash to filth off of her body and knowing that it was pointless. Still, the shower refreshed her, got her mind focused and allowed her to continue with the work at hand. Elle turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Elle yanked a towel from the rack and began patting herself down. When she was sufficiently dry she dressed quickly and left the motel room. She wanted to be as far away as possible. Elle started her car and drove away from the Paradise Inn Motel. She didn't look back.
It was fortunate for Elle that she didn't take any last peeks at the Paradise. Had she glimpsed its impending transformation, what was left of her sanity would have deteriorated. As Elle continued to add distance between herself and the motel, it began to change. Its neon sign exploded in a shower of sparks and the windows burst outwards in a flurry of glass. The earth itself seemed to shift beneath the Paradise as it turned into a very familiar looking Power Plant. Manaical laughing resounded from the innards of the building, as a naked and bloody Ralph Kimmons exited its gates.