A yawn washed over me as I took my eyes off the road for a moment to check the time on the dashboard; 11:45 PM was lit up in washed-out green numbers. I moved my eyes back to the road, watching for a motel sign. Luckily, there was one just ahead on the left. I pulled into the driveway of the motel parking lot and almost cleaned myself up by driving into the back of a massive yellow school bus. Something in my old truck made a grinding noise as I swerved into a parking spot and rolled my eyes at the bus driver's horrible parking.
I turned off my engine and looked up at the turquoise neon sign that lit up the parking lot: 'Glen Capri Motel.' I raised an eyebrow and hopped out of my truck.
My boots crunched on the uneven gravel as I made my way to the front office. A cool breeze blew by; the smell of dirt and the faintest hint of decay lingered on. A bell chimed above my head as I stepped through the glass door. A red-haired girl slipped past me quickly, her arms wrapped tightly around a set of new towels. I walked over to the counter and rang the bell.
"Just a single room for the night," I replied. She smiled at me and turned around to grab a room key for me.
"It's $40 for the night; check-out is at 11. The café opens at 7 for breakfast, or if you're hungry now, there's a 24-hour diner about a 5-minute walk from here."
I nodded, reaching down to the pocket of my worn-out jeans and pulled out my well-loved leather wallet and handed her $50. She handed me the key and went to give me the change. I simply shook my head and said, "Tip," as I walked out and back over to my truck.
I flung open my truck door and grabbed my travel duffel bag and slung it over my shoulder before locking the door and heading towards my room.
I pushed open the redwood door to the room and looked around; it was generic Motel 6 vibes. A puke-green comforter splayed across the double bed, brown-stained wood grain panelled walls, white ceramic lamps sat on brown night tables either side of the bed. I walked in further, kicking the door closed with my foot; the bed springs squeaked under the weight of my bag as I threw it on the bed and headed straight for the shower.
I opened the bathroom door, and again it was ordinary for a highway motel. I walked over to the shower/tub and pulled back the plastic black and white zig-zag shower curtain and turned on the water. I stood there for a moment, adjusting the temperature but somehow unable to get the water at a comfortable temperature; I decided to just get it over with and kicked off my boots before stripping down and hopping in.
The water washed over my body, relieving the tension in my neck from the long drive from Iowa to California. I watched the water flow down my body as I shampooed my hair. My hair hadn't been washed since before the Djinn fight, and I could feel the difference as I lathered it with the complimentary shampoo.
After washing my hair out, I just stood there watching the water flow down the drain. I had no idea how long I'd been standing there, but I decided it was time to get out, so I turned off the taps and stood there while the excess water ran off my body.
I stepped out of the shower and walked back into the room to my bag. I unzipped it and grabbed my towel before wrapping it around my body. I dug through the bag once more to find a set of comfortable clothes. I started to dry off quickly when I noticed the greenish-yellow bruise on my ribs was healing from the fight with the Djinn.
I quickly threw my clothes on before proceeding to dig around for my wallet until I remembered it was in my back pocket of my pants. I returned to the bathroom to gather my clothes when my stomach growled and churned. I decided then and there I needed a meal; I grabbed my jacket and slid it on as I walked towards the door.
I looked over my shoulder before running back to the bed and slid my stun gun into the back of my jeans. 'Better safe than sorry,' I thought to myself as I pulled the red door closed behind me; it locked with a click. I jogged across the car park back to the front office, once again the bell above my head chimed as I entered the small office.
I rang the bell that sat on the dark brown counter. "Be with you in a minute," the old woman called from the back; I looked around the small office as I waited. There was a number that sat at 201; it, for some reason, had me thinking why the number could be important.
The shuffling of feet made me turn away from the number and to the woman as she came through a beaded curtain, her eyes followed back to the number. "Curious huh?" She asked. I pursed my lips and shrugged. "I've just never seen something like that in a highway hotel."
"Yeah, it's a bit morbid, an inside joke my husband likes to keep up there," She said, moving her eyes between me and the number. "What kind of joke?" I asked her. She smiled eerily at me. "Well, as you can see, we aren't exactly the Ritz, but we are first in one regard. This motel is one of the biggest suicide motels in California." A shiver crept up my spine; her demeanour was so calm it weirded me out.
"You mentioned earlier there's a diner around, which way was it again?" I asked, trying to change the subject and shake the creepy feeling surrounding me. She smiled once again. "Just go across the car park and around to the back side of the building, and you should be able to see it." I just smiled and thanked her.
I took off out the door as quick as I could; thankful to be out of there after that interaction. The night air caressed against my skin as I headed in the direction I was given, my boots tapped softly while I walked across the car park.
Hopping the gutter onto the walkway, I quietly hummed 'Hungry Eyes' by Eric Carmen to myself and thought about what food I wanted. Suddenly there was a crunch under my boot. I looked down to see broken glass all over the ground. I spun left and then right, and I just saw a vending machine without its display glass.
Shrugging to myself, I looked around and didn't see anyone, so I leaned over and snagged two packets of Twizzlers. I shoved them in my jacket pocket and walked off between the two buildings. The wind blew a little harder on this side of the building. Once again, the smell of dirt and decay hung around in my nose; miniature sandstorms tore across the red desert floor as I made my way toward the well-lit up diner a few hundred meters away.
The smell of rust and gasoline joined in the bouquet of dirt and decay as I got closer to the diner. Two old pickup trucks and three big rig trucks sat in the car park. The smell of coffee and bacon invaded my senses as I stepped inside the small 50's style diner.
The waiter glanced over his shoulder and called, "I'll be with you in just a minute." I gave him a wave and sat down at an empty booth. I picked up a menu and scanned it; everything seemed to be calling my name all at once; my mouth started to salivate.
My caveman brain just decided on a simple cheeseburger with a side salad and French fries. I placed the menu down and crossed my arms just as the waiter walked up. "Hey there, my name's Dom, and I'll be your server this evening," he said as he fished out his order book, his dark hair hanging over most of his face. He finally looked at me, and I recognized him almost immediately.
"Dominic Harper, right?" I asked him as he tilted his head at the mention of his last name. I rolled my eyes. "Theo Stilinski, we took down three vampires in Poughkeepsie. Like 2 years ago. Bobby Singer's niece," I said to refresh his memory; recognition crossed his face.
"Right, the vampire hunt. Well, it's good to see you again, Theo. What can I get you to eat?" I smiled and placed my order, "A cheeseburger, side salad, and fries, please. And a coffee if you have it."
Dom noted down my order and headed to the kitchen, promising to return with my meal shortly. As I waited in the cozy, retro diner, I couldn't help but think about the strangeness that seemed to follow me on my road trip. First, the unsettling encounter at the Glen Capri Motel, and now meeting an old acquaintance in the middle of nowhere.
When Dom returned with my food and coffee, we chatted for a bit. I told him about my journey and my impending destination, which seemed to surprise him. "Is there ever such a thing as a normal life once you know what's really out there?" he asked as he gathered up my plate and cutlery.
I simply shrugged my shoulders. "All I know is that when you find out, you can't really turn away from it." I finished up with taking a slice of blueberry pie and settled the bill. I couldn't shake the feeling that Beacon Hills was going to be quite an adventure. It was time to continue my journey and find out what this "normal" life was all about.
I walked through the dimly lit area between the diner and motel, my footsteps echoing in the quiet surroundings. The world around me had settled into a serene hush, the only sounds being the soft chirping of crickets and the occasional distant rumble of a passing car in the distance. The stars shimmered above, a mesmerizing tapestry of distant worlds. I craned my neck to take in the vastness of the cosmos, feeling a sense of wonder and humility.
Amid the tranquil solitude, I lingered there for a moment, connecting with the universe in a way that only a night sky can inspire. The stars, like ancient beacons, illuminated my path and whispered secrets of the cosmos, inviting me to ponder the mysteries of the universe. I slipped between the two buildings and jogged across the car park, I finally reached my room, slipping the key into the lock and pushing the door open.
The room was bathed in a soft, warm light, casting a cozy glow that contrasted with the coolness of the night outside. After a long day of travel, I was ready to rest.
I gently placed the leftover pie in the motel room's small, humming fridge, the cold air washing over me as I closed the door. With a sigh, I dragged my feet over to the modest bed, its soft sheets inviting me to rest. I lay down, staring up at the white, textured ceiling. Memories of my mother, her laughter and wisdom, flooded my thoughts. Her absence weighed heavily on my heart, and as I lay there, her voice echoed in my mind. Slowly, as the distant hum of the fridge provided a lullaby, I drifted off to sleep, finding solace in the dreams that would bring me closer to her once again.
In the eerie depths of my dreamscape, I found myself in a place that was both familiar and nightmarish. I was no longer the 16-year-old I had become, but a 6-year-old child again. The room around me, once my childhood bedroom, was now a sinister playground for my darkest fears. Innocent toys and cherished stuffed animals had turned grotesque, their eyes glowing with malevolence as they watched me with a silent accusation. The nightlight, which had once cast a comforting glow, now flickered ominously.
Suddenly, from the corners of the room, shadows began to emerge, like ink stains seeping into my childhood haven. They twisted and contorted, taking on monstrous forms that resembled grotesque amalgamations of creatures from my wildest nightmares or most real-life encounters.
"Theodora," they hissed, their voices echoing with a sickening sweetness, like a corrupted lullaby.
Terror gripped my whole being as I darted away, my small feet barely making a sound on the wooden floor. But the shadows pursued me relentlessly, their looming figures darkening the room further. My breath came in ragged gasps as I scrambled to escape the tormentors.
"Theodora," they whispered again, each repetition intensifying my fear. Their voices swirled around me like a cruel vortex, my own name becoming a nightmarish chant. I reached the hallway, but it seemed to stretch endlessly, growing longer and more labyrinthine with each step. I felt my small legs weaken, my feet no longer carrying me with the same speed.
Desperation welled up in me as I turned to the closed door of my mother's room, seeking refuge in the comfort of her presence. But as I reached for the doorknob, it disintegrated into ashes, leaving me with nothing but voided emptiness. The shadows, now at my heels, reached out with long, gnarled fingers, barely brushing against my trembling skin. Their cruel voices crescendo, threatening to drown me in a sea of fear.
"Theodora," they taunted me, their voices a cacophony of malice.
With a scream, I was consumed by the shadows, my childish nightmares becoming a cruel reality. I was trapped in a torment of my own making, pursued by shadows that knew my name, and haunted by the fear that had never truly left me since my childhood.
Shooting straight up from the pillow that my head rested on, my scream filled the empty space in the motel, my arms could no longer hold my weight as I fell back on to damp sheets, my body shook as my chest heaved with every inhale. My heart beat wildly against my ribcage as though it contained a swarm of angry bees. My fingers gripped the sheets to anchor and remind myself that this was the waking world where those beasts of darkness had no power, the remnants of the nightmare hung on the edge of my subconscious like the cobwebs that refused to be cleaned. I moved a shaky hand to move the hair that clung to my forehead before I threw back my sheets and swung my legs over the side, standing up I walked over to the window. The first rays of the days sun were trickling in through the small gaps of the curtian, rubbing the sleep from my eyes; I just decided to get on with the day.
I went to splash my face in the bathroom but ended up cringing at my hair in the harsh lights of the motel bathroom. The fluorescent bulbs cast a cold, unflattering glow that made my reflection look even worse than I felt. My red waves were a tangled mess, and dark circles shadowed my eyes. I ran my hands through the unruly strands, pulling them into a low ponytail.
Determined to shake off the remnants of the nightmare, I headed out to the diner where a familiar bell above the door chimed as I entered, and the aroma of fresh coffee and frying bacon greeted me. I slid into a booth and ordered a black coffee, letting the warmth of the cup and the caffeine wake me up fully. After a few quiet moments to gather myself, I finished my coffee, paid the bill, and walked back to the motel.
Back in my room, I grabbed my things and headed to the office to hand in my keys. As I stepped outside, the morning air was crisp and refreshing, a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere of the motel room. I walked to my truck, ready to leave this place behind when I heard someone yell "STILINSKI"