My husband was found hanging from the rafters in a burnt-down motel room.
The police told me it was likely ‘autoerotic asphyxiation’ gone wrong. I call total bullshit on that explanation. They found him tied to a rafter, three feet off the ground, with not a chair or stepladder in sight. My husband was a lot of things, but he certainly wasn’t athletic enough to pull off that kind of feat.
I know there is more to his death. Someone or something killed him. I just don’t know what.
To give a little background, days before his death he had been fired from his work for sexually harassing three of his female coworkers. If that wasn’t enough, I ended up discovering text messages between him and some webcam model. They had been talking for months and he had paid over five grand on her live shows! When I confronted him, he snapped and went berserk. I told him to get the fuck out and he left with only the clothes on his back, his phone, and his wallet. In a bitter rage, I ended up canceling all of his credit cards.
Oddly enough, I ended up getting in contact with the webcam model after news broke of his death. Well, actually, she ended up contacting me through Instagram of all places. She seemed really spooked by their last interaction. Similar to me, she felt his death was suspicious.
He had called her the night of his death to let her know he found a motel for them to meet at. He called it the Roseblood Motel. She did a quick Google search on the location he gave her and nothing came up. The only motel in that area was a Motel 6 which had burned down years prior.
She told me he was adamant the motel was called Roseblood. He described the building to her in vivid detail. He begged and pleaded for her to come to visit him. She, undoubtedly, was unnerved by his demeanor and the fact the motel he was claiming to be at didn’t seem to exist. She hung up on him and that was the last time they ever spoke.
We later came to find that my daughter was actually the last person to ever speak to him. He had called, I’m assuming, after the model no longer returned his calls. My daughter answered the call and let me know he wanted to speak to me. I told her to tell him I had nothing to say. Childish of me, I know, but I just couldn’t bear to hear his voice. After she told him that I didn’t want to hear from him, he went off on her, screaming and yelling into the phone.
When I saw my daughter tearfully run to her room, I grabbed the phone. I was about to give him an earful but realized he was no longer holding the phone in his hand. He must have tossed it to the side as he sounded far off.
He was speaking to someone, a female from the sound of it. I assumed it was his model friend. The longer they spoke, the more…demonic the woman’s voice became. I can’t really describe it better than that. It was just unnatural. Unnerving. God, I can still hear her voice in my head at night.
I couldn’t really make out what she was saying to him. It sounded like she was talking to him about a cocktail hour and going to a lounge of some sort. He seemed to initially reject whatever she was offering, but she sounded relentless…determined. Finally, he agreed to do whatever it was she wanted and that’s when the call went dead.
At the time, I was so boiling mad I didn’t even try to call him back. It wasn’t until a full day had passed and he didn’t try returning home or calling that I started to get concerned. I called his cell at least a hundred times the following twelve hours until finally I called the police.
They asked me if I knew his last known location. Oddly enough, it didn’t dawn on me until that moment to look at the family tracking app we had installed. I told him I wanted it on his phone for his safety, but truthfully it was to monitor his activity.
I pulled up the app and there his tag was, right at that old Motel 6. Just like the model would end up confirming days later. I informed the cops who went to investigate and the rest is history.
Now, here I sit, with so many unanswered questions. Why did he do this to our family? Why did he think he was at a Roseblood Motel? What is the Roseblood Motel? Who was the woman I heard on the phone? Why did she sound so demonic? Why can I not get her voice out of my head?!
I saw my husband’s story on the Nextdoor app and someone on there had mentioned he was a victim of the Roseblood Manor curse. Does anyone know what that is? I can’t seem to find anything about it on Google. If anyone on here knows anything, let me know.
With the dozens of questions I have, there is only one thing I know for a fact. My husband DID NOT kill himself.
But, if he didn’t kill himself…who killed him?
I’m going to go to the motel to check things out. There’s got to be answers there.