Its funny how things can suddenly change. Our thoughts, our lives.. All are subject to change, at any given moment.
It’s strange thinking about it, talking about it, something I haven’t done before.
I mean, who would believe me, right? But for whatever reason, not sharing my story has been eating me up inside. I can’t sleep properly. I toss and turn and wake up wet with sweat.
I’m hoping this will take a weight off my shoulders, the burden of being the only one to know.
Max and I had been married for a year when we had our first big fight. Looking back now, I honestly can’t remember what it was even about. But, I forcefully packed my bags all the while crying and yelling in quick succession, while Max looked on, doing much the same.
He told me going to a motel for the night was stupid. We had a perfectly good couch he could sleep on, if I wanted.
But I didn’t want.
I glared at him and with as much strength as I could muster, grabbed my suitcase and disappeared out the door.
Bad moon rising was playing on the radio, I listened to the lyrics mindlessly for a moment and then I turned it off in frustration. Not a song I needed to hear at that stage, that was for sure.
I pulled out of the driveway, Max staring at me from the front porch. He looked sad. I wouldn’t meet his eye as I screeched away.
The first motel I came across looked like it could possibly be a rat infested dump. But I didn’t have a lot of cash, and as tired as I felt, I was sure I could fein the rats off for one night, should I need to.
The car park was mostly empty, and so was the front desk when I went in to the main building.
I rang the silver bell on the table, and looked around while I waited.
Run down, as I suspected, but no sign of rats. That was a good enough start.
The receptionist told me it was $35 for the night, which was even better than I had been anticipating. I handed over the cash and watched as the man grabbed a key from the massive keyboard in his office. Room 84.
The man smiled as he told me to enjoy my stay. His eyes took on a darker shade when he murmured to me to keep my door locked at all times, and no matter what I hear outside, to not come out.
I gave a sharp nervous laugh, waiting for the end of the joke, but the man remained silent, his eyes unwavering from mine.
I noticed a bead of sweat form on his forehead, and begin to run down his face.
“Umm.. Well. I mean, okay then? Any reason, or?” I kept my voice light, trying to imagine what sort of situation I could be possibly getting myself into.
“Wild cats, ma’am.” he cleared his throat, “Guests have reported hearing large cats fighting at night. We always recommend to stay inside while it’s dark out. Can never be too safe.”
“Yes, yes. Never too safe. Well, thanks for the heads up. I better be getting in.” I hastily made my way to my room, ignoring the odd splatters of what looked like blood along the pathway of the rooms. I was sure there was a plausible explanation, cleaning product spillage perhaps, but I wasn’t about to go and ask.
The argument had really taken it out of me, it was so emotionally exhausting, that even though I had such an odd encounter, I had no desire to call anyone to tell them about it, or go home to Max. I was just so tired, I needed to crawl into a bed and close my eyes.
My room itself, number 84, was not particularly bad. It wasn’t great either, the dust an inch long on every surface, I shuddered to think when the sheets may have been changed last.
But none the less, I was in, I’d made it. Musty sheets or not, I knew where I was headed.
The water in the shower was lukewarm at best, and it took everything inside me not to scream as the flimsy and cold shower curtain touched my skin randomly.
I heard what I thought was yelling, but when I turned the water off to hear better, it was quiet.
Probably hearing things, I considered, as I crawled under the sheets, my nerves were particularly frayed and on edge, especially after the receptionist had been so odd.
I fell asleep almost instantly, as soon as my heavy head hit the pillow.
I woke with a start, a strange, sharp, scratching at the door.
I held my breath, not sure what else to do apart from listen. I didn’t want to alert whatever that was, to the fact I was inside.
I was holding my breath so hard, that when I heard someone else’s sharp intake of breath, I nearly choked on the air I was so desperately holding in.
I was alone in my room.
I was supposed to be alone in my room.
The breaths were quicker now, heavy and labored. They sounded close, like right behind me close, but I was too afraid to look back.
My body went rigid as I felt a cold, slimy hand reach out to grasp my shoulder.
I shuddered through clenched teeth, tears streaming down my face, but I remained silent, and still.
The hand held me so tight, I could feel the bong fingers leaving bruises as it grasped harder and harder.
Until I couldn’t take the pain anymore, and I ripped my arm way, making my way to the front door.
The voice behind me was shrill, higher and deeper than possible at the same time, each word bounced around my head.
“If you go out there, you die.”
It was as if the words had disoriented me for a moment, I felt my head spin, my legs buckle. The hand was back on me, and in my mind I saw death everywhere outside, and the blood.. It didn’t just coat the floor, it coated the whole building.
But I didn’t believe the words, or the images I was seeing, I screamed as loud as I could and shoved hard, with all my might, pushing the arm off me and flinging whatever it was attached to across the room, where it landed against the wall with a heart thud.
I didn’t wait to see if it was okay. I didn’t look at it, to see what it was. I just left.
When I turned the doorknob, the first thing I noticed was how sunny the sky was.
I didn’t go to reception. I couldn’t.
I went straight to my car, my fast stride breaking into a jog as I got closer and closer to safety and security.
Once inside, I grabbed my phone from my pocket, and with trembling hands, turned it on.
My car idled as my phone came to life, and I went into contacts to call Max and tell him what the hell had just happened.
But his contact number wasn’t in my phone.
I didn’t have time to think, I had to get the hell out of dodge so to speak. I assumed something had gone wrong with my phone, I was literally just in some weird ass twilight shit, it made sense the electrical or whatever in my phone could be damaged.
I sped home so quickly,not caring about passing a cop. I didn’t want to stop for anyone, but if I was being pulled over by law enforcement, well I knew they could help me, somehow, at least.
Home, when I arrived, was quiet, seemingly empty. I hadn’t noticed Max’s car in the drive, so I thought he was at work. I mean, it made sense, it was a week day after all.
But once I ran a bath and went to grab some clean clothes to put on afterwards, I noticed that Max’s side of the closet was empty.
My heart began to race, and the tears threatened to fall. So., he had really left me? Packed all his stuff, and gone? No note or anything?
I was a bit crazy then. I went around opening draws, checking closests. Every single thing that belonged to Max, was gone.
And then I noticed something even stranger.
The photo of Max and I in Spain, our arms entwined and holding glasses of wine.
It was my favorite picture of us. But now, it was a photo of just myself. I was still holding the wine. I was still smiling, still in Spain. But I was alone in the photo.
As was I in every other photo that should’ve had Max in it. I was more than crazy by then, I was insane. I grabbed my phone and called my mum, who claimed to have never heard of Max. My best friend said similar, and asked if I was okay.
Nothing was making sense. I still had my wedding ring, the small gold band. But everything else… Everyone else.. It was like Max had never even existed.
I’ve already gone back to the Motel.
But when I went to pull into the same car park when I had been just the day before, there was no motel, just an empty, dilapidated building.
Now, well to be honest, I don’t know what to do.
No one remembers Max.
No one except for me, that is.
I don’t know what his disappearance could possibly have to do with my strange night at the motel, but I can’t help but feel they’re interconnected.
I don’t know where to ask, so I guess here’s as good as any place to try.
Have you heard of the Woodwind motel? Have you heard about the odd happenings there, about the bony handed creature who torments and steals loved ones from you?
I don’t know what I’ll do exactly, but I owe it to Max to keep trying. He’s out there, somewhere. My wedding ring tells me so.
And I’m going to find him.