Decadence

The man walked aimlessly around the streets of Brenwood, shivering from the cold. He needed a place to stay. His eyes caught sight of a faltering blue sign. He sighed, but since no other establishment was in his view, stepped inside.

Apprehensively, the blonde stepped inside and scratched at his stubble. Looking for a desk or reception of sorts, he turned his head.

As he stepped inside, he cringed. The air was tension filled, and silent apart from the blaring of the TV, obviously showing some sports match.

“I never really liked sports…” The man said to himself, as the door shut behind him.

The man behind the desk leaned back his head and scowled, “What?”

The blonde shuddered again, “You don’t happen to have any rooms vacant, do you?”

The dark-skinned man waved a hand dismissively at the key rack, “one room left. Consider yourself lucky.”

The blonde smiled sadly, “thank you. How much for three nights?”

“£85 a night.”

“Okay. That works.” The blond said, placing £85 on the table and stepping away, looking around the room.

Suddenly, a shout rang through the room. Heads turned.“YES! YES! YES!!!” The hatted man shouted, “ONE SCORE FOR BRENWOOD!” Everyone chattered for a moment but the odd silence soon returned.

A woman rose from her seat and stood in front of the blonde man, smiling awkwardly.

“Sorry about Dom.” The woman with red glasses said, apologetically. “He’s very involved with his sports.” She smiled.

“It’s okay.” The blonde muttered, “I’m used to sports fanatics.” He bit his lip nervously.

The woman offered out a hand, “the names Atlanta. Atlanta Jones.” Her eyes shimmered slightly as they caught the light.

“I’m Lucas.” The blonde smiled.

“No last name, then?” Atlanta said, in a friendly but teasing manner.

“Nah.” Luca smiled, “for all I could know you could secretly be a stalker, after my blood and all that.”

Atlanta rolled her eyes, “I’m not a vampire.”

“You sure you don’t sparkle in the sunlight?” Lucas said, mockingly.

“Don’t tempt me.” Atlanta laughed.

Atlanta punched Lucas playfully on the shoulder, “anyway, you want the grand tour of this ever so fancy establishment?” Atlanta said, in a mock posh accent.

“That would be most lovely, m’lady.” Lucas said, also mocking a posh accent.

“Well, this is the lounge/reception/hang out area.” Atlanta said, gesturing broadly around the dilapidated room.

“And that?” Lucas said, pointing at the door.

“Oh. That leads to the back. It’s got a pond, a chess set a tree and a chair. Yeah. It’s interesting.”

“Can I see it?” Lucas asked.

“Sure… but I don’t know why you would want to… eh. What am I to judge?” Atlanta stepped outside.

“Well, this is outside.” Atlanta said.

“Who are they?” Lucas said, pointing around the garden.

“Oh, well…”

“Oh. That’s old Bertha. She’s the maid here. Really silent. Supposedly been here since the town was founded.”

“When was the town founded?”

“Way back in 1941.” Atlanta muttered.

“70 years ago?”

“Yeah. I think Bertha was born here, to be honest. Never left the motel, though. Married the old landlord for a bit. Had a kid, I think. Apparently the kid ran away or something. I honestly don’t know. She never really speaks about it. Or at all, really.”

“Yeah, and over there is Greyson with Mary. Greyson’s the dog. Just turned up one day. Mary took him in. She always was the motherly figure around here.”

“Cute dog.” Lucas said, smiling.

“Yeah. The poor thing won’t do anything with anyone but Mary. One time Mary was ill, poor dog just sat by her, didn’t eat or anything.”

“And this would be your room.” Atlanta said, pointing at the pale wooden door.

“And what’s through the brown door?” Lucas smiled.

“The kitchen. Nothing big, you’ll see it soon enough.” Atlanta said. “Better claim your door, though.”

“And this is the best floor: the one with my room!” Atlanta said, smiling widely.

“And who’s room is that?” Lucas said, pointing at the darker wood door.

“Oh. That’s Anwar’s room. He never really leaves it. The times I have seen him, he’s not really said much. Pretty much keeps to himself, I suppose.”

“Oh, okay.” Lucas said, his interest perked.

“And this is my room!” Atlanta smiled, and pointed around

“How the hell did you get a piano up here?” Lucas laughed.

“Magic.” Atlanta said and winked.

“Hey, Atlanta?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s that?” He pointed at the skull candle.

“It’s a bit creepy, isn’t it?” Lucas muttered.

“I suppose,” Atlanta said, shrugging.

“Where’d you get it?”

“It just turned up at my door one day. Went out for shopping, and it was… there.”

“You think it’s real…?”

“I should hope not…” Atlanta muttered.

“Anyway,” Lucas said, turning, “It’s late, I should get to sleep…”

“Oh. Okay.” Atlanta smiled, “sweet dreams.”

“You too.” Although I don’t know how… with that skull by her bed and all…

“Bye.” Atlanta waved, and shut the door.

In his room, Lucas spotted the days newspaper.

“Serial killers…?” Lucas muttered. He went to pick up the paper.

“’The Vampire’ as media has dubbed him has struck once more. The two week old, decapitated and blood-drained body of twenty-two year old Danielle Jackson was found yesterday.

After searching through her apartment, police found, apparently, what seemed to be the skinned and decapitated head of the body of Georgia Harp, the first victim, with a candle made of her wax and blood melted onto the scalp of the skull.

Police are continuing searches to find Danielle Jackson’s head, but so far, searches have been unsuccessful.”

“Oh -crap.”