The Monachkosville Mystery

The inner halls of the motel are no less dank than the ouside. Years of humidity have soaked into the concrete and wooden doorframes growing miniscule specks of mold. There's probably a deep infection within the walls of this place, but there's nowhere else for you to stay the night without getting serial murdered. Though, this place likely doesn't lower the chances of that happening by a very wide margin.

You make sure your footsteps are quiet as you round a particularly well lit corner. A service window, perhaps? Your suspicions are proven correct when you spot the very first human you've seen during your stay here. A young man with loose curls and a speckling of freckles on chestnut skin. He seems to be falling asleep. You must interrupt his dozing, though. You need a key to a room.

"'Scuse me." You step closer to the window, tapping on the glass before taking a step back. A bit of personal space is only respectful.

"Huh-- Yeah? You need somethin'?" The young man eyes you, rubbing his eyes and adjusting to sit properly in his chair. He stands to make his way to a filing cabinet in the tiny office. A tiny corkboard with hanging keys shifts with his every step. Seems like he's already undergoing whatever registry procedure is necessary. If he's at all familiar with the rest of this town's residents, he would recognize you as an outsider.

"Here. Sign all this, and I'll get you a key."

"How did you--" You protest, reaching for the pen provided as you do so.

"My dad would've told me if anyone new had moved in." He doesn't elaborate, watching you sign your name and the details of your stay on the provided papers, and handing you your room key soon after. You decide to take your leave, giving the young man a small wave as you head to your car to grab your supplies. This'll be a long night.


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