Novelas y relatos de Motel Of The Mysteries

unreliable. "I didn't know the downtown was so close to such a colony." My voice was softer than before. There were barely any people around, except for us four. That was until Jacob Fenris met up with a mob...right outside of an eerie-looking motel. The hunks looked exactly like they'd say in the movies. Huge, tattooed and an unsettling aura around them. Their gazes filled with venom, potent enough to poison even the most saintly of them all. "This is bad," he muttered, knowing something.

Matt I pulled up to the motel and turned off the engine. The red neon sign flickered in the darkness, and light spilled from the small office where an old woman sat knitting. Lights were on in three of the rooms, but the curtains were closed. The motel was a few towns over from the Crescent compound. We moved every week, picking a new place to stay. We didn’t want them to find us. They knew we were watching them if their increased patrols were any sign. Someone knocked on the window, and my muscles tensed. Seth leaned down to look at me, his brow furrowed.

“What is the name of the motel?” “I don’t know, it was something like sunlight, please. I’m begging you," he gasped. “Think harder.” I pressed. "Alright, it was Sunrise. Sunrise Motel—that's the name, I swear.” He rushed his words. I let go of him and pulled him back in. I threw him on the floor and kicked him in the ribs. He groaned and curled up in pain.

No delays. Every second matters. If she’s still there… Please. Please let me not be too late. The motel appears just before dawn. Its faded sign leans sideways, one of the letters hanging by a single rusted bolt. TRIO A GLES MOTEL. The n has fallen off. The windows are shattered. Paint peels from every wall. Nature has begun reclaiming the building. Connor studies it. “This place hasn’t been operating for years.” “I don’t care.” I climb out before the vehicle fully stops. My wolf presses against my skin, desperate to shift. To hunt.

He just looked at me through the glass with that flat, patient expression he always wore when he already knew how something was going to end. The motel was called 'THE PINEVIEW. The sign had one working letter. A woman behind the desk with reading glasses on a chain handed out keys like she had done it a thousand times in a snowstorm. Which she had. The town was small and the highway closed every winter. We took twelve rooms, thirteen players, coach, the trainer, three press people including me. I got my key. It read room 9. I walked down the exterior corridor with my bag, snow collecting on my shoulders, and found the door.

The other half was long gone, while the only half standing on the head of its wooden pole only had the E that ended whatever the name was supposed to be, then motel. Roy stepped onto the porch of what could have easily been called E motel according to its half-torn sign and said “I know he didn’t look like much, but Kit is a sort of leader here. His men found them too.” With that, Roy opened the creaking wooden door for Maxwell and Maxwell entered despite his reservations. The stale, stank air in the lobby of the motel was enough to make anyone gag. Almost immediately, he could hear the train-hooting sound of a snore coming from behind the counter.

Ashley killed the engine and I let out a sigh. I would’ve preferred a penthouse suite with glass walls, Egyptian cotton sheets, and room service with French wine. Not… whatever this was. Michael yawned as he came down, stretching his arms. He unbuckled Henry and brought his out of thr car. Michael glanced at me with a tired smile. “This place will do for the night. It’s not much, but it's enough.” “Enough?” I repeated, looking at the stained stucco walls of the motel. “This place looks like it’s one flickering bulb away from becoming a crime scene.”

Broken Pieces James pov The Blue Moon Motel sat like a forgotten relic on the edge of Highway 49, its neon sign flickering weakly in the gray morning light. Three hundred miles from Silverstone territory, it existed in the liminal space between pack lands—neutral ground where supernatural beings could rest without fear of territorial disputes or political

It was ridiculous — us running through the rain like a pair of idiots after spending the morning signing divorce papers. By the time the faint glow of a neon sign came into view through the rain. SECRET HAVEN, the sign read with pink neon little hearts around, my teeth were chattering. The building itself looked like something straight out of a horror movie — peeling paint, flickering sign, and located in the middle of nowhere. “Charming,” I muttered. “A LOVE motel you mean.” and a really ass one at that. “It'll do,” Alex said, leading the way inside.

“Before you ask your next question, yes it was the motel with all the kidnappings and killings. No, the motel is not haunted. No, I do not give interviews. It is just a motel now. Does that clear anything up for you?” “Hmm.. just a motel.. without the murder? Where is the fun in that?” The voice asks before giving a sinister cackle. Okay, then.. weird. “Look, did you want to make a reservation or what?” Owen finally asks. He was tired of all the back and forth, wanting the person to say what the want or to hang the phone up. He was too tired for all of the games. “No, but don't worry about it, Owen. But you will be seeing me very soon..”