Norman Bates Motel Novels & Stories

parking lot, I receive a text message from Zeke. “Booking confirmed. Keeley will come to you @ 17:30. Reservation @ Motel 5 on Hollywood Blvd under Jessa Monroe. Text back when you have the room number.” I relay the information to Mary Sue, who rolls her eyes and responds, “Motel 5. Great. The hotel that makes Motel 6 look like the Ritz Carlton.”

Grace in the arms of her daughter, he asked calmly, "Peach, what is the location of this motel?" As tears ran from her beautiful, brown eyes, she replied weakly, "505... 505 West 6th Street." "505 West 6th Street. Paz motel! Please hurry." James said, hanging up the phone and turning back to look at Elijah and frowned at him with disappointment in his eyes. Dodging the punch Germa swung at him, Matt ducked under his swing and grabbed him by the shirt collar, slamming him in the nose with his elbow, sending him flying to the ground as blood poured from his nose.

The meeting room was cold. The air conditioning was on full blast as the summer had officially begun a week prior with high temperatures virtually unknown by northwestern Montana. That room was the last place I wanted to be, but it wasn't because of the chilled air that came through the vents overhead. I could still see where the pool of blood had blemished the concrete floor where an unconscious Bates had laid two weeks earlier. It looked like someone had tried to scrub it with bleach, but a deep maroon stain was still visible.

Cheap motels and rotten reapers Ellis suggested the Super 8 motel off the highway. "They have a free breakfast of coffee and stale leftovers from the Sugar Shack bakery," he sighed and I clapped, saying yummy. He shook his head as I held his waist. I told him to close his eyes as I transported us to the hidden side of the hotel. I glanced around and gritted my teeth realizing we were in the reaper Lestat's area. He and my mother had a long heated spat over what I didn't know nor care. I told Ellis that he needed to acquire the room for us and he smiled happily and said certainly. I watched him enter the lobby and frowned slightly seeing another guy with a gun in his pocket. Spying Lestat, I

‘We can get a motel in this town, or if we get back on the road, we can reach the next town by nightfall? ‘I think the sooner we get back home, the better, so let’s get back on the road and get to the next town.’ ‘As long as I get a bath today, I don’t care.’ Nina says, looking down at her dirty arms and legs. We reach the next town just at nightfall and enter the motel. I pay for two rooms next to each other. They both have a single bed and a double in each room, with a bathroom attached to each room.

This is his second shot on finding whatever the hell happened twelve years ago, he is not about to let go to waste. Sebastian stares at the motel feeling a little less like home but that is all he can manage for now. On the outside of it stands a group of girls dressed in summer dress, and high boots. A few meters to their right are some bikers forever in their dirty sleeveless tops and leather trousers. Their indistinct long dusty beards force them to stand out from the rest of the crowd making their way past the motel. Sebastian feels the need to double check the lock of his car before making his way towards the building. The building is a small one with a flashy signpost and motel visibl

Natalie asked upon noticing a drip and the pale face of the person lying on the bed. "She was under general anaesthesia and is fighting nausea. As long as you talk about food, she will vomit, so better leave." Mike wanted to get his sister out of his workplace as soon as possible at any cost. "Sis, you don't like watching patients vomit, do you?" He added ironically, slowly leaning his back against his armchair. He furrowed his brows, darting his gaze from the screen to Natalie’s face. "Fuck off! I am not leaving."

"Guys we should get out of this cold weather before we catch colds. I have spoken to the owner of the motel. The earliest we can get a mechanic is tomorrow." "Not to make things worse but I saw on the weather news that a storm is due any moment and may last through the night. We have no choice but to stay here." Courtney added. We walked into the dingy motel. It's dark and eerie with ugly floral wallpaper. The old woman at the reception looked at us strangely. "Yeah?" She's chewing gum in a sloppy way. "We need rooms for the night. Two will suffice with two beds in each." "Two beds in each? Trouble in paradise?" She gazed between each of us as she lowered her glasses.

The motel is a shithole on the edge of town, the kind of place where people come to disappear—sometimes permanently. Yellow crime scene tape flutters in the night breeze, barely keeping the stench of rot and drug inside. Local cops mill around, throwing irritated glances at the federal agents invading their territory. I push past them all. Nobody tries to stop me. The room stinks of cheap whiskey and death. Carlos Ramos lies sprawled on the bed, a gaping hole where the back of his head used to be, blood splattered against the peeling wallpaper. The gun is still clutched in his stiff fingers.

I try to get up from the table, but the mobster stops me. “I need you in this business, love—espabilo—, Erick, I need you to arm some bombs for Gian Lucas's whorehouse; love, you will be my bait, I need you to seduce the new boss in charge of the place. Italian asshole stole my merchandise and I want it back.” He wants to bring down the night club with them inside. Damn son of a bitch! ********