Norman Bates Motel Novels & Stories

I looked at him and I know that he is still thinking if he will let us in or not. “P500.00 for just thirty minutes” I offered while still giving him the money. He scratched his head again and looked around and accepted the money secretly that I was giving him. “ I will wait here outside… make it fast,” He said “Just for thirty minutes” He reminded us and he gave the key to Devon. “Thank you,” Devon said. The caretaker opened the gate and we went inside. He lit a cigarette from his pocket and started smoking while waiting for us.

I exclaim as I admire the lighthouse, I haven’t seen one so glorious in years. As I keep driving, I eventually find the old motel that the woman was talking about at the gas station. The sign is barely lit up, but it does say vacancy and open, so I drive up and park my car in the lot by the office. The minute I walk up to the door, I hear a booming voice that says, “I hope you aren’t planning on staying here tonight. We are full and we don’t like your kind around here.” I turn around to see a tall man of about six and a half feet stare me straight in the eyes and I say, “Yes, I do and what do you mean by my kind?” My voice starts to strain as I force it to sound a bit mean.

"Let's stop at the motel." Calvin was silent. Hazel didn't reply at all, but she could clearly see a motel plaque—Greenwell Motel, the only motel standing in that secluded spot with its lights half dimmed with age. Obviously he couldn't expect a luxury hotel like the Ritz Carlton and the like in this place. But even though the motel looked unconvincing, he hoped to find hot coffee and a hot shower to relax his tense body from driving. “The motel is dingy, but lots of cars are coming.”

The feeling that they had stopped woke Cassie from her nap. Cracking her neck from side to side to eradicate the kinks, she eyed the scene before her in confusion and wondered if it were a dream. The neon flashing vacancy sign for the Starlight Motel advertised per hour rates at a place that was a windy day away from demolition. Two floors of weathered doors with cast iron railing along the length stood out against the peeling paint and ratty shingles. An all-night diner on one end illuminated the parking lot which was strangely full.

‘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.

We stopped a block away from the motel just incase there were people put in place by Nathan to watch Yoké. But we could see the motel from here. It was a cheap old building. So cheap that the light of the ‘M’ in ‘Motel was flickering so bad that you’d think it would just die any moment. “So what will happen is you’ll give me Nathan’s phone so that when I get in, I can ask him which room number he is at.” The woman half turned to talk to me.

Mikayla led Jason down the hall, her anxiety momentarily replaced by a fragile hope, now that Jason was going to pay for her mom's medical expenses. They stopped outside Room 214. Taking a deep, shaky breath, Mikayla pushed the door open. “Come in,” she invited Jason. Inside, the room was small, bathed in the muted light from a single window. Lying in the bed, pale and frail, was a woman in her middle ages, clearly in pain. Her breathing was shallow, and her brow was furrowed with discomfort. This was Lady Norman. "Mom?" Mikayla whispered, stepping closer.

The motel where Jason was last seen was in the dirtiest corner of East Oklahoma surrounded by rusting trailer parks, broken windows, and drug-fueled ghosts. I drove myself. No convoy. No noise. My car’s engine rumbled low as I coasted into the parking lot of the "Star Inn." Neon lights blinked overhead like a dying heart. A cracked vending machine hummed outside Room 12. I parked. Killed the engine. Slid the Glock from my coat and stepped out. Room 12 was dark. The door was shut. Curtains drawn. No movement inside. But I wasn’t fooled. I didn’t walk up like a stranger. I moved like a predator. Quiet. Controlled.

"Wanted urgently! Marketing Associate for the Motel. Send your application and resume to lovelanemotel@geemail.com. Benefits: Competitive pay and housing." “Housing?” But the Geemail account made her scoff. Add to that, the ad was on a chalkboard. She'd bet competitive pay here meant a pittance, not more than what her current job offered. She raised her head to look at the building. "Guess you could call this a one-star hotel-" "It's a Motel! Mo. Tel." A man's voice spoke from beside her.

"we need to leave now nadir our flight is in two minutes we are being called in" jason pulls nadir towards himself walking into the airport waving norman off as their guards also follow behind, norman leans in on her seat in the car, "where to ma'm?" "the pub i'm drinking out today" "yes ma'am" norman sighs out loud it can't be it must not be, could it possibly be the same xyla? what are the odds? several questions storms into norma's mind,