Norman Bates Motel Novels & Stories

But every light inside dimmed sharply for a split second before returning to normal. Several guests glanced upward uneasily. Then the elevator stopped moving. The gaming streamer frowned. “Uh… are we stuck?” Before anyone could answer, the overhead speaker crackled softly. [Midnight check-in begins in ten minutes.] The voice sounded distorted, wrong somehow. A second later, every phone inside the elevator buzzed simultaneously. Winona pulled hers out slowly. A new notification covered the screen. WELCOME TO MIDNIGHT HOTEL. FIRST RULE: DO NOT OPEN YOUR DOOR AFTER 12 A.M. NO MATTER WHO IS KNOCKING. Below the message was one final line. SURVIVE UNTIL MORNING.

The "Grand Horizon Penthouse" this was not. The Starlight Motel was a sun-bleached, three-story brick eyesore located two blocks down from Sparks Design Studio. Its neon sign buzzed with a erratic, dying hum, dropping the 'S' so it read 'tarlight Motel' in a sickly shade of pink. Inside Room 214, the linoleum floor was slightly warped near the radiator, the bathroom mirror had a faint diagonal crack in the corner, and the single window overlooked an alley full of green dumpsters and stray cats.

When Six got the call from Jason, we weren’t too far past Nashville so it was an easy flip around. The motel we pulled up to was an improvement over the usual shitholes Six stayed at. The upkeep was going on, and it didn’t look like meth heads were around. The two-story building was older, but the white paint was in good condition, the roof jet black, and the asphalt had a recent layer added. “Nice motel. I was really starting to get afraid of what STDs I was going to pick up in the cesspools you like,” I said as Six pulled into a parking spot.

She types in the internet code that is listed on the small brochure inside the room. Within minutes she is browsing many articles on the internet about the Sleepy Oak motel and all the disappearances and murders that happened here years ago. Clicking a news article from a local news website, she reads it quickly. It tells how Nate and Dave Matthews kidnapped, raped, tortured and murdered nearly twenty women over a span of two decades. How they tried to kidnap a woman on Christmas Eve and tried to murder her husband and kids.

I'm an unlucky bitch. - No bitch... Unlucky yes. Ben continued to tease me. - Ben, I'm going to kill you! I ran after him, who took a chair and placed it in front of him, as a form of defense: - Babi... I accept that you kill me ... But first I need to tell you something... - What? I took a step back. - First say: did you come with oral sex? - Yes ... But what does it matter? The bastard stole from me. I don't even know if his name is Tales... I don't even know his license plate. But I can ask... At the front desk of the Motel, of course. – I remembered.

However, after seeing that the other party had six cars, their rationality made them understand that they could only watch. At this time, Xavion, who was in the car, suddenly received a text message. This time, the other party had changed the cell phone number and sent the message: “Go to the North Brooklyn Wharton Motel.” A motel was the lowest end express hotel in the United States. It had the worst rooms and locations, with the laxest management and worst security. One did not need any identification documents to register at a motel. One could simply park their car by the entrance, walk in, and hand cash over to the boss to get a room key, with no need to show any identification throughou

Mom stormed out of the car and rushed to the motel door, knocking loudly. The door swung open. It was well past midnight, and the motel's guests were being disturbed by the racket. Just then, a plump, bald man appeared. "The motel's full!" He was Reggy Murray, the motel's owner. He was nearly six foot three, much taller than Mom. When he suddenly swung the door open, he glared at her with bleary eyes. It was definitely intimidating. Mom flinched but tried to peer inside. Irritated, Reggy attempted to shut the door, but a strong hand stopped it from closing.

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.

I sat still in the front seat, eyes fixed on the entrance to the motel. The motel looked dead. Lights dim. Crickets humming in the surrounding grass. The only motion came from the occasional flicker of the faulty neon sign above the office. ‘Palm Motel’ buzzed faintly, the “L” half-blinking like it couldn’t decide if it wanted to stay lit or not. I didn’t move. Didn’t scroll through my phone. Didn’t reach for the water bottle I’d bought. Just waited. Because if Brenda was right, he’d come.

I mumbled, my throat dry and I swallowed hard, rubbing a hand over it, trying to blunt the ache away as I heaved a strained breath out of my lungs. Nikolas paused in his steps, "I know you're tired but look-" He said, pointing at something behind me. I twirled around, looking at a distance across the road where a gas station can be clearly seen from over here, beside it stood a small building, two or three floors maybe, it had the word 'MOTEL' on its top in lightening colors but the letter E had its purple color flickering on and off, so it looked more like 'MOTL'.