And Who Knew?

I'll Take That, Thanks.

i am soooo sorry for not posting for a few days! a lot of shit happened this week. eh, I'm not too worried. no one reads this book anyways haha. no one to make it up to. anywho, we are finally back on track.

After the strange stuff that happened last night, I crashed right away. I slept until about noon when I heard barking. Not like a dog barking. Like fighting. I peeked one eye open. The girl with the black hair was complaining through her mask at the tall woman. I rubbed my eyes and looked at what the problem was. The faint sound of "Po" was being drown out by the ranting, but I could still ever so slightly hear it. 

"Great way to wake up" I grouched under my breath. I rubbed my eyes again, getting the sand out of them. I listened more closely to what was going on.

"We are switching beds! right now! I am not sleeping next to that human!" 

"But (Po) he's not (Po) a human (Po) anymore." Ah, great. a cat fight. That's never good

"I don't care! He doesn't belong here. Either he needs to go or we're switching beds."

"But my (Po) feet would  (Po) be blocked by (Po) the table in (Po) the middle (Po). I need (Po) to be on (Po)the edge." The Po's were much louder than usual, and they sounded like they had an edge to them; almost angry.

"You like the kid, don't you? What's the problem?" There wasn't really an answer after that. Just the constant sound of Po. Po. Po. Po. Takai got up and stepped outside. The girl with the mask huffed and sat in a chair. She fondled with her hair for a bit, before stepping outside, too. I finally got up. I hobbled down the hall and into the bathroom. I rinsed my eyes and drank some water.

Well shit. I don't have a tooth brush. Time to cry to the receptionist again. I padded over to the receptionist desk.

"Uh, can I-"

"An employee will give you the necessary toiletries. Please be patient. Have a nice day."

"Oh, thanks" The sound of typing echoed the room as a reply. I sighed, ran my fingers through my hair, and walked to the bartender.

"Hey, Arthur"

"Hi fucker, how's it going?"

"Eh. Not the best."

"You gonna tell me what you want, or you gonna look at me like a dead fish?" Arthur grumbled, shaking a bottle of whiskey I had once.

"Haha, I'll take that. Thanks." He tossed me the bottle. I caught it, popped the lid open, and chugged half of it down.

"You a heavy drinker, or you just trying to drown this place?"

"Neither. I'm making it go bankrupt by taking all the whisky you've got." We chuckled together. I took a couple of smaller sips.

"My wife, she cheated on me. I was gonna stay at a hotel, but I popped a tire. I dragged my car to the first hotel I saw. It was this place. And you know the rest." 

"Damn, man. Here, you deserve it." he slid a bottle of wine in my direction. I looked at it with a bit of surprise.

"Thanks. Still feels weird that I don't have to pay for it."

"Why would you when you ain't got a way to get money?" I guess that makes sense. I took a few lighter sips, already feeling like laughing nonstop. I feel happy, man! The girl with the mask came marching over to us, a look of disbelief on her face.

"Fucking alcoholics. Can't function without beer in their veins."  She stomped past us into her room.

"What's her deal?" I sighed. I was under and over her attitude by now. It's not cute. It's not funny.

"I don't know. She's been here for a while, though. About twenty years, when I started here. I nodded my head.

"So why are you here?"

"What, what legend am I?"

"Yeah, that one."

"I was made by some stupid creepypasta kid. I'm the bartender of 1941. The interior to my bar is the same one I apparently haunted, although I have no memory of this. I haunted the bar since I died. Or at least that's the story." Arthur yoinked out another bottle of wine, and we both took a few more sips of our drinks.

"Eh, it's better than being some wax man. You got unlucky." I paused, nearly sputtering up what just slid down my throat.

"Eh? How'd you know?" I flexed my fingers trying to not cough.

"I have the same hour as you." 

"Oh, fun." A couple more sips didn't get rid of the coughing feeling. I gave up and hacked a few times, then the urge finally went away. Humph.

"SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAKKKKK" the sound of nails in a chalk board blasted in me ears, and I jumped. My bottle nearly dropped, but I managed to catch it haphazardly  between my knees. It still sloshed on my pants.

"Fuck" I cursed, fumbling the lid on the bottle. The ground shook slightly, and then stopped. I looked around. Arthur was busy holding back the bottles from falling and straightening them again.The receptionist desk is empty and Arthur was busy fixing the bottles. He straightened them, gave a little "hm" and turned back to me.

"God dammit, she did it again." He grabbed a bottle off the rack and handed it to me. 

"Can I have a rag?" He took one off the shelf and tossed it over.

"Thanks. And what do you mean, she did it again?" He gave himself a bottle and gulped half of it down all at once.

"The fuckin' banshee in here. She has fits sometimes." I paused my drinking and looked at him.

"You mean I'll have to randomly deal with that crap!?" 

"Yup." 

"Stop acting like this shit is normal! What the hell?" He scowled at me.

"Okay, she's not a banshee, per say. this is the urban legend hotel, not the Celtic hotel. It's just easier to call her a banshee." I slammed my bottle down. I was losing a grip. I blame the alcohol. Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but another scream echoed through the entire hotel.

"Would that bitch shut up already!?" The girl in the mask stomped out the door. I watched in bewilderment as she left the parking lot. Guess it's her hour. A strand of her hair caught in the door. I didn't pay attention to it until I actually looked at it. It was bugging me. It was so long and thick that I could see it flickering in between the white frames of the doors. My OCD kicked in and it was buggin me. If it were'nt for the white frames, I never would have noticed it. But now I wanted to yank it out and throw it away. Why is her hair so god damn long?

Then I noticed something. Didn't it seem a bit . . . Lighter? Ain't her hair supposed to be blacker than black?

I took a few sips as Arthur rambled on about how Kuchisake-onna needs to knock it off.

"Hold on." I walked over to the strand of hair was.

It was long, but it wasn't black.

It was brown.