Love, it will get you nowhere
You're on your own
Lost in the wild
So come to me now
I could use someone like you
Someone who'll kill on my command
And asks no questions
Disclaimer: I only own Erebus. Rest belongs to Jeff Davis
Cover by: @jackslandry
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CHAPTER SIX: motel California
☾ ŧħę ħยภŧęᴦ'ร ħ๏ภ๏ᴦ ☽
"Never stayed in a motel before," EREBUS ARGENT TELLS HIS COUSIN AND FRIENDS.
"Really?" Stiles questioned, disbelief.
"I mean, Kate would pay for a motel to stay during a hunt, but, I typically never was able to actually stay in the room. I would be set out on the hunt," Erebus explained.
They exited the bus, examining the place.
"I've seen worse," Scott announced.
"Where have you seen worse?" Stiles asked in disbelief.
"A motel in San Francisco, I swear the thing was held together by paint and mold." Erebus informed the two.
Coach Finstock blew his whistle. "Listen up! The meet's been pushed til tomorrow. This is the closest motel, with most vacancies and meats amount of good judgement when it comes to accepting a bunch of degenerates like yourselves. You'll be pairing up. Choose wisely."
They all began to collect thier keys.
"And I'll have no sexual perversions perpetrated by you little deviants. Got that? Keep your dirty little to your dirty little selves!"
Lydia paused, making Allison stop and turn to her. "Lydia?"
"I don't like this place," Lydia exhaled, eyes darting from the place.
"I don't think the people who own this place like this place," Allison smiled. "It's just for a night."
"A lot can happen in one night," Lydia replied. ☾ ŧħę ħยภŧęᴦ'ร ħ๏ภ๏ᴦ ☽
Erebus had ended up in a room, alone. His room has been next to Lydia and Allison's. No one wanted to share a room with him. And they had been unable to have him put in the same room as Scott and Stiles, as in two people could be in each room.
He had caught sight of Lydia leaving her room, a bundle of towels in her hands. He filled her out, lying when he caught up to her in saying he wanted to get a snack from the vending machine. He walked up to the station where a woman stood, Lydia placed the towels on the counter. "Excuse me? The card on the dresser says we have a non-smoking room, but somehow...All our towels reek of nicotine."
The receptionist turned around, a raspy voice. "Sorry about that, sweetheart." She had a stoma in her throat. The tube was held by a soft material, tied around her neck.
