SHEOL

27

                       

I woke up in a dirty motel room three days later.

     I opened my eyes to a lost ray of sunlight escaping the crevice between a set of dusty curtains, hanging above a seemingly smudged window next to a scratched up door.

I shifted my position and lazily turned my head, only to find The Window Killer sound asleep next to me, thieving most of the blankets. I tapped his arm lightly.

     He released a faint moan and burrowed deeper into his cavern of comforters and pillows. I nudged him a bit harder.

     "What is it, Healer?" He said quietly, his eyes still closed. "I've had a rather trying day, can't a man sleep for a moment?"

     "Window Killer, it's October." I raised an eyebrow. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised. The Healer seemed like much more than just an accomplice to him.

     His eyes shot open. "You're awake!" He then proceeded to spring out of bed. "I can explain why I was sleeping with you!" He wasn't wearing his three piece suit anymore; he was clothed in nothing more than a very large shirt (presumably Kingston's), and hopefully some sort of undergarment.

     I soothed him. "It's okay, Window Killer, really. We both know you're not interested in me in that way."

     He flashed a puzzled look. "How would you know that?"

     I stood up and stretched my legs. Luckily, I was still fully clothed. "You called me 'Healer' while you were half asleep, as if you'd slept in the same bed as him before. Judging by how you two bicker like a married couple, I doubt that it was just a coincidence."

     The Window Killer huffed. "One can never be so sure."

     "It's obvious that you love The Healer, don't try to deny it." I walked over to the window and threw back the curtains, which revealed a dry parking lot, spotted with a handful of cars and oil stains on the cracked pavement. "Where are we?"

     The Window Killer threw himself onto the bed in which we had slept. There was another bed more near to the window, with neatly folded sheets across the foot. "To begin with, I was only sleeping in the same bed as you because Kingston was obliged to take the other one. I am a spirit, he is a human; we cannot touch. Also, he is the many a 'great grandson of The Healer, and such a situation would prove to be most awkward. Secondly, we are in a so called "motel" in Salt Lake City, Utah."

     "Utah?" I questioned. "Aren't we supposed to be in New York?"

     "Well, after the train incident, we seem to require another way there." He replied.

     The train. I had completely forgotten about Warren and the train and the mutilated bodies.

     "How did we escape?" I asked.

      The Window Killer rolled over lazily. "Once Warren was killed, we contacted The Healer for guidance. He suggested that we make certain to destroy the security camera footage, and to cloak Kingston and you with my saliva, in order to maintain invisibility while exiting the train when it stopped. We did just that and found refuge in this hostile."

     "What about the luggage and the black lotus flowers?"

      "The flowers were, in fact, real. I took the liberty of spitting on each of the suitcases as well." He seemed quite proud of himself.

     I scanned the musty motel room. A box style television sat on a shelf in front of the two beds. On the far side of the room hid a small bathroom. Clothes and odd objects were scattered across the floor. It was clear that they had made themselves at home. "Where's Kingston?"