"Nothing happened between us. I repeat, nothing happened between us, Madison Blackett. These were moments of madness."
"A lot of things happened between us, and I'm pretty sure you liked it, Lydia Martin."
*
In which Lydia Martin was in love...
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"The last time I saw Scott act like that was during the full moon." Allison explained to Stiles and Madison, telling them how Scott had paid her a little visit while she was in the shower.
"Yeah, he was a little off with me, too." Stiles said to her.
"But, actually," Madison looked up at him. "Ya know, it was Boyd who was really off earlier."
"Oh yeah." Stiles nodded. "We watched him out his first into the vending machine."
"See, it is the motel." Lydia sighed. "We all have to get out of here," she grabbed a bible from the bureau, "or someone needs to learn how to do an exorcist ASAP before all the werewolves go crazy and kill all of us."
"Okay, just hold on." Stiles said to her. "What if it's not just the motel?" He looked over at Allison. "You said the number in the office went up by three, right?"
"OHHH." Madison chuckled. "You're thinking like three sacrifices. Three werewolves?"
"Scott, Isaac, and Boyd." Allison mumbled.
"Maybe we were meant to come here." Stiles stated.
"Exactly!" Lydia shouted at them. "So, can we please get the hell out of here? Please?"
Stiles stared down at the bible in her hands. "Hang on. Let me see that." Stiles grabbed the bible from her.
There were pieces of newspaper placed inside the bible. "What is that?" Allison asked him, leaning in to look.
"Twenty-eight year old man hangs himself in the infamous Glen Capri." Stiles read aloud the title of the article. He began shaking the book, and about eight of the articles fell onto the bed.
"Hold on, look at these two." Lydia stated, grabbing two of the articles. "They both mention the room 217. I bet these are all the suicides that happened in this room."
"And if every room has a bible-"
"There could be articles in every room." Lydia finished for Madison.
"I love it when you finish my sentences." Madison giggled at the strawberry blonde. Lydia smiled and rolled her eyes.
"Well, that's beautiful, most hotels leave a mint on top of their pillows." Stiles stated sarcastically. "This one leaves a record of all the horrible deaths that occurred in that room."
"What if the one next door has the one with the couple?" Lydia asked them. Everyone looked over at the door, and ran out of the room. Stiles tried opening the room's door, but it wouldn't open. "That was not locked before."
