SwanQueen Horror stories

Hotel California

One forty-two A.M.
Read her phone.
Driving 80 miles per hour.
Emma had both hands on the wheel, eyes on the foggy, dark road. Her gloves weren't protecting her from the cold temperatures any longer.
As her eyes stared into the night, she remembered the glowing sun, the sand, warm water at the beach, and of course Regina. Her wife by her side holding her hand, taking in the cool breeze as she pulled her closer in her embrace..
A loud honk from a car so close to her yellow bug, knocked Emma right out of her halfway dream. The blonde straightens herself up right away. Taking back full control of the road, gripping the wheel, as if nothing would have happened.
"EMMA!!!" Yelled Regina.
Her wife sitting in the passenger seat, looking shocked at waking up to almost getting into a car accident.
"I'm sorry. That idiot wasn't looking were he was going." She defended.
"No, you were falling asleep." She fired back.
"I'm sorry," Emma repeated. " I need a coffee refill."
Regina picked up her phone. The time hit Two in the morning. Regina had driven for four hours from Florida, now Emma's four hour driving turn had the two woman exhausted.
"You need rest, and so do I."
With a yawn, Regina moved her neck in pain, slowly rubbing as if she could cure it magically.
"We need to stop at a hotel."
"Regina seriously, I'm fine. It's only three more hours till we get home."
"You almost ran into a car swan! We are going to a hotel."
Without anymore hesitation, Emma nodded.
She knew she could make it through those three more hours, with more caffeine, but Regina was right. She could doze off again. Remembering their getaway second honeymoon weekend, that their son Henry and her parents planned for them.
Emma turned at the first exit she saw.
A gas station just near the right corner of Convict hill street caught Emma's eye. She parks at the first gas pump, and checks her gps.
Both their phones had no reception. No way to
Check where the nearest hotel was.
"Damn it!" The blonde threw her head back in frustration.
"Where are we?" Regina observed the abandoned gas station. Emma turned, looking closely as well. The store looked dead. As if no living person has ever set foot inside. Low lights flickering, a cut cardboard read out of business, doors locked in chains. Creeped out, Emma and Regina paid no longer attention to the place. Instead argued about a solution with no agreement. Both knew they couldn't get back on the road. They were tired. Drained of  uncomfortable seats, and car sickness.
The arguing continued. Back and fourth, going nowhere. Emma had the word on the tip of her tongue, ready to interrupt Regina.
A man out of nowhere knocks on Emma's window. Both woman jump and let out a light scream.
Emma looked at the smoky-grey hair old man, with a brown shabby jacket, his face was unclear due to the lack of light. He stood an inch close to her car waiting.

With careful, she rolled down her window halfway. "What do you want?"
"Are you ladies lost?" He asked weakly.
Still not trusting the man. Emma rephrased her question.
"I'm very sorry to disturb you ladies. I figured you were lost, and needed some help." He said nicely.
"You live around here?"
     "Do you know of any hotels nearby?" Regina asked joining the conversation.
The man laughs in joy, "why of course there is."
He points to his right, down a pitch black street.
"Take two blocks down convict hill road. To your left will be Hotel California. A fine hotel. Perfect for what your looking for." He smiled.
"Thank you," they said to the kind man.
Emma turned to Regina, "I guess we found ourselves a hotel."
Regina raised her eyebrow in agreement, and in a matter of seconds they were off. Driving down convict hill road.

Two blocks to their left, just like the man instructed was Hotel California.
A low-rise building with a huge red-orange bright electric sign of the hotels name. Emma exited her car first, Regina followed as they both observed the old edifice. Without a word, Emma took Regina's hand on her own. They walked up to the entrance slowly.

God, this hotel was old. Brownstone brick walls, the two front doors were covered in spider webs, and dust. The outside gave the impression of an abandoned insane asylum. Down on their feet was a bloody red worn out carpet. The smell was ancient, rotten even. Such place looked like it never once was a glamorous hotel, but there was something dragging the ladies to go inside. Standing at the front door, Emma grabbed the rusty handle.