It was a slow town.
Not much to do. Not much to see. Not much to anything.
The apartments and houses were mostly occupied by those close to death or those already dead.
There was never a clear sky, almost as if even the skies knew that people didn't travel here to be happy. They came to die. Most taken from suicide or from old age. Others were taken by those who came to kill those looking for death. That isn't the reason behind my arrival.
I came to find someone, that's all. My mother. They say if you go in, you don't come out to tell the tales of what you saw— that if you didn't go in to die, you'd soon suffer the same notions of those who did. I didn't believe it, of course.
I believe that hundreds of lost souls are stuck here, but I don't presume that they are keeping visitors from leaving. My mother only came here to write a novel—she only came for inspiration. What could've held her here for so long.
•••
I'd arrived.
There wasn't a soul in sight. The sun was covered by dense clouds, hinting that it was going to rain.
I drove slowly through the street, passing through the many abandoned cars, avoiding them like obstacles. Some looked like they had been parked recently, others like they'd been there for decades. In my sight, an inn appeared to be at the end of the street.
As I neared, I noticed that there stood atleast 40 different cars parked outside of the inn, some parked in the middle of the street because of lack of spaces. I was forced to park about 100 yards away, the closest I could get.
I got out of the car and began walking towards the inn. Just as I neared the entrance, I heard an incredibly loud smack behind me, almost as if something had hit the pavement. I jumped and turned, startled, only to view a body lying face-down, and a pool of blood forming around the head.
My hand covered my mouth and I suddenly felt short of breath just as my vision blurred with tears.
"Oh my god," is the only thing that escaped my throat, barely above a whisper.
I was unsure of what to do. I knew he was dead and that there was no saving him. I knew it.
But still I ran—still holding on to a glimmer of hope.
I ran to the inn pushed through the doors with a quickness. Wiping my eyes and clearing my vision, I looked up to see the hostess, a pale woman who appeared to be in her late fifties.
"Someone just jumped from the roof and I think they're dead! Please, ma'am, call someone so they can help him—he may still be alive!" I screamed shakily. She stared at down at her desk, blankly.
"Are you not hearing me?! Someone outside is—"
"—dead?"
"I..." I stared back in confusion. "I-I was going to say that he was hurt."
"No need to help the man. If he doesn't die now, he'll die later. There's no escaping it."
"Excuse me?" I looked at her in disbelief. How could a woman be so careless about a dead man lying outside of her hotel.
"He'll die either wa—"
"Well can you call someone to move his body? Atleast to show him some decency?"
"Don't worry. They'll remove the body."
"Who?"
"The ones who take the corpses and remove those who don't share the same desires as them."
"Same desires as who?"
"The corpses."
"Well, what desires could they have?"
"Would you like a room on a higher floor?"
"What desires?!"
"The desire you seem to lack—"
She hesitated before finally meeting my eyes.
"—Death."
