Four Lights Motel

Chapter 5

For two days I hid in my room, too uncomfortable and awkward to risk the chance of bumping into Sara. Still weak from the fever I took the time to recover by resting and going over my notes. The more I looked them over, the more I began to feel sorry for her. She really was in the center of the most awful things. Every victim was staying at her motel, several times she's been called to pick those poor fools up. I couldn't help but wonder what in the world caused all those victims, all three of them, to rave like madmen, what was so awful that was chasing them. What killed them? Who? William Withers was only in contact with at least one victim, that didn't explain the others....

     When I felt the information bearing down on me and the slight ache gently prodded at my temples I found the strength and the will to leave my room, get into my car and head back into town. I hesitantly hovered outside of Moira's Diner for a moment before heading inside. The atmosphere was the same since yesterday, the cheerful familiarity of the place remained as if nothing happened only a few miles away. Still people smiled, still they chattered over coffee as another crooner sang softly in the background. I felt the tension briefly leave my body as I found the booth I sat at with Moira unoccupied and I allowed myself to order a coffee and a burger which I still have yet to taste.    

    "Back again, dear?"

I looked up and met Moira's round, smiling face. "I saw you walking in, thought I would say hi. How's the article coming along? Find anything interesting?"

I returned her smile, my eyes briefly flickering in the direction of the kitchens were her son was working away. "I may have, but I still have a lot of work to do."

She nodded expectantly. When I didn't offer any more information, she took my order and turned away. I noticed a rolled-up newspaper tucked into the pocket of her apron.

    "Is that today's?" I asked.
She turned back around. "I beg your pardon?"

I gestured to her apron. "The newspaper. Is it today's?"

    "Oh, yes, would you like to see it?"

I nodded and gratefully accepted it as she handed it to me. I thanked her and waited until she shuffled away to another table before unrolling it and eagerly scanning the headlines. When I found was I was searching for, all the way on page eight, I skimmed the article until my eyes fell upon a particular paragraph:

...The victim identified as Jeffrey Ramsey, 20, a Brightbell native, has been dead at the Four Lights Motel at seven o'clock in the morning by the Brightbell Police Department, after a distressed call from the motel owner Sara McLeod. The death was a suspected murder but later was determined that Mr. Ramsey had been brewing and consuming Angel's Trumpet, a highly toxic plant that is sometimes used recreationally as a hallucinogenic drug. Ramsey, knowingly consumed the plant brewed in hot water in a form of tea. The amounts Ramsey consumed had caused a fatal seizure. Symptoms of Angel's Trumpet poisoning include intense thirst, difficulty with speech, hallucinations, vomiting, dilated pupils, fever, seizures, coma and death.

   
I stopped. I must have read the article eight times until something in my brain snapped and my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach and my lungs suddenly felt like they shrunk and I lost the capability to breathe.

I placed the paper down gently on the table as if it might burst into flame, and tried to comprehend what I just read. Then in one swift motion, I leapt from the table, scrambled awkwardly out of the booth and flew to my car. I drove back to the motel as fast as I could, my brain racing, the puzzle pieces finally fitting together.

All three—well, now four—victims were raving like lunatics, hallucinating. All four stayed at the Four Lights Motel. All four died.

I was going to be one of those victims.
Angel's Trumpet...that was the plant that Jeff Ramsey tried to warn me about, poor bastard. He tried to warn me, told me not to do something. My guess was consume the poison.

The plant was in my room. The plant was consumed as a form of tea, a tea that Sara had been so graciously offering us left and right. That's why I had the fever, the delirium, the memory loss. The only difference is that I survived, while Jeff didn't.