Don't Sleep In Room 13

Chapter 3: Creatures Of The Night

Randall left the mall and got into his Ford Bronco that was parked at the far end of the parking lot --where no one parks. It's so far from the mall entrance that every space around him was empty. A car collector's dream.

He sank deep into the abyss of his Eddie Bauer edition leather seat, with his cellphone in-hand, and did what every other person would do, and posted to his social media feed.

"If everything goes as planned, I'll be staying in room thirteen at The Motel Rouge tonight". The phone glitched out and erased the message. He rewrites, "Has anyone stayed at The Motel Rouge before?" He hit tweet and waited for a response. Thirty minutes passed that felt like hours, with Randall refreshing the page every few seconds eager for a response. Randall pops the trunk of his car and grabs a bottle of bourbon from his stash, a cooler full of groceries hidden under a pile of clothes as if he's been living in his car for quite some time. Randall returns to the driver's seat and begins to refill his limited edition Lone Ranger flask. Deep inside his chest pocket is a pack of Newport cigarettes, he pulls them out and smacks the package on the palm of his hands a few times before pulling one out. Randall takes a swig of bourbon from his flask, lights a cigarette, and continues to refresh the Twitter feed. The page was as dead as a deer on a highway. Randall chugs back the rest of the bourbon and passes out.

Ding... The phone's notification sounded like the house alarm in my childhood home, it brought me back to the night of October 1992, the day my father was kidnapped. Hearing the footsteps echoing across the hardwood floor, creaking up the stairs and slowly creeping to the bedroom of my parents' room. Three, six foot tall men wearing all white snatched my father out of his bed. DING!!, DING, DING, DING, DING, DING, DING!!!!

The ding of the phone shocked Randall out of his sleep, waking up to an abundance of notifications on his cellphone.

"It's all True."
"Don't fall asleep!"
"THE DEVIL LIVES THERE."
"No one comes back acting same Mr. Kane."
"That place will show you your own demons."
"DON'T FALL ASLEEP IN ROOM 13."
"Every year someone goes missing, or dies there I would steer clear."
"Whatever you do, Don't.......Fall.....Asleep!"
"don't believe the hype old man."
"This is gonna be interesting."
"Livestream it?"
"Under new management, everything is fine I'm sure."
"New book idea?".
These were the messages that polluted Randall's phone after being awoken by a dinging nightmare of notifications.

Randall took a swig from the bottle sitting on the passenger seat —which was pretty well down to the last sip. He then read a couple more reply's.

Randall mumbles to himself as he finished his bottle of bourbon "Okay, this sounds like a no-brainer, another one for the books, Don't Fall Asleep, like I haven't pulled an all-nighter before."

"Well we're gonna need more of this to keep the night going." He says to himself as he holds up his flask.

Randall turned the key to the ignition. The car struggled to turn over and after a few sputtery chugs he tried again. Exhaust spit from the back of the car filling the street behind, and the radio was cranked full blast. The song Creatures of the night by Kiss polluted the parking lot overbearingly loud, projecting all attention to him. He pressed the gas pedal and it hesitated a bit to accelerate. "COME ON," Randall yelled as he hit the steering wheel. The car took off and  Randall sangs along to the music, " WERE CREATURES OF THE NIGHT!".

Liquor for less is what the sign says in the window of the LCBO, (Liquor Control Board Of Ontario). Randalls Ford Bronco pulled into the parking lot still blaring music. The rumbling from the truck is vibrated the glass windows of the building. One turn of the key, powering down the vehicle spreads silence among the plaza. With his distinct cool guy strut, Randall walked to the door of the liquor store, whips it open, pulls his sunglasses down, and looks at the clerk. "Hey," he said as he nodded his head.