FYI: I am not fluent in English, I’m trying to be at least. Sorry for the potentials mistakes. Feel free to correct me in the comment section.
A childish fear, he thought to himself.
He opened the door of his room. A smell of cigarette hit him directly. He stopped smoking two months ago and this smell will not help him forget his longing for a good smoke after the stress of the traveling. Thankfully, he had no cigarette in his pockets to taunt him even more.
The room had that uniform pale brown color, a two persons wide bed, a night stand with a phone, a lamp and an ashtrey. Facing the front bed, a TV stand with a top notch television and multiple drawers. A wardrobe next to the bed et next to it, a bathroom with a toilet. A picture perfect basic motel room.
He let down his luggage on to the floor and laid in bed, looking at the roof stained by years of smoking.
One of these spots looked like a rabbit.
Smoke stains are likes clouds, perfect pareidolia materials. He took out his notebook to write that thought down. The writer learned to write down every thing that inspired him directly as to not forget a good idea that could help him in his futur writing. He never really used the notes he putted down in his journal, it was more of a little obsession, just in case the inspiration decided to take a leave from him creative mind.
Curiosity pushed Jack to open the bed side drawer, see if there was a bible. It’s a curious thing to put a bible in hotel rooms he thought to himself. It was not the case in Europe, it was something typically American. Forcing God into your life, guiding the lost sheep back to the Lord’s herd. He wrote those lines down on his notebook before opening the drawer and discovering a tiny black leathered bible and a full pack of Camel cigarettes along with a lighter.
Torrence heartbeat increased for a bit. There were, in this drawer, God wisdom and the Devil sweet temptation.
He took the bible and opened it where the little strip of tissue served as a bookmark.
He read the first line that caught his eyes :
When He arrived at the place, He said to them, “Pray that you may not enter into temptation.”
He sighted, looked at the pack of cigarettes, took it, turned and smelled the odor of tobacco before putting it down like it was burning his finger.
Sometime, life work in mysterious ways, like God, but it also have frightening coincidences that make you question existence in its whole. Jack was in deep meditating state, wondering if life was nothing but a simulation, a cruel game, lead by a disturbed man.
He got back looking at the roof to discover that the rabbit looked like a bird now. He moved his head to see if it was a change in his position that made this metamorphosis but it wasn’t.
How strange is the thing controlling us. Why does it seem that sometime, he takes a particular interest in you for a moment and giving you the hardest, cruelest and strangest time of your life ?
Sleep started to ask for its due. Jack took off his trouser and his old leather jacket, rested his head on a pillow and started to dose off.
He started having one of those strange and scary dreams where you wake because you felt like falling off a cliff.
Jack raised up from his bed immediately. He remembered reading something about those kinds of terrific dreams. The brain dropped some kind of adrenaline’s type chemical in the body, because for a moment, he was thinking that the body was about to die, or something along those lines.
It marked, once more, that room with a dreadful feeling. Something was wrong here. After what happened back at the Monclar hotel back in Colorado, the writer knew that there was some strange and powerful power out off our understanding lingering in there. Only peoples who face those strange power know that you shouldn’t mess with those entities.