Mostly Ghostly Hotel

Entry 3: Scaredy Cats

Your hair was dripping wet; a faded yellow raincoat was wrapped around your clothes. Raindrops prohibited you from seeing as you fumbled against the concrete. Two large grocery bags were being heaved into the hotel by your arms. And yet, as miserable as that may sound, you were enjoying it.

You enjoy the rain. You enjoy the gentle drum of raindrops as you made your way inside. And, unlike the bucket incident, you enjoyed being soaked this time. It reminded you of your hometown. The crisp smell of the outdoors, the never-ending supply of rain. It distracted you from the fact you were a thousand miles away from your family, from your home. It was nice to forget for once.

You entered the hotel, shaking out your hair. You plopped the groceries down on the marble counter, and you began to rub at your soar arms. LBM stumbled in after you, trying to balance three large grocery bags at once. "-This is what I was talking about!" she practically groaned, setting them down next to you, "I go and do all this stuff for them and then they never help put anything away."

"You are running a hotel, y'know," you pointed out as you undid your rain boots. LBM snorted in response. "Honey, I'm running a hotel for the mass murderers and creepy creatures of the world. The least they could do is help out around here."

You shook your head, "Men."

LBM nodded furiously, "Not men, boys." With that she flopped herself down on the front desk chair, rolling back against the wall, "Norman and Carrie are usually the only ones who help me out here." She paused, scotching over and motioning for you to take her hands.. "It's so nice to have another normal person," she gave a toothy grin. You shrugged, "It's not like I have anything better to do."
"True," LBM said plainly, relaxing back in her chair, "But it's still nice. Remind me to pay you next time." She winked before continuing "The others ALWAYS find away to avoid it, that is until I hunt them down like an angry mother and yell at them for the two year olds they are." You threw your head back in laughter as you began to shake out your wet H/C hair. LBM blinked at you, before beginning to giggle herself.

"Speaking of two year olds and help... Could I get a little help in here!" LBM yelled out into the halls, but remained seated, "If you don't help put groceries away then no desert tonight!"

No answer.

She groaned, going to stand up, "What a bunch of lazy assholes."

"Heard that, bitch!" Freddy's voice echoed down the halls from wherever the man was. LBM slammed her fists on the counter. "Oh THAT you heard!" The redhead's hair almost matched the color of her face; she looked like a volcano. You giggled to yourself, going to help put the groceries away.

It was strange, you mused, that you found yourself in a murder shack hotel of murderers and yet, here you were doing chores.

"Alright so no desert for Freddy," LBM grumbled to you, unpacking the eggs. You went to help her, grabbing the milk and juice. "No no no, it's fine," she said, "If you could please go grab the other two bags from the car, that'd be great."

"Okay," you half muttered half giggled, "But then I'm done being your maid." LBM let out some sort of sound of acknowledgement as you headed back into the rain.

You still didn't mind it. You didn't mind your H/C hair becoming drenched again. You didn't mind the cold mist upon your face. You'd hate to admit it to LBM, but you didn't mind doing chores either. It made you forget that you were living at a murder shack hotel. It almost made you feel normal.

You slid back into hotel doors, slipping halfway across the hard wooden floors. You shook out your mop like hair, wiping away at the rain across your face. It was a nice feeling. You didn't mind being drenched (unless the situation involved a bucket of ice cold water. Then you minded). You almost liked being wet. Unfortunately, not everyone at the hotel did.
You continued on towards the dinning hall, going to help LBM in the kitchen. It was hard, like walking on a slip 'n' slide hard. But it didn't stop you. The fact you couldn't see over the two large grocery bags didn't stop you. Nor did the fact that you were backing up into a room without your eyes. And the squeaking wet floors didn't stop you either. You didn't see what stopped you. But something did.