
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 would not help him forget his longing for a good smoke after the stress of traveling. Thankfully, he had no cigarette in his pockets to taunt him even more.
The room had that uniform pale brown colors, a two space bed, a night stand with a phone, a lamp and an ashtray. To the left, the bed, facing it, a TV stand with a top notch television and multiple drawers. A laundry in the wall facing the front door and next to it, to the right, a bathroom with a toilet. A picture perfect motel room.
He let down his luggage on to the floor and laid in bed, looking at the ceiling stained by years of smoking.
One of these spots looked like a rabbit.
Smoke stains are likes clouds, a perfect pareidolia effect material. 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 writing. He never really used the notes he putted down in his journal, it was more of a little obsession, just in case that, one day, the inspiration decided to take a leave from his 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 bookmark.
He read the first line that caught his eyes :
(Luke 22:40)
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 it 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 it’s 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 feel like falling off a cliff.
Jack woke up immediately. He remembered reading something about those terrific dreams. The brain dropped some kind of adrenaline thinking that it was dying. Or something along those lines. It, once again, marked 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 powers, out of our understanding, haunting this place. Only peoples who faced those strange powers know that you shouldn’t mess with those entities…
Jaskiers




















