Chapter 4 - Breakfast at 3:00 in The Morning?

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The hotel was surprisingly nicer than you'd initially expected. The staff was polite, the rooms were nice and well maintained, and you weren't too worried about noisy neighbors. You stood in the elevator, waiting to ascend to the proper floor. Soft music played over a speaker that seemed a bit old and grainy.

The elevator dinged and the door opened. You stepped out into the hallway and went to your room, noting the decor. The carpeting in the hallway was stylized like a Jackson Pollock painting. Nothing like anything you were used to seeing at home.

The art on the walls was all very modern-looking, and, if you were honest, were all very boring pieces that lacked personality. Each one made you think of what white noise would look like if you could see it.

You shrugged and kept walking, stopping when you got to your door. Room #217. You unlocked it and went in.

Just like the rest of the hotel, the room was very plain and boring. It was decorated as any hotel room always was. You shut and locked the door, setting down your luggage bag next to the couch along with your backpack, and opening the carrier for your cats to get out.

Sugarplum crawled out of the carrier and stretched, followed by Punky, then by Shithead. Each followed the same routine of stretching, looking around, and then claiming one of the cushions on the couch. You sighed and chuckled a bit.

"Well gee, leave some space for me, huh?"

You laughed at your own joke for a good thirty seconds, before returning to getting your things organized. You grabbed a fresh pair of clothing, and - for the third time that night-, went to take a shower.

Something about taking a shower right now just felt different from usual. It was like you were washing away the events of the day, and now you felt refreshed and clean. But even with how clean you were, you couldn't help but feel disgusting. Anyone surely would after the events you'd endured, but still. It felt like a bit too much.

Once you'd showered off, you dried and redressed in a pair of simple pajama pants and a band tee. It was time to go get some food.

You turned to your cats, who were still sitting comfortably on the couch, "I'll be back soon, cool guys?"

Your cats only meowed a bit in response, and you nodded to them, before grabbing your purse and phone, and heading out.

The drive to Denny's was, thankfully, short. There was certainly no traffic. After all, it was three in the morning. No one was up right now.

You pulled into the parking lot and went in. The only other people in the cafe was a small family sitting in a booth.

You walked up to the counter, where a tired looking boy - probably around your age - gave you a small smile and yawned.

"Welcome to Denny's. Table or booth?"

"Booth please."

He nodded and grabbed a menu from a basket behind him.

"Follow me, please." He yawned again.

You studied over the waiter, who most certainly looked like he could pass out right then and there. He had rather fluffy brown hair, and tired blue eyes - which, incidentally, were currently trying desperately not to flutter shut.

He was a reasonable amount taller than you. Probably about 5'11", which made you feel like a goddamn midget. He guided you to a booth, and let you sit down while he set the menu on the table, then walked off.

You stared at the menu, debating what you wanted to eat. After settling on what you were having, you sat around and waited for a waiter or waitress to take your order.

A BLOODY GOOD TIME // Creepypasta x Fem. ReaderWhere stories live. Discover now