So You Used to Be Human - Book 3 (Original Version)

Chapter 33: Semi-Charmed Kind of Life

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I tried not to move, terrified that the slightest movement would wake the Gentlemen from their terrible slumber/trance, and used only my eyes to try to figure out where the hell we were.

The surprisingly heavy curtains had been duct-taped to the walls, stopping any light from bleeding into the room. It was a surprise that they were so heavy since most cheap motels didn't seem to believe in cutting out all sunshine that could possibly wake up their guests. From what I remembered of the sign as we drove in, rooms had been available for $49 a night and the interior I was looking at verified that it was as cheap as it looked. There were two queen sized beds with questionably ugly duvets; at the foot of the beds were a double pair of dressers, no doubt made of particle board of some kind; a flat-screen television was the sole occupant of the space on top of the dressers, the remote either somewhere on the bed or lurking in one of the drawers keeping company with the standard Gideon's Bible that nobody had even been given as a Christmas present.

I had been wedged between the queen beds, no doubt on top of the bedside dresser, the wall lamp awkwardly poking into my shoulder blades in an almost painful fashion. Mr Bryce was installed on the bed to the left of me with Mr Sinnel on the bed across from him. Mr Flynn was seated on the room's sole chair, right in front of me, his hand held up in front of my face as if he were re-enacting some bad eighties movie where he was reading my mind.

Somehow, even without the clock telling me the time, but maybe from the unpanicked way it just kept on ticking even though it was an unwitting prisoner (and had possibly found company with the remote control and the Gideon's bible), that it was sometime past noon and whatever drugs Mr Sinnel had injected into me were now wearing off.

Mr Flynn's eyes slid open, the eyes of a snake encircling its prey just before crushing the life out of it and it was like he was looking deeply into my soul.

"Mister Diego," Mr Flynn said. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

"You wouldn't believe the dreams I've been having..." I mumbled, aware for the first time just how dry my mouth was. I could have murdered a bottle of water at the time.

"I must apologize for that. Mister Bryce here insisted on the Christmas theme despite our best urgings. He seems to have Christmas on the mind for some reason."

"Maybe he murdered a reindeer or an elf recently," I suggested.

"Perhaps he did. I rather suspect that he has been reading Dickens in secret, but he is loath to admit as much."

Mr Bryce stirred and stretched languidly.

"Dickens was a bore when he as alive and even worse in his writing. Now if it's a Christmas classic you want, I'd highly recommend watching Die Hard. Lots of action and it's over in two hours, unlike Dickens, who just hangs about and stinks up the place."

Mr Flynn looked amused.

"Our Mister Bryce is surprisingly tasteful at times. This would not be one of those times."

"So that was you inside my dreams just now? You were all doing that?"

"Christmas is coming... the goose is getting fat..." Mr Bryce sang and grinned toothily at me.

A snore came from Mr Sinnel and Mr Bryce leaned forward to snap his fingers in front of his face, but got no response.

"I think he's decided where he's going to sleep," Mr Bryce said and tipped Mr Sinnel over onto his side. "He gets a little bored if nobody gets killed. Can't blame him really."