A Baby Blue Quilt and a Face In The Window

"Thanks," I say as I get my keys from the receptionist. "My pleasure," he says like a Chick-fil-A employee. I pick up my bags and walk to the third floor where my room is. I get to it, unlock it, and put my bags on the floor, a rush of cold air blowing over me. The room is very pretty but has an air of forgetfulness in a way, my anxiety builds for some reason. I must have forgotten to take my pills. The room is a clover green with a wide curtained window on the wall directly across from the door, on the left side of the room, there is a tall cedar wardrobe that smells vaguely of rot and a frosted glass door presumably to a bathroom next to it. On the right side of the room are two twin beds, one with a baby pink puffy comforter and one with a heavy-looking baby blue quilt. They like pastels in this bed and breakfast.

I choose the bed with the comforter and flop onto it, I am so tired from the hours-long drive it took to get here. My friend invited me to her wedding down here, but it is an almost eight-hour drive because I live in New Jersey. I even had to take a nap on the side of the interstate because I kept on dozing off while trying to drive. I managed to get here though. So that's what's important.

My eyes begin to droop and it is hard for me to stay awake so I just decide to take a quick nap. I close my eyes and immediately fall asleep.

Knock. I get jolted awake by the sound. "Hello?" I say. I get no response. It's probably just a branch or an animal or something, I think. I flap back into my soft pillow and fall asleep again. It is unbelievably comfortable here. The bed is the perfect balance of firm and soft, I've pulled my blanket up to my chin and tucked it under me, I'm lost in a cloud of soft and warm pillows all around me. 

Knock Knock Knock. I am woken up again. "Ughhhhh," I say. I am really annoyed now. I get up and shuffle in my slippers over to the window to move the branch, and I gasp. There is a figure in the window, its face covered in shadows. "Get away!' I shout. But it doesn't move. I get up and walk to the window and breathe a sigh of relief, it is just a very strangely shaped branch. I open the window to move the branch, and suddenly a hot hand reaches up and grabs my wrist. I shriek.

 "Let me go!" I cry. 

"Can you help me, I need help," the thing says with a crackly tired voice.

"No!" I yell trying to pull my hand out of its grasp, but it holds on tight.

"Please, I am so cold, I need somewhere to sleep," it pleads. I can't see its face but I can almost feel its sadness.

I hit it with my free hand and it recoils letting go of my hand. I slam the window, shut it, lock it, and run to my bed and hide under the covers like a child during a thunderstorm.

Almost an hour later I get out of my bed and wash off my wrist in the bathroom. I scrub it really hard to get any residue from the creature off me. I wipe my hands on the soft B&B hand towels and walk back into my room. I stop stock still when I open the door. The quilt has grooves like someone is under it. I try not to make a noise so as it won't notice me. "I asked you to help," the same crackly voice says, muffled by the quilt. I start hyperventilating as I see the quilt stained purple by blood. The blood looks old and dry like it has been there for hours. I grab my phone and I run out of the room. A new receptionist tries to ask me what's wrong, but I don't stop running until I get into my car. I hastily call the police and explain what is happening. "I um saw a figure in my window so but I thought it was a branch, and um, um, um, it grabbed my wrist and got in my room and is hiding under my blanket," I say, crying into the phone. "Where are you currently?" the operator asks. "Um, 2543 Broadstone Rd. Please come. Please, I need help," "The police will be here soon." I nod even though I know they can't see that. I hear a knock on my window. And twist around to look at whoever's. knocking, hoping it is another person. It's the creature again. And by the lights in my car, I can finally see all the details of its face. It has gaping holes for eyes like they have been carved out, looks charred, and is covered in some kind of liquid, most likely blood. I lock the doors. Covering my eyes with my hands I try calling the police again but the signal has gone out. It must have just cut out. I start sobbing, and it yanks open the door like it isn't locked.

"Yes, she was like this when we came," the police officer says.

"She looks horrifying. Like she was killed screaming," the detective says shivering.

 "I don't know how that happened, but it's almost like she got electrocuted and her face got stuck like that," says the officer.

"It's even worse with her eyes being missing. She looks like she was burned. Who is she?"

"She was a young woman named Andrea Laughlin. 24 years old"

"She was so young, that is terrible."

"It is truly horrifying. Rest in peace."

Prometheus sighs. How many people have to killed to learn a lesson? People never learn.