The door was almost close to breaking up. But the banging was not stopping. Arthur looked around; the room was almost empty. The walls had wallpaper that was torn in places and had almost faded to just a grey smudge. Arthur saw a table lamp by the bedside, he picked up the table lamp and started to walk towards the door.
Arthur took every step with fear. He gathered up all his strength and asked, "who is it?" His low scared voice got lost in the loud banging. But a second later, the banging stopped, but there was no answer. This time Arthur yelled as loud he could, "Who is it?"
"I'm the owner" replied the gruff voice from the other side. Arthur did not relax yet. The lamp was still high up in the air and tightly gripped in his hand. Slowly he let his body get close to the door and peeped through the keyhole. He could not take any chances.
It was indeed the old man – the motel owner, Arthur had met last night. Arthur adjusted his body and pushed side to side to see if someone else was standing with the motel owner. Someone like the killer he had just last night escaped from. Arthur saw no one. The motel owner was standing all alone.
Arthur opened the door. The lamp was still in his hand, the old motel owner glanced at it for a second and looked at Arthur. "Your twelve-hour pre-paid rental is over, pay for the next twelve or pack your bags." The owner looked in the room to point at the bags, but there were no bags. Arthur had all his clothes on the backseat of his car.
"Gimme a minute, I am coming to your office" requested Arthur. The owner nodded and then looked back at the lamp in Arthur's hand, "And put the lamp back!" then he walked away. Arthur closed the door, tossed the lamp on the bed and sat down. Arthur knew he had no money. "What I am going to do now?" he asked himself.
Arthur saw the shirt and jacket he was wearing last night, lying on the bed. He doesn't remember when he had removed them, "I must be drunk... and hot!" He murmured. The shirt was grey and the jacket was a white wool one. Arthur wore it occasionally, only when meeting the publisher or press.
Although he had been continuously meeting the publishing people, the press had turned away from him. From being the front-page darling, he had slipped away to just being mentioned by the local press as only part of panel members in some newbie lit fest. And the fests not even paid anything to Arthur. Also, Arthur hated being asked what was he currently writing and if when will he release the sequel to his debut novel – Tumbling in the.
"I want to focus on my writing" Arthur had excused to his wife. "These silly fests take too much of my time. I lose my mood, in these nonsense seminars." Nadia smiled, "Just this time, please do it for me, Joe's husband is organizing it and they especially want you there!"
"Especially me, my foot! I had to buy lunch from my card that day." Said Arthur and then realized, "The card!" he hastily begins to check the pockets of his jacket. Nothing in front, nothing in the side ones, then he puts his hand in the inner pocket, he finds the card here. He looks at it hopefully. "I hope it works" prayed Arthur.
Arthur wore his clothes and walked to the office. Arthur slipped the card through the wooden window. He half expected the owner to decline the card and ask him for cash. But the owner took the card and swiped through the machine that's been lying under some newspapers. Arthur stood there with his fingers crossed.
The owner put the card back through the window. Arthur hesitated. "It's done, you can stay for twelve more hours," said the owner. Arthur let out a smile. He realized he was hungry, the last meal he had was the breakfast Nadia had prepared for him. He had not liked it at all. But now, he wished he could just go back home and eat that same breakfast every day.
Arthur took coffee and some twinkies from the vending machine. He was so hungry that he didn't bother to go back to his room. He sat down at the waiting bench, put the hot coffee cup down and gorged on the twinkies while the coffee cooled a bit. Arthur caught the owner starring at him.
When the owner's and Arthur's eyes met owner looked away and turned on the television. Arthur was peacefully sipping his morning coffee when his attention was hijacked by the loud reporter from the television. "Autopsy killer strikes for the sixth time, the police have failed yet again to nab the Autopsy killer" yelled the female news anchor.
Arthur was fully engrossed in the newsreel now. "These images can be disturbing, viewers discretion is advised," warned the anchor. "A 20 years old girl's body has been found; the body is said to be of a missing girl named Tiffany snow. There is a cut from her neck to the abdomen."
"Here are the images, we again request our viewers that these images can be really disturbing," said the other reporter with more empathy than his co-anchor. When the images appear on the screen, he spits out his coffee and unblinkingly stares at the screen. The scene from last night flashed in Arthur's mind. This girl too had blond hair and now Arthur recognized her green dress too.
The images show – a half-naked, sliced in half girl lying in a pit in the woods. Arthur can't hear what the news reporter says from now onwards. He is shell shocked. The image of a girl rolled in the carpet keeps coming into his mind. Could I have saved her? Thinks Arthur. "Forensic experts have revealed the girl could have died 13 – 14 hours ago" yelled the reporter again.
This sentence brought back Arthur from his limbo. "She must have been dead when I saw her," whispered Arthur. "It's not my fault. People die every day," he explained himself. He stood up and looked at the owner, "I want to shower," said Arthur. The owner pointed him to a common shower area.
Arthur went into his room, put his phone on charge, took his clothes from the car and had a long shower. "It's not my fault," he said again as the water flowed over him. Then he changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a shirt. Went into his room and checked his phone. There was a message from Daniel. Come back home, dad. I'll be with you soon texted back Arthur.
But he knew he can't go back home a failure, he had to prove to his wife and her stupid friend joe, her cheap husband who didn't offer lunch to his guests and many more individuals that he was not a failure. He will finish that novel in one month. He will write the bloodiest novel anybody has written and it will have details like seen never before. Because he will learn from the best. He Will follow the Autopsy killer.