The Curse of the Towne Motel

Setting the alarm on your wrist watch to 12pm, you settle your head back on the dusty pillow. As your mind settles into sleep, your nervous thoughts melt away and you let your body sink further into the mattress. You dream of handsome strangers offering you rides in their old-fashioned cars. You drive around a dreamscape of winding roads and deadly cliffs with not a care in the world. One of your companions opens his mouth to speak, flashing you a view of two rows of perfectly white teeth. You cannot understand what he is trying to tell you. He frowns at you and his incomprehensible voice becomes louder, until it turns into a high-pitched scream. You feel strong hands on your shoulders shaking you back and forth. Turning, you see the car twist and fall through the air towards crashing waves at the bottom of a cliff. There is a long silence, before the screaming starts up again.
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You awake in a cold sweat. Confused, you train your blurry eyes on your wrist, around which your watch is strapped. It emits a weak beeping sound and the time flashes 12:00, 12:00, 12:00, 12:00, until you press a button on the side of it. You wonder if the beeping sound caused the screaming in your dream.

Sitting up on the mattress you have a look around the room. It looks a lot less scary in the day time. Yawning, you wonder whether six hours sleep was enough for you. It usually is, but you did have a long walk up to the motel yesterday. Sunlight pours through the jagged hole in the window you came through to get in here.

Suddenly you notice that your room does not have a door. Finding that extremely odd and wondering why you didn't notice that last night, you make a decision about what to do next.
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