The Motel california

‘You have got to be kidding!’ Lucy said, summarily dismissing the suggestion.

‘Come on babe, it’ll be fun. We’ll get our scares on. Beer, wine, and spirits… of the dead’
Jack raised his hands up over his head and made ghost noises. Lucy laughed.

‘Weirdo’ she said grinning at her boyfriend.

It had become a badly overused Halloween cliche; partying the night away in a supposedly haunted house.
The house in question was actually a long abandoned motel, and the story attached to it was the typical far fetched tale of brutal murder followed by equally gory revenge from the grave.

There were numerous variations in circulation, changing over time like Chinese whispers but the basics, the core of the story, remained surprisingly consistent through the generations;
Back in the 1920’s a newly married couple, delayed on the road, had come to stay the night on their way to their honeymoon destination, a private cabin by Lake Cachuma. Had they known that they were only another forty five minutes drive away chances are that they would have continued on, and perhaps their grandchildren would be telling tales of a different grizzly crime at that damp-ridden ramshackle old eyesore of a building. But they were road weary and unsure of the way.
Why they didn’t simply ask directions was explained away by a stream of later additions to the story, the Motel clerk was first deaf and blind and then also mute. Questions regarding how he managed to perform his duties at all later led to him losing his various disabilities and simply being a recluse who had never left the building, then a horribly scarred recluse. Then a horribly scarred recluse with webbed fingers and toes, and a habit of spying on amorous couples through tiny pinholes in the walls while masturbating himself with sandpaper. It is said that on a still night, if you listen carefully, you can still hear the shrill cries of him shredding his cock to agonising climax.

Having booked in and taken room 13 the couple had settled down to bed for the night when they heard gunshots from outside. Being a man of the law, the groom went outside to investigate and was shot in the leg by a notorious (yet strangely unnamed) mobster on the run from the police. What followed, according to the story, was a brutal night of physical and psychological torture for the unlucky couple who were found dead the next morning, having suffered numerous cuts, blows and stab wounds.

The alleged perpetrator had fled in the early hours, but was found drowned in the lake after taking the couple’s belongings and using their honeymoon getaway as a hideout. The legend has it that he fled the cabin in terror and drowned himself after encountering the angry spirits of the murdered couple soon after his arrival, and being driven mad by the horrors they subjected him to. It is also said that the twisted look of terror on his face was so horrific that the superstitious local police chief had his head removed before taking the body to the mortuary.

The final part of the story tells that the spirits returned to the motel, forever reliving their last night on earth, and claiming the souls of anyone who dared to spend the night in their room.

The truth of the story was something very different, but elements of truth clung doggedly to the tale like spectres protecting their resting place.


Jack had set up dozens of candles in the best room he could find at the motel. He had cleaned it up, brought sleeping bags, copious amounts of alcohol, snacks and a boom box for some music among other things. Tonight was the night he planned to finally get it on with Lucy. All that was left was to get her there.
It wasn’t just about sex. He had become somewhat besotted with her over the last three months. She made him laugh when ordinarily he was the one expected to make the jokes. She had a kindness about her that was rare in the high school environment, which was usually so full of brash, shallow, image driven clones.

Lucy had helped out Colin Davis, generally known as ‘Dipshit Davis’ due to his very obvious academic shortcomings, with his English assignment. The guys had suggested that Jack kick his ass for spending a good chunk of the night alone with his girlfriend, and the old jack might have done just that, but something in him had changed by her presence around him and having gotten Davis alone he found himself offering to pair up with him for their Biology practical, another of Davis’ many weak areas.
The feeling that he got after that was something new and strange to him, it felt good.


Lucy was dead against the motel idea. As attached as she had become to jack, having seen him change subtly from week to week, and as much as she now trusted him, spending Halloween in that filthy, creepy old place when there were parties everywhere to go to was not an appealing option to her. She did hope to get some time alone with jack tonight though. She had tested and teased him to distraction and despite her initial expectations, he had passed with flying colours. Tonight, given the chance, she would finally get intimate with him.

On Halloween night they found themselves at Lucy’s friend Chloe’s party, an over-the-top extravaganza of all things fancy dress. Jack resigned himself to collecting his stuff from the motel tomorrow, he could try again some other time.
He had dressed himself as a standard murder victim, blood stains down his white t-shirt and gory wounds plastered across his face and neck.
Lucy had resisted the Little Beau Peep costume. As hot as she looked in it, it just wasn’t Halloween enough. Instead she went for the sexy vampiress, with it’s short leather skirt, and bra, fishnet body stocking, and knee length leather boots.
She had looked herself over in the mirror before meeting Jack and given herself an appreciative ‘Oh yeah.’

On his first scan over his girlfriends outfit, her curvy body hugged tightly in leather and nylon, the long black hair let down over her face and back, her deep red bee-stung lips, he knew that if he didn’t have sex with her tonight he was going to have to jerk himself to sleep.
If truth be told he did that most nights anyway. His youthful libido focusing on the moment he would finally slide inside of Lucy and feel her tightness around him.
He was blissfully unaware that Lucy frequently did much the same at night. Listening to the sounds of her sister in the next room secretly fucking her boyfriend, and sliding two fingers into her moist pussy, imaging that the sounds were those of Jack thrusting between her thighs and her own gasps of delight.

The party was excellent, up to and exceeding Chloe’s usual standards. Drink flowed and vampires, werewolves, mummies, Freddy Kreugers, Jasons, zombies and a slew of other horror regulars danced and drank the night away. Lucy was relieved by her choice – three Little Beau Peeps had shown up along with four sexy cat’s and more ‘scream’ outfit’s than was right or proper.
Lucy was eager to get Jack alone somewhere. Jack was equally as eager, glancing over to drink in her beauty every time they parted to talk to friends.

At 2am the party was still going strong. Jack’s neck wound was peeling off as he danced with a caveman and his cave girlfriend. Lucy went over and took him by the hand, leading him to an empty corner. She reached up and slid a finger over the wound. Jack turned to look at her and they locked eyes. Something clicked right there and then. They both knew it. Whether it was the drink, the exertion of dancing, the outfits, or just hormones, something had slid into place just then.

‘Wanna get out of here?’ Lucy asked, grinning at her boyfriend.

‘Yeah, I think I do.’ he replied returning his own grin.

‘Still wanna check out the creepy motel?’ she asked. She knew that Jack had set the place up for them, although it was supposed to be a surprise.