The street smelled faintly of smoke and old oil, the kind that clung to cracked pavement and never really went away. Aliana parked her car beside a flickering lamppost and stared through the windshield at the hotel across the street. The neon sign read "Blue Moon Inn," but the letter "n" in "Moon" was burnt out, leaving it to blink as Moo in uneven flashes.
"This has to be a joke," she muttered, double-checking the address on her phone. It matched. Cheap room, nearby, available for the night. Just what she'd searched for.
She sat there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel and trying to talk herself into moving. The air conditioning had long stopped, and the car was getting stuffy, but still, she couldn't make herself open the door. Everything from the crooked signage to the faint hum of a distant motorcycle felt off.
Her phone buzzed again. Another message from the real estate agent: Found a few studio options, but deposits are firm. Let me know when you're ready to proceed.
Aliana locked her phone and rubbed her forehead. "Yeah, when I magically start making triple my salary," she whispered under her breath.
A soft ache pressed against her temples. She thought about her apartment back home—the soft sheets, the smell of her mother's perfume lingering in the hallway, the way the lights always felt warm there. Now it was just her, the heavy bag on the seat beside her, and a dwindling bank balance that made her stomach twist with anxiety.
When her phone lit up again, she froze. Mom.
She stared at the screen until it stopped ringing, but then it started again. The thought of hearing her mother's voice made her chest tighten. She sighed and pressed "answer."
"Hello." Her voice was hoarse.
"Aliana," Samara's tone was strained, as if she'd been crying. "Sweetheart. Just come back home. We can talk things out in the morning. We will meet the new guy as well I promise just come back home. You don't have to do this all of a sudden. It is going to be hard on you."
"I'm fine, Mom," Aliana cut in, her throat tightening. "Really, I am. I just need to figure things out on my own. Please don't worry."
"Aliana, listen to me—"
"I can't talk right now. I'm driving." Her voice cracked. "I'll call you later, I promise."
Before Samara could say another word, Aliana ended the call and set the phone face down beside her. The screen's glow faded, and she finally let the tears that had been building spill over.
She wiped her face quickly and started the engine driving a little more hoping their was a mistake. .
The roads narrowed as she followed the map's directions. The city lights thinned out until only the occasional streetlamp illuminated the cracked sidewalks and closed storefronts. When she finally turned the last corner, she saw the Blue Moon Inn again...half hidden between two taller, grimier buildings. A few motorcycles were parked haphazardly out front. Music leaked faintly from somewhere nearby, muffled but rhythmic.
Aliana parked across the street, staring at the building.
"This can't be the place," she whispered. The website photos had shown clean hallways and a bright reception desk, not this dim lobby with peeling paint and flickering bulbs.
She sat for another full minute before finally grabbing her bag from the backseat. Her fingers trembled slightly as she locked the car, the click echoing down the quiet street.
"Just one night," she told herself under her breath. "Just one night, then I'll figure something out tomorrow."
She squared her shoulders, took a breath, and started toward the glowing entrance of the Blue Moon Inn.
Aliana slammed her car door shut and adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder. The air smelled faintly of smoke and something sour, and the longer she looked around, the more she realized she'd taken a wrong turn—both literally and maybe in life too. The sign of the motel flickered weakly, one letter out, and the street was narrow, wrapped in shadows even though it wasn't that late.
She took a hesitant step forward, her heels tapping against the uneven pavement. Right by the entrance, two people were pressed against the wall, kissing so violently that it looked like they were trying to devour each other. The woman's laughter was sharp and sloppy, the man's hands sliding everywhere. When they stumbled back and nearly collided into her, Aliana jerked away fast, disgust twisting her face. She muttered something under her breath and tried not to make eye contact as she hurried inside.
The lobby wasn't much better. The lighting buzzed like an insect, and the smell of cheap perfume, sweat, and cleaning chemicals fought in the air. Behind the counter sat a woman who looked like she hadn't cared about anything in at least ten years. Her blonde hair had pink streaks, her mascara was clumped, and she was busy filing her nails with a bubble of gum popping between each stroke.
When she finally looked up, her eyes swept Aliana from head to toe—expensive shoes, neatly pressed shirt, gold chain around her neck. "You alone?" the woman asked, voice flat but laced with something mocking.
Aliana blinked, unsure why the question even needed to be asked, then gave a small nod.
The woman leaned back, gum popping again. "So, you bringing your own guy, or you want to pick from our men?"
For a moment, Aliana just stared at her, thinking she must've misheard. "What?" she asked, her voice a mix of confusion and disbelief.
The woman sighed dramatically. "Sweetheart, we don't judge here. Just tell me what kind of night you're lookin' for."
Aliana stepped back slightly, her face draining of color. "I just want a room," she said stiffly, holding up her phone with the motel's listing pulled up. "It says you have cheap rooms available."
The woman stared for a second, then laughed—a raspy, amused laugh that made Aliana's stomach twist. "Oh, that's what you meant." She reached under the counter and pulled out a brass key on a chipped tag. "Fifty dollars."
Aliana quickly took out a fifty and placed it on the counter. Just as she reached for the key, the woman snatched it back with a smirk.
"If you change your mind," she said, leaning forward, "our cheapest guy's also fifty."
Aliana's jaw clenched. She snatched the key from her hand and turned away without a word. Behind her, the woman laughed again, the sound cutting through the air like something sticky and mean.
As Aliana climbed the narrow stairs to the first floor, the walls shook faintly from the noise leaking out of the rooms—moans, laughter, loud music, someone arguing in the distance. The carpet was damp in spots, the air heavy and stale.
She reached her room door, slid the key in with trembling fingers, and stood there for a long second before turning the handle. "I can't believe i am doing this." Aliana was on the verge of crying when she entered the room.
The room was worse than she expected. The air smelled of sweat and something moldy, like the carpet hadn't been cleaned in years. The walls were stained in odd patches, and the flickering pink and red lights gave the place an unsettling glow, as if it couldn't decide whether to be seductive or sickly.
Aliana stood near the door, her skin crawling. Her instinct screamed at her to leave, but she had nowhere else to go. She tested the sheets with her fingertips and exhaled when she realized, at least, they seemed clean. The only mercy in this dump.
The heat was unbearable. She crossed the room to the small window, tugged the curtains aside, and nearly gagged at how dusty they were. She grabbed the latch, trying to open it, but her stomach dropped when she realized the glass was sealed shut from the outside. No air, no escape.
"Perfect," she muttered, half laughing, half ready to cry.
She turned away from the window and sat on the edge of the bed. Her bag slid from her shoulder and landed beside her feet with a soft thud. After a few seconds of silence, she reached inside and pulled out the one thing that still felt familiar—her diary.
Her hands trembled slightly as she flipped to the latest page.. The date at the top read 24th May 2024. Today.
Her breath caught as she read.
Dear Diary,
Today I was so horrified. I almost got killed. I can't believe i am still alive, My hands are shaking just by thinking about it. Today on my way back from work this man attacked me, he choked me and was trying to drag me to an alley. It was very dark and---
Aliana's heart dropped into her stomach. She froze, staring at the page until the words started to blur.
Her throat tightened. What the hell is this supposed to mean? she thought with utter confusion as for the first time the content of the diary were not right. As nothing of that sort has happened today thought she felt the chills up her body. Her eyes instnly shot up because suddenly there was a commotion outside the door.
And just then, the door slammed open with a deafening crack, the knob smashing against the wall. Aliana jumped up, the diary flying out of her hands. And came a man charging into the room as if this place belonged to him.