The Revenants by Castle Jack

Author:Castle, Jack [Castle, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-05-27T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Welcome to the Paradise Motel Diner

Brushing herself off Becca crossed the parking lot without further incident and reached the diner. A sheet metal awning covered a quaint wooden planked porch out front. On the deck, all the summer tables and chairs had been stacked and covered with a tacky blue tarp universal to every state and country on the planet.

Bells jangled overhead as she entered and when the door closed behind her it was a blessed break from the constant wind assaulting her ears.

The diner had a checkerboard tiled floor and countertops. Stools with faded red cushions sat posted at the counter, and equally worn candy-striped couches served as booths. An old television hung in the corner near the ceiling. The TV dated the place a bit but for the most part the joint was clean. Despite the circumstances, she liked it. It was her kind of place; what truckers liked to call a real dive.

(How charming)

And it was more than the cheery décor; the café didn’t have that creepy-vibe she got from the motel across the highway. She was forced to wonder, what is it about the motel? She didn’t recall hearing Donnie’s voice as much the farther they got away from it. If that was the case, why? Why did the motel seem like a nexus for evil?

Oh, I’m evil now? Even sounding far away Donnie’s voice sounded petulant.

(That shoots down that theory)

Despite hearing Donnie’s voice, Becca still didn’t feel the same way she did back in the motel. Only on the cusp of it, like how one feels at a zoo on the opposite side of the glass of a charging gorilla, but at least you’re not inside the pen.

Even Donnie seemed a bit diminished now, almost pleading. No, pouting was a better word.

(A pouting child. Now there is a good analogy for what Donnie really is. What? Too much? We’re not telling them that yet? I am Sooooo sorry. I did it again. Please continue. It sounds like Donnie is jabbering on about something anyway.)

Wasn’t I the one who told you to run away from the Christmas Kewpie Doll? Wasn’t I the one who told you to leave that possessed Bible alone. If you had listened to me in the first place you wouldn’t be…

Wouldn’t be what?

When Donnie didn’t answer her right away, Becca asked again, ‘Wouldn’t be what, Donnie? Tell me.’

No answer. And Becca noted that in the end, Donnie’s voice sort of faded away.

‘Good riddance.’

The PFFTTT…PFFTTT…PFFTTT… of the multiple paddle fans overhead only added to the place’s warmth and she felt the sound comforting somehow.

The kitchen and counter were separated from the main dining room by a short retaining wall. She could hear casual conversation and laughter coming around its corner and by the sound of the clinking utensils on ceramic plates, the joint was packed.

A feeling of blessed familiarity washed over her. The house spiders, haunted Bible, and constant feeling of eminent death, all of it seemed a bit silly to her now.

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