I'm utterly baffled by what just transpired. The last memory I have is cruising in the car, turning into the motel's parking lot. And now, here I am, sprawled across a bed in one of the rooms, with no recollection of how I got here. It's disorienting, to say the least.
As my senses slowly come to life, the first thing that hits me is the noxious odor hanging in the air. The room reeks of a nauseating blend of mold and sweat, assaulting my nostrils and making my stomach churn. It's an unsettling introduction to my surroundings.
Taking in the scene, the dismal state of the place becomes painfully apparent. The carpet beneath me is worn and frayed, bearing the scars of time. The curtains hang lazily, their surfaces marred by visible layers of dust, a testament to the neglect this room has s
