NoodleNumies
The One and Only
----> Buzzing.
----> A low hum of a monotone melody.
----> Darkness and light push and pull behind my eyes, sleep and reality fighting for my attention.
----> The buzzing.
----> Something both unfamiliar and comforting in the sound. I feel the course carpet under me, unyielding to my bones, forcing my back into uncomfortable straight shape.
----> My senses bring themselves back to me; a light buzzing of something electrical, the rough feeling of cheap flooring, the danger in the unfamiliarity in my surroundings.
----> My eyes fling open, my muscles tensing and shooting me up in a sit-up position on the floor. The song of my deep beating heart drums in my ears and throughout my body, drowning out the low humming. My eyes, again, flick around the room. I am sitting in the middle of some kind of long hallway, lined with elderly looking furniture. The couches and chairs have yellowish-white cushions, indented with the seats of many wondering souls, triangle-patterned material that's been worn over several years leaves small windows peaking to the cedar wood frames. Sitting next to the mature cushioned seats are matching cedar wood nightstands and long, thin tables, topped with green and pink glass lampshades and painted gold structures, their siblings hanging off the walls above them, dangling their ceramic covers with matching blue and green flowers decorating over once white crystal plastic, now tainted with yellow. The walls and floors themselves are lined with cheap, ancient wallpaper, and cheesy plastic matting respectively.
----> My memory is hazy, I do not remember how I got in this hotel, nor what I was doing beforehand. I get to my feet, looking behind me. I see no front counter, neither any kind of elevator as these types of buildings use. I pat my pockets, thinking I might have my wallet or some kind of key card that might hint at who I am or what I was doing. I notice my cyan backpack lying on the floor beside me, and enjoy the little releaf I feel. I find an ID with a woman in the picture. She seems almost beautiful, if it not for the weird lighting or posing of the picture itself.
----> Her name is next to it: Enkindle McTyre. I wonder if that's me.
----> I stick it back into its' leather casing, finding a $5 bill and a few other credit or debit cards accompping it. Putting it back into my pocket, I also find a different card. It's in the shape of a paying card, only it has a single number on it: 1545. I put it back in my pocket too. Rummaging through my backpack I find a few other useful things, finding more comfort in keeping my pepper spray in my jean pockets for more easy access in this bizarre environment.
----> Next: Find out where the fuck I am and how to get out.
----> I swing my pack, nesting its' straps on my shoulders and move towards one of the many doors in this hallway. Reaching for the knob, I rattle it only to find out it's locked. After careful contemplation and over-thinking, I finally notice the black box on the doorframe. A keypad. I take the card with the number on it back out, again, it reads 1544. I press it against the plastic case and a green neon light flashes on it's head followed by a satisfying click. I try the knob again, and it swings open without any trouble.
----> A low hum of a monotone melody.
----> Darkness and light push and pull behind my eyes, sleep and reality fighting for my attention.
----> The buzzing.
----> Something both unfamiliar and comforting in the sound. I feel the course carpet under me, unyielding to my bones, forcing my back into uncomfortable straight shape.
----> My senses bring themselves back to me; a light buzzing of something electrical, the rough feeling of cheap flooring, the danger in the unfamiliarity in my surroundings.
----> My eyes fling open, my muscles tensing and shooting me up in a sit-up position on the floor. The song of my deep beating heart drums in my ears and throughout my body, drowning out the low humming. My eyes, again, flick around the room. I am sitting in the middle of some kind of long hallway, lined with elderly looking furniture. The couches and chairs have yellowish-white cushions, indented with the seats of many wondering souls, triangle-patterned material that's been worn over several years leaves small windows peaking to the cedar wood frames. Sitting next to the mature cushioned seats are matching cedar wood nightstands and long, thin tables, topped with green and pink glass lampshades and painted gold structures, their siblings hanging off the walls above them, dangling their ceramic covers with matching blue and green flowers decorating over once white crystal plastic, now tainted with yellow. The walls and floors themselves are lined with cheap, ancient wallpaper, and cheesy plastic matting respectively.
----> My memory is hazy, I do not remember how I got in this hotel, nor what I was doing beforehand. I get to my feet, looking behind me. I see no front counter, neither any kind of elevator as these types of buildings use. I pat my pockets, thinking I might have my wallet or some kind of key card that might hint at who I am or what I was doing. I notice my cyan backpack lying on the floor beside me, and enjoy the little releaf I feel. I find an ID with a woman in the picture. She seems almost beautiful, if it not for the weird lighting or posing of the picture itself.
----> Her name is next to it: Enkindle McTyre. I wonder if that's me.
----> I stick it back into its' leather casing, finding a $5 bill and a few other credit or debit cards accompping it. Putting it back into my pocket, I also find a different card. It's in the shape of a paying card, only it has a single number on it: 1545. I put it back in my pocket too. Rummaging through my backpack I find a few other useful things, finding more comfort in keeping my pepper spray in my jean pockets for more easy access in this bizarre environment.
----> Next: Find out where the fuck I am and how to get out.
----> I swing my pack, nesting its' straps on my shoulders and move towards one of the many doors in this hallway. Reaching for the knob, I rattle it only to find out it's locked. After careful contemplation and over-thinking, I finally notice the black box on the doorframe. A keypad. I take the card with the number on it back out, again, it reads 1544. I press it against the plastic case and a green neon light flashes on it's head followed by a satisfying click. I try the knob again, and it swings open without any trouble.
