Welcome to Heartbreak Motel, where the lights are always low.

It’s late, really late, and you’ve been driving for  hours. You need to take a rest or face the possibility of an accident. The radio has stopped working for so long you are in a state of insomnia. Suddenly, a dim neon light at the side of the road catches your attention. You can’t quite read all the words but you must rest. You enter the small road and soon you are in an open area with a badly lit motel standing before you.

You get out of the car. The neon flashes ominously “Heartbreak Motel”. Shoud suit you. You wander around a bit, the breeze chills colder here. You follow the rusy sign that indicates the reception lobby, not really paying too much attention. All you need is some rest and clear your head.

The door creeps open. Inside there is no one. The lights let you see almost anything yet, in the reception desk, something is shining. You come closer. There is a small silver key and its keychain writes “Room 101″. You pick it up, confused, and decide to get out and find that room.

You walk faster. The night still emanates that ominous chill. You reach the small houses that are, probably, the main rooms. No other car is there. Room 101 must be near.

The first door reads “Room 101″. It’s here. You almost cry, the key shakes in your hand. You are getting considerably tired, almost fainting, but ahead lies your long-awaited rest. You open the door, still shaking and enter. The inside is completely dark. You catch the glimpse of a lamp near the bed. You flip the switch and you see.

And you realise that the blood has been in your hands all of the time, but it’s no use to wipe it out now.