Warning Bells
@thesefacesinthecrowd — random starter with TRIXI
     “Okay, something definitely isn't right.” Her voice hitches with the effort to remain calm. Any exuberance she usually exudes mutes under the oppressive weight of an ominous cloud roaming around her. She crosses her arms and rubs away goosebumps, mitigates slight trembles, as she suspects more than just the chill, stale air at fault.
     At first impression, the motel lobby appears dingy, dull, like a pending health code violation from how unkempt it is. Layers of dust coat old, scuffed furniture that look perserved from the 1940s. Checkered wallpaper has lost most of its color while jagged rips and flaky peels sews hazardly through thin material. Beneath the eyesore, cracks splinter the plaster peeks beneath, dotted with mold. The fact the front doors are open, but the entrance is empty, no employee in sight, adds to her sense of foreboding.
     “There's gotta be better options than this...” She frowns.
     Feeling like she's being watched, Trixi can't decipher if her caution is paranoia from overthinking or intuition about an immiment omen. Pickings are slim late at night when far from home, but Trixi wants to turn back, search for a better alternative than this rundown deathtrap. Something about this place blares all her warning bells.
