Prologue
By seaempty. Thursday, 1. February 2007, 12:27:14
If the noise of the rain beating against my window hadn't already woken me up, the sound of the fist thumping against my door certainly would have. Bleary eyed, I walked towards the front door. I could make out the shape of a man through the frosted glass - a short and skinny man. A man who was going to break my door down, if I didn't answer it soon. I undid the latch and opened the door. The man looked at me with a sly grin on his face. I recognised him immediately. I didn't know his name, but everyone around here called him "The Postman". He stretched out one of his wet, skinny arms, and handed me a package. I went to take it from him, but his bony fingers remained clasped around it. I could tell from the look in his eyes that he wanted a tip. I didn't intend to give this schmuck any money, and I don't think he'd appreciate some good advice. I snatched the package from him, and slammed the door. I may live to regret that, but at that moment I couldn't care less. It was early and I was hungover. It felt like a woodpecker was having a party in my head, and he had invited all his friends over for cocktails.
I placed the package down on the coffee table, and slumped on the couch. I stared at it for a couple of minutes without moving. I wasn't expecting anything, and it sure as hell wasn't my birthday. I checked the post mark; it was from the US of A. What could Uncle Sam's boys possibly be sending me? I guess the only way I was going to find out was to open it. I grabbed my penknife, and began to slice open the envelope. I parted the opening with my fingers and peered inside. The package contained a box. I turned the envelope upside down, and let the box spill out onto the table. It was a small, flat, square box, covered in a shiny, clear material. I picked it up to get a closer look - there were words and pictures written on all sides of the box. I ignored my dishevelled reflection on the shiny material, and examined the writing. In big letters were the words "Hotel Dusk: Room 215". Was this a message? Some sort of invitation? Where was this hotel, and what had happened in this room? I decided that like Pandora's, this box had to be opened for it's secrets to be revealed.The box was tougher than I thought. Whatever was kept inside, wanted to remain inside. The transparent cover hugged the box like a greedy dame's hand clamped around a diamond. They were best friends alright, but I had to break this union if I wanted to solve this mystery. I tore off the cover, and carefully opened the box. Inside it was a small plastic square, and a set of instructions. The instructions were clear and thorough; the band had struck up a tune, and I was expected to dance. It was obvious that this tiny piece of plastic was important, and all my experience told me that it was the key to unravelling this thing. I just had to find the lock and turn it.
It looked like someone wanted me to play a little game, and I wasn't in the mood for snakes and ladders.
To be continued...









CaptainSeagull # 1. February 2007, 14:32
DotEd # 1. February 2007, 15:16
drlaunch # 1. February 2007, 15:29
coxy # 1. February 2007, 15:39
I'll let them know you've got hold of it too.
Säm # 1. February 2007, 18:55
G-off # 1. February 2007, 19:12