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<blockquote data-quote="johndaw16" data-source="post: 2204698" data-attributes="member: 12033"><p><strong>Ghosts of the Past: Episode II...Toe-Tapping Tourist Town</strong></p><p></p><p><strong>Sunday, Oct. 1st...5:30 PM </strong> </p><p></p><p>The EconoLodge sat on Richmond Rd., one hotel in the long line of tourist pleasing establishments in Williamsburg’s commercial center. The group broke into pairs, Rich and Jessica followed by Po and Mer. Their arrivals spaced by a few minutes wait. They met in the hotel hallway just beyond the ice machines, everyone’s nerves a bit on edge, dreading what they might find in the room. </p><p></p><p>“You know we should get concealed carry permits one day.” Jessica commented, as she caught Po adjusting the sawed-off shotgun beneath her baggy hooded sweatshirt. She turned to Po, “Do you know any good ways to break into a hotel room?” </p><p></p><p>Po smirked. “Yeah, there’s my foot.” </p><p></p><p>The reservation confirmation listed AJ’s room as 216; they called ahead on the off chance someone was there. No one answered. If AJ was there nobody was betting he’d be in any shape to talk. The elevator ride was tense and quiet. They hit the second floor filing out of the elevator ready for business. Everyone crowded around the door to 216, checking left and right for witnesses. </p><p></p><p>The door frame rattled from Po’s kick, the sound of it echoed down the hall. Subtly just was not her strong suit. Rich and Mer flanked Po, guns up. Jessica held back nervously looking either way, hoping no one was around. Luckily most of the guests were at dinner or out still with tour groups. Po stepped into the room, slowly pulling her Desert Eagle from the back of her jeans. </p><p></p><p>Po sighed and put her gun away, “There’s no one here. It’s just AJ’s junk.” Everyone started to squeeze into the room. </p><p></p><p>Jessica pulled the door shut after everyone, hiding them from any passerby. The room, like AJ’s home, was a mess. Pizza boxes and takeout cartons spilled from the woefully inadequate trash can. Crushed Doritos dusted the bed, clothes and luggage sat piled in a corner. A half finished two liter of Coke sat next to the phone book on the bedside table. </p><p></p><p>Rich picked his way through the room, using everything he’d learned in his short stint as a detective for the NNPD. Everyone followed Rich’s lead and minutes later the entire room had been combed for clues. </p><p></p><p>“I wonder why it’s so cold in here?” Jessica went to the AC by the window, rubbing her arms. Goose bumps running down her arms. </p><p></p><p>“I dunno, but there’s nothing here that gives us a clue where AJ’s at.” Mer stood in the middle of the room, her frustration apparent. “Let’s get outta here. This is just a dead end” </p><p></p><p>“Wait! Come look at this guys.” Jessica was bent over the AC unit, looking at the floor just in front of it. </p><p></p><p>The smell of burnt fabric was what caught her attention. Jessica’s fingers traced the outline of a footprint in the carpet. Probably a size ten, only the imprint of the toes and ball of the foot showed. The foot had burned the carpet, the synthetic fabric melted and fused together. Her gazed traveled up the AC unit, <em>there</em> on the small temperature knob. A finger shaped imprint melted into the black plastic of the knob. </p><p></p><p>“<strong>He </strong> was here.” Jessica looked back to everyone else. </p><p></p><p>Her assumption needed no other confirmation. Dantalion had been in the room. In the group’s estimation AJ’s chances of survival were odds that no bookie would take.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="johndaw16, post: 2204698, member: 12033"] [b]Ghosts of the Past: Episode II...Toe-Tapping Tourist Town[/b] [B]Sunday, Oct. 1st...5:30 PM [/B] The EconoLodge sat on Richmond Rd., one hotel in the long line of tourist pleasing establishments in Williamsburg’s commercial center. The group broke into pairs, Rich and Jessica followed by Po and Mer. Their arrivals spaced by a few minutes wait. They met in the hotel hallway just beyond the ice machines, everyone’s nerves a bit on edge, dreading what they might find in the room. “You know we should get concealed carry permits one day.” Jessica commented, as she caught Po adjusting the sawed-off shotgun beneath her baggy hooded sweatshirt. She turned to Po, “Do you know any good ways to break into a hotel room?” Po smirked. “Yeah, there’s my foot.” The reservation confirmation listed AJ’s room as 216; they called ahead on the off chance someone was there. No one answered. If AJ was there nobody was betting he’d be in any shape to talk. The elevator ride was tense and quiet. They hit the second floor filing out of the elevator ready for business. Everyone crowded around the door to 216, checking left and right for witnesses. The door frame rattled from Po’s kick, the sound of it echoed down the hall. Subtly just was not her strong suit. Rich and Mer flanked Po, guns up. Jessica held back nervously looking either way, hoping no one was around. Luckily most of the guests were at dinner or out still with tour groups. Po stepped into the room, slowly pulling her Desert Eagle from the back of her jeans. Po sighed and put her gun away, “There’s no one here. It’s just AJ’s junk.” Everyone started to squeeze into the room. Jessica pulled the door shut after everyone, hiding them from any passerby. The room, like AJ’s home, was a mess. Pizza boxes and takeout cartons spilled from the woefully inadequate trash can. Crushed Doritos dusted the bed, clothes and luggage sat piled in a corner. A half finished two liter of Coke sat next to the phone book on the bedside table. Rich picked his way through the room, using everything he’d learned in his short stint as a detective for the NNPD. Everyone followed Rich’s lead and minutes later the entire room had been combed for clues. “I wonder why it’s so cold in here?” Jessica went to the AC by the window, rubbing her arms. Goose bumps running down her arms. “I dunno, but there’s nothing here that gives us a clue where AJ’s at.” Mer stood in the middle of the room, her frustration apparent. “Let’s get outta here. This is just a dead end” “Wait! Come look at this guys.” Jessica was bent over the AC unit, looking at the floor just in front of it. The smell of burnt fabric was what caught her attention. Jessica’s fingers traced the outline of a footprint in the carpet. Probably a size ten, only the imprint of the toes and ball of the foot showed. The foot had burned the carpet, the synthetic fabric melted and fused together. Her gazed traveled up the AC unit, [I]there[/I] on the small temperature knob. A finger shaped imprint melted into the black plastic of the knob. “[B]He [/B] was here.” Jessica looked back to everyone else. Her assumption needed no other confirmation. Dantalion had been in the room. In the group’s estimation AJ’s chances of survival were odds that no bookie would take. [/QUOTE]
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