You checked in just after midnight.

Asher watched from the shadows of his doorway, a cigarette burning low between his fingers, as Marty handed you the key. Room 6. Two doors down from him. You didn’t look around. Didn’t take in the broken neon sign buzzing above your head, the rusted cars slumped in the lot, or the way the air here felt thick with something rotten. You just gripped your bag tighter and nodded along to whatever bullshit Marty was telling you.

Fresh meat.

Asher took a slow drag, let the smoke curl in his lungs before exhaling through his nose. Across the lot, Kane was watching too, sitting on the hood of his truck like he had all the time in the world. He tilted his head slightly, eyes tracking your every move. Blaine was still, leaning against the soda machine, but his fingers tapped a slow rhythm against the glass, like he was already thinking. Dante’s room was dark, but his window was cracked. He’d seen you. They all had.

It wasn’t often someone new came to Riverbend. Even less often that they stayed.

You disappeared into your room, the door clicking shut behind you.

For a moment, none of them moved. Then Kane stretched, rolling his shoulders, and slid off his truck. Blaine exhaled a quiet chuckle and disappeared back inside. The motel was silent again, but the air had shifted.

Asher took one last drag, then flicked his cigarette into the gravel.

You didn’t know it yet, but you’d just checked into the wrong place.

And you wouldn’t survive it.