061 ENCOUNTER AT THE MOTEL
"Why should I be bothered about the lives of others? They've done nothing for me", he repeated in his mind.
It was easier to ignore the fate of strangers. It would be harder when the missing face was someone you'd actually spoken to and had interactions. Those missing people were his classmates.
Damen drew a slow breath. The decision was against his instincts for survival.
"Alright," he said at last. "I'll go."
Lander gave a single nod. "Good. Get ready — we move tonight."
-----
Damen entered Motel Blue Moon with his face half-covered by a mask — a precaution in case anyone recognized him.
The motel was quiet, its neon sign flickering weakly over the cracked pavement. Inside, the air smelled faintly of disinfectant and cheap perfume. Only a few people loitered around the lobby.
A fat, bubbly man behind the counter greeted him the moment he stepped in. "Hey, mate! Looking for a room with company?"
Damen froze. "No— no, that's not—" he stammered, waving his hands in protest.
Before he could back out, a hand slapped his shoulder from behind.
"Damen Dark! I thought it was you." The voice was light, teasing and strangely, familiar. "Didn't know you'd come to a place like this. Who are you here with?"
Damen turned, and his heart nearly stopped.
It was Kurt.
Of all people, he was faced with the very subject he was investigating.
He tried to keep his composure but could only manage an awkward wave. "Oh, uh— hey, Kurt."
Kurt squinted. "Don't tell me you came here alone?"
"Damn it," Damen thought, panic spiking. "I can't let him know I'm investigating him."
The fat receptionist suddenly stepped in, grinning. "Here you go, sir! A hundred aurs for an hour — extra time, extra charge. Be gentle with my girl, yeah?" He shoved a room key into Damen's hand.
Damen's face burned scarlet.
He opened his mouth to protest, but Kurt's expression had already shifted — his suspicion melting into amusement.
"Well, well," Kurt said, smirking. "Even the class genius isn't above temptation. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me… maybe."
He chuckled and headed down the hall.
"Enjoy yourself, Damen."
Damen wanted to melt onto the floor in embarrassment.
"Perfect. Now he thinks I'm here for… that."
He waited until Kurt disappeared from sight, then turned back to the receptionist. "Hey, can you tell me what room my friend — the guy just now — is in? He asked me to meet him later but forgot to give me the number of his room."
The man frowned. "That's against privacy policy."
Damen passed him an aur card with a small change inside. "You can keep the change."
Then, lowering his voice, he nudged Damen toward a door nearby and pushed him inside. "But since you're a paying customer — your friend's in the next room. You can drop by after you're done with my girl." He winked and walked away.
Damen was too stunned to reply. He turned toward the door to leave when it creaked open.
A tall, busty woman stepped inside, her silhouette framed by the dim red light.
"You're a good looker, shall we begin?" she asked softly before pulling him inside.
-----
The woman didn't give Damen a chance to speak.
Before he could even react, he was flat on the bed, the sheets crinkling under his weight. She moved with practiced ease — confident, deliberate, and quick.
"Damn it, I didn't come here for this", Damen thought, his pulse racing.
But he was sixteen — curiosity had a way of fighting reason.
The woman's dress came undone in one smooth motion, revealing a body sculpted by experience rather than innocence.
Then the phrase hit him — "Curiosity killed the cat."
He pushed her back abruptly. "No… I didn't come here for this."
Her eyes flashed. "You've already seen me naked, kid. You're going to finish this and pay up, or you'll regret it," she snapped.
"Don't worry," Damen said quickly, sitting up. "I'll pay you in full — double, even."
That cooled her temper.
She raised an eyebrow, adjusting her dress. "Double, huh? Now we're talking. So, if you didn't come to screw me, what do you want? I'm not into your cosplay fantasies — no nurse uniforms or weird roleplay."
Damen shook his head. "No, no, that's…uniform… that's my friend's thing, not mine."
He sighed inwardly. "We should've sent Zairgid for this mission. He'd handle this way better."
He reached into his jacket and slid her an aur card — a modest sum, maybe two or three hundred. She smirked and tucked it neatly into her bra.
"Alright, sugar," she said. "Now talk. What are you really here for?"
Damen took a breath. "Do you know about the girl staying in the next room?"
The woman froze. Her smirk vanished. "Why do you want to know?"
He slipped her another aur card, this one heavier. That did the trick …. her shoulders loosened, and she leaned closer.
"She came here with a boy," the woman said softly. "Looked like a runaway pair. But here's the weird part — the girl never left the room. Not even once. Only the boy comes and goes… always with food, supplies, that sort of thing."
She looked over her shoulder nervously. "That's all I know. And that's all you should know, if you're smart. The boy's close to Fat Bucket out there, you know what I mean. If you try something funny?"
"Can you do me a favor, get Fat Bucket somewhere for a while", Damen asked the woman.
She merely touches her bra. Damen slipped another Aur card between them.
"Alright, just time for a quick one..", she said before quickly putting on her clothes and left the room.
-----
Damen waited a few breaths, then slipped out of the room.
From the corridor he couldn't see Fat Bucket at his desk. The woman he paid had done what he'd asked.
So, he crossed to the next door and rapped the wood; there was no answer.
He tried the handle, but it held fast. The door was locked.
"Come on—please answer. Fat Bucket or Kurt could walk in any minute," he muttered, making his voice small against the hallway's quiet.
Silence answered him like a held breath. Panic skittered under his skin. If anyone discovered him now, he'll ruin the operation. They'd move Sazie out of the place and she'd vanish for good.
Damen's mind kicked into overdrive.
He sprinted back to the management desk, rifled the cabinet and muttered, "Room 64," as his fingers closed on a ring of key cards. He snatched them up and slipped down the hall, every step a jolt of adrenaline pumping from his heart.
Before he reached the door a voice barked.
"Damen—are you still here? Enjoyed your meal yet?" Kurt's tone was a leering challenge.
Damen's chest tightened.
"Damn you, Kurt. I was this close," he thought.