Strange visitor

John this is your friend Caroline back home in Alton; im writing to you with an update on things back home. Hope things are all well with you over in Vietnam. The summer of the flower children has nearly arrived to our little home town of Alton and mother is away on a business trip to that antique dealer she knows in the big city. So Im the one managing the motel single handly and all the local dramas that come with it. I say that half in jest because thats not all. I realise it hasnt been long since i last wrote but i must write to you about an event of the most usual manner.

The subject in question relates to the most profound experience; which now has me keeping up late at nights with the light on and nervous to fall asleep. I am writing to you about this because i have no one else i trust! to tell this story to, that not would have them think i have gone Loopy. I hardly know where to start with this story so i'll start with the most routine part of it, a guest arrived at my mothers motel almost two weeks ago now to the date signed to the letter. Anyway back to this visitor who paid for a room for three nights; he was dressed in well dressed black suit and tie business atire; and wearing a black fedora style hat. I'd guess from the raspyness of his voice and weathering of face he was about fifty.

He arrived carrying only a black business brief case which had initials embroided on it " "D.S.M." When i told him how much the room would be for three nights he reached into a suit; and pulled out a neatly bundled stack of hundred dollar notes; and i estimate he must of been carrying twenty thousand in that stack. He threw down five C notes and said keep the change. I diverge a bit, because the large sum of money he paid is really inconsequential to the real matter which disturbs me now about this strangers stay.I first noticed perculiarities about this man on the first eveningwhen he sat in the downstairs guest lounge. He sitted himself on the couch close to the fireplace. Well its in the middle of summer and he asked me to light the fire. I thought he was kidding and he said the motel has runs out of matches.

Anyway I went back an hour later after attending of old Miss Thorten; you know the one always complaining about the barking pit-ball. Anyway afterto attending to the evening routine of bringing her supper and sharing a glasses of cherry with the old lass; I went and checked back on this guy. To my surprise the fire was burning well. Although its more true to describe myself as dismayed seeing him sitting right ontop of this raging fireplace on a hot summers night. What more is he was still fully atired in his suit and wearing his hat. I joking said to him "where did you manage to find some matches."; where he then pointed downwards.

Upon the arm of the lounge chair I could see an open diary with a pen.So I quickly changed the subject to ask him if he was a writer. That henodded his head and said it was one of his livings. Not really knowing what he mean't I moved closer to him curious. There I was able to see his scrawling writings in the book in strange symbols and a picture of an inverted cross. You know my mother brought me up to a christen so the sight of an inverted cross found to very disconcerting. He could see that in my expression because he took his hat off and placed it over the diary. This was the second observation of strangeness.He then promptly asked me if I would like a drink of whiskey from a bottle that he must of retrieved from his suitcase. I courteously declined as my only vice with alchol is having one glass of cherry with Miss Thorten at her supper time.

Anyway with my nightly chores to complete; I did not procastenate from my evening chores and left this old man to his fire.I decided however I should make half hour tab checks on him to ensure he doesn't fall asleep in front of it. So in between my cleaning activities every half-hour I would glance into the lounge room. I could see from the glistening like of the fire the whiskey bottle's level had not diminished, it was still full. Then I realised I had been rude to not offer him a glass. So I asked him if he would like me to bring him one. Oddly however this question seem to startle him and he replied no that he had brought his own. He then produced a glass from his suitcase a goblet just like you see Kings and Queens drink from in movies. Just like those depictions this one was studded with jewels around its opening rim. It was at that moment I could hear the front counters bell ring.

Dismissing myself politely I found it to be a new customer is rocking up. A girl dressed in a hippies flower dress wearing an a ambulate with I swear a devils head on it. I stare at it and the girl asks if something is wrong and I say no; I was just thinking of what is the best room to place you in. I suggest the room thirteen which happens to be right next to the stranger. The girl smiles responding that will be perfect.

Story continues here>>>


Dismissing myself politely I found it to be a new customer is rocking up. A girl dressed in a hippies flower dress wearing an a ambulate with I swear a devils head on it. I stare at it and the girl asks if something is wrong and I say no; I was just thinking of what is the best room to place you in. "Oh yes there is a nice room right next to the strange, I mean new out of town vistor".The girl smiles responding that will be perfect.After checking the new arrival in and finishing my chores for the night I went back to glance upon him. There I found him speaking to an object he ws holding to his face in his hand. I did not manage to get a good look at what he was holding and pretended not to be listening when he lookedin my direction.

Not wanting to be accused of eavesdropping or spying I dismissed myself back to the motels front desk.There I stayed for hours and when it neared midnight wi figured i should go back and check on him at the fire.It was there I discovered him slumped in the couch with head to one side; with eyes closed; and hat in his hands. Well obviously this guy has fallen asleep. My impression is he must be quite inebriated as he is mumbling in his sleep and the whiskey bottle was completely emptied. The bottle itself had somehow balanced itself on the arm of the lounge chair and was glistening in light of the fire. It was then I noticed his face clearly for the first time. Hes a man of dark mediterranean complexion, like someone you would expect to meet from spain or italy. He has greying hair has receding at the front. There is also prominate deep lacerations scaring; to the left of his face on the forehead and temple.The tie hes wearing has been taken off and i an see a large burn scar on the side of his neck. Though its not a natural burn its formed into the symbol of a serpent.

His brief case is slumped open on the floor next to the chairs arm I see has nothing in it. This is surprising because the diary, is not with him and so I kneel down to try and find. It is then it tweaks in my head i see its silouhette; being consumed in the raging fire. Then my hand feels cold metal. I look down and see the rim of the goblet. Its somehow has fallen to the floor and nearly buried itself under the lounge Sofa. I retrieve it out carefully not to cause a disturbance that might wake him from his slumber. I hold the goblet to the firelight and see he facets of this vistor which is most disturbing. On the cup is ornated the symbol a horned devil and the other side of its roundness; a symbol of a five pointed star. Then at the base of the cup or this Golden Challice cup; is the best description of it is scribed a message.

"To my good friend the Devil Lucifer."

I then promptly got back to my feet and left the room as quitely as I could not daring to wake him. Once back at the lobby counter I started having thoughts of calling the police. Should I call and tell them i think there is an international thief of priceless antiquities staying at the hotel. Who knows mabey they are looking for this guy and there will be a reward for whoever gives information which leads to his arrest. That was not the real reason of course, the truth is what I had discovered had given me the creeps. A few minutes of pondering that idea rationally I went off it. I thought of the damage it could do to my mothers struggling motel business. If it turns out im wrong, then my actions will appear as a ridiculous vilification of a quests character. The customer is always right my mother always tells me, treat them right and they will you. Will with five C notes already paid I cannot argue with mothers logic. So i brushed it off and laughed telling myself I am imaginative idiot. I even fabricated a story to myself to explain this strange visitor. Obviously he must be a museum curator, who is travelling with some newly undug archelogical find to add to his museum public display collection. Now I think back at it obviously that was a ridiculous idea and I was proved right the next day by this.


The next day he came down from his room at about midday and thanked me for my actions and tipped me two hundred dollars. After that i decided not to think so much about the strangeness of this character.Though that all changed when I went up to his room and found a mummified corpse laying under the sheet of his bed. The features of the face were withered but the ammulate around her neck I recognised; it had the depiction of the horned devil.

Continued from above.


Of course I called the police but instead of getting one of our usual town deputies on the phone, the call automatically diverted to a voice who identified itself as belonging to federal law enforcement. building. The person on the phone hardly let me say two words before interrupting.

They said wait there our people will be right over and so I waited. I did not have to wait long because five minutes later where I am sitting on the porch getting myself some fresh air trying to think; when an ominous looking dark cadellic pulls up in front of the Motel. There from which steps out a man dressed in military uniforms followed by two other guys dressed in dark suits; wearing black hats and dark glasses. They walk up to me and the uniform addresses me directly "where is he?" and I replied meekly "hes gone, checked out a few hours ago".

Its then their mood becomes threatening and menacing " if your harbouring a criminal then you will an accomplice to a crime of national security importance".

I defended myself by reminding them it was I who called them to notify he had left a mummified corpse in his room. These strange dark suited men then looked at each-other and nodded. Then one looks back at me and asks "was this man holding an templars challice in his possession?".

I was about to answer when just then I was distracted by the sound of my mother's car honking its horn; she had returned from her business trip and I could see her hand out of the windowing waving at me. When I turned back around all the three men had vanished and there was neither no sign of their cadellic. I asked my mother did she see the men and she said what men and declared " I only could see you talking to yourself".

John my friend, you may think by now I am going mad, but i tell you my friend I am not! I can prove it to. I did not dare explain these events to my mother because she is a very devote in Catholic religous belief and goes to church every Sunday morning. If I were to try and explain this episode of high strangeness she would surely be grabbing me by arm and hauling me to the parish in a panic. There crying her daughter is possessed by a devil. I therefore decided I will not say a word of the events which occurred and would focus my efforts to writing this letter to you.

I cant explain any more now; i am very tired and at the time of writing this letter i can barely keep my eyes open. I have not had a decent sleep for three days now. In fact its my hope I will wake after a good sleep to find I dreamed all this. If not then hopefully the slumber will of made me resistant to a dreadful thought. That of the the strange men in the cadellic returning. I am however so tired now and will finish this letter and give it to the postman who has arrived.

Ps. I know you have your own problems to deal with there, which are infinitely if not greater than what I have confided to you in my story. It escapes me however who else I can feel trust to tell this story to and no longer even able to dwell on that insecurity.

You good friend Alice.