Part 1: The Missing

....................Simon?! SIMON, WHERE ARE YOU?!!!!.............. SIMON!! SI- ........................AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! MY BABY!!! MY LITTLE GIRL....!!! NOOOO!!!

Mom!! Where's Lacy?!! Mom!!! Wha-?! Oh my God! OH MY GOD!!! NOOOO!! Not Lacy!! Nooooooooo!!!!!
It should've been me.... It should've been fucking me....

Why Lacy..? Why her..?

Why her..?

Why...........

............her........?

25 years later....

Vvvvvvvvrrroooooooooooom!

Simon Adams is a tall slightly awkward and extremely geeky looking man. He had just left his hometown of Mesa, Arizona and drove all the way to California. He bought a U-Haul truck, filled it up with all his home stuff, furniture, supplies, and television sets, and drove away from Arizona. He was formerly a very successful podcaster of a podcast he named the Pinhead Network, but has quit right before he decided to move out.

As Simon drove by the large and slightly smoky mountains, he could feel several bumps from the bumpy roads he drove on. He scratched his black shaggy and sweaty hair and pushed up his sunglasses as they almost fell off. He is wearing a black buttoned shirt tucked into his blue jeans. He found a hotel at the side of the road and immediately drove to it. He parked his truck on several parking spots and slowly opened his door without climbing out of the truck. He turned and looked around still sitting in his car. He let out a sigh and climbed out of his truck and closed the door behind him. He walked up to the big hotel and looked up at it. "............." He didn't say a word and walked into the hotel. In the lobby was a desk with a concierge typing paperwork on his computer in between two separate elevators. Simon walked up to the desk and pressed on the concierge bell several times.

"My apologies, sir." The concierge said with a British accent. "I'll be right with you. Just give me a sec." He continued working on his computer while Simon stood in front of the desk expressionless. He looked at the silver elevators and wondered if they were shined everyday.

"Sorry, sir. I'm just about done." The concierge said, turning to face Simon. "Lovely to see you, sir. My name is Bevans. Bevans Judith. How may I help you?" Simon stared at Bevans still expressionless.

"Umm, you gonna say something, sir?" Bevans asked, tilting his head. "Or do you want me to speak for you?"

Simon pointed up. Bevans made a confused expression with his old timey look.

"Would you like a room?" Bevans asked. Simon nodded his head. "Okay, sir. You'll just need to sign here and you'll get your key to your room. And, I might pick out a special room JUST for YOU, sir. You will love it!" Bevans nudged a clipboard towards Simon and Simon began filling out the sheet on said clipboard. He nudged it towards Bevans right after he finished it. Bevans took the clipboard and handed Simon a keycard.

"You're gonna enjoy your stay here at the hotel very much, sir." Bevans said. "You're our 1000th guest and the reward for that is free breakfast in bed. Now, if you don't mind me asking, what would you like to eat, sir?" Simon remained silent.

"........Would you like to see the menu later, sir?" Bevans asked. Simon nodded as he took the keycard from Bevans.

"Excellent!" Bevans exclaimed. "Now, before you go up to your room, you'll need to park your truck somewhere else. It's taking more than one space." Simon looked behind him and then faced Bevans again. "Now, sir," Bevans continued, "if you don't mind me asking so, what brings you to California?" Yet again, Simon didn't answer.

"Could you please speak up, sir?" Bevans asked. "If we're gonna get acquainted, you must speak instead of keeping your tongue in your mouth."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't that sound gay?" Simon finally spoke.

"Oh, so you CAN speak." Bevans said. "And, by the way, sir, I AM gay!"

"Huh. Never seen a gay butler before." Simon cracked without smiling.

"For your information, Mr. Adams, I am a fucking concierge." Bevans said. "And, I also happen to be a professional golfer."

"Butlers can be golfers too." Simon said.

"Just park your damned truck somewhere else and go to your room." Simon snapped. Without feeling even the slightest amount of intimidation, Simon once again nodded.

After Simon parked his truck at the truck parking lot behind the hotel, he went back into the hotel, went up the elevator, and made his way through the hallway. He walked through the halls and stopped in front of the door to his room. He read the number on the door, "666." He shook his head and saw that the number actually said, "765." Simon took his keycard and used it to open the door. It had three beds and two television sets with actual Blu-ray players. Yet, Simon was less than impressed. He laid on the middle bed and stared at the white ceiling.

You should've been there.... Simon sat up and looked around. It's all your fault..... All your fault........... Allllllll............yoooouurrrr.........ffaaaaaauuulllllllllt........... He began breathing frantically and then stopped and took several slow deep breaths. The voices in his head vanished. He slowly laid back down onto his bed.

Calm your ass down.. He thought. You're not in Arizona anymore. You're starting a new life. Soon, you'll put everything behind you.

Night...

Simon slept on his bed without getting in the covers or changing into something more comfortable. He snored loudly into the quiet, quiet hotel atmosphere.

"Simon?!" A voice called out. "Simon!! Help me!! Help me!" Simon sat up and got off his bed. He frantically looked around. "I'm outside the room, Simon!" The voice echoed a somewhat ghostly echo. "Save.........me...........I'm...........dying." Simon ran up to the door and slowly opened it. He walked out still holding the door open. But, the door suddenly closed itself. Simon turned around and tried to get the door open, checking his pockets for his keycard. He left it inside his room.

"Simon..........................Si...................mon........................" The voice grew louder. "Save............me.....................help.." Simon walked along the hallway, following the voice. For some reason, the hallway was much longer than before. He continued walking through the hallway and still haven't reached the end of it. "Simon............. Siiiiiiiiimooooooooonnn...." The voice continued to echo in the hallway. "Simon?! Simon!! HEEELLLPPP!!" The voice suddenly grew louder causing Simon to stop dead in his tracks. Then, Simon began to sink into the floor. He struggled and struggled to get out, but he continued to sink into the floor. He stopped when the floor reached his neck. "Siiiiiiiiiiimooooooon...." The voice became quiet again. Blood began to drip from Simon's eyes. Then, his eyes exploded.

"Aaaaaugh!!" Simon jolted awake from his bed. He looked around and found himself in his room. He touched his eyes. No blood. He realized he had been dreaming. He fell back onto his bed and let out a relieved sigh.

The next morning...

Simon walked out of the elevator and walked up to the front desk where Bevans was attempting to solve a Rubik's cube.

"Damn cube is smarter than I thought..." Bevans mumbled. Simon suddenly took the cube from Bevans and looked at it. He fiddled with the cube and immediately solved it and gave it back to Bevans.

"How in God's name did you do that??" Bevans asked in awe. Simon pointed at his head.

"You have quite the talent, sir." Bevans said, still in awe. "Where did you learn how to solve a Rubik's cube?" Simon remained silent.

"Still giving me the silent treatment, eh, sir?" Bevans sighed, clearly expecting this. "I should start calling you silent Simon from now on."

"PLEASE do not call me that." Simon sighed, rolling his eyes. "That doesn't really fit well for me."

"Then, start talking more, sir." Bevans said, causing Simon to shake his head slowly. "Anyway, before you leave, here's your bill, sir." He nudged a clipboard with a large receipt towards Simon and Simon paid with his debit card and signed the receipt.

"I hope you enjoyed your stay here at the Lambrick Hotel." Bevans said with a smile. "Hope your drive is well, sir!" Simon nodded his head and walked off.

I swear, that kid won't have many friends if he doesn't talk much... Bevans thought.

Later...

Simon continued driving along the rocky street until he finally made it to the city he's moving to. He stopped his truck next to a green rusty sign. He looked out the window and the sign reads, "Welcome to I-Wood Cove." Under the text on the rusty sign is graffiti that reads, "Hell is safer than this." Simon looked at the sign in confusion and then took off.

Vrrrrooooooooommm!

Simon drove into a neighborhood full of slightly colorful houses. They were almost colorful enough to take Simon's sight away. He parked in front of a tall 3-story house. He opened his door and climbed out of the truck. Jesus Christ.... He thought. This must be the landlord's office. And, that house next door must be my new home. He looked at a plain white 2-story house that looked like a square with decorations on it. In front of it was a sign that reads, "SOLD." Well.. Simon thought. Guess I'm moving in. He walked up to the 3-story house and opened it's double door.