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When you awoke, it was 7 P.M..

Thin white curtains were drawn open on either side of the singular window in your motel room, exposing a darkening sky and unmoving clouds. You sat up and yawned, glancing around the room with bleary eyes. The stillness of the room was so serene. It was something to be cherished.

The motel was no expensive venue. It carried a homely vibe, with off-white striped wallpaper and navy blue carpets. The bedspread was all white and plain. There were two nightstands on either side of the bed, holding table lamps with blue lampshades. You had left them off before your nap, so the only light entering the room came from outside.

You stood and opened your suitcase. You unpacked what little items you had taken with you and chose a comfortable, but classy, outfit suitable for the chilly air outside. This was your first night here, so you planned to take a look around town, buy some groceries, and hopefully find some potential places to work if time allowed. However, you were still quite exhausted. It would take a couple of days for you to fully adjust yourself to this new place.

Once you were ready, you headed out. There was nobody at the check-in desk when you left the motel. Out of habit, you went to reach for your phone to look at maps and see if there was anywhere to eat nearby but, upon finding your pockets empty, you remembered that you had destroyed your phone before you left so they could not track you.

You sighed, irritated now. Perfect new life, you told yourself sarcastically.

You began to walk back to the intersection behind the train station so you could turn down a new road. The air was certainly chillier now than earlier, but the breeze had died down, as if silencing itself so the beautiful sunset could steal the spotlight. The birds were quiet aside from a few gentle sparrow chirps from up in the trees.

Eventually, you came upon a circular round-about in the road. Some homes stood on the opposite end, but next to you was a store. It was a squat blue building with a sign above the door that read: Howdy's Place. There were several wooden bins sitting against the exterior walls of the store holding fruits and vegetables. Groceries; exactly what you needed.

You entered the store. A quiet bell chimed over head, as if to let any employees know that you were entering, but the place appeared empty from here.

Suddenly, you felt another chill run down your spine and froze in the entrance. Someone was certainly here. But where? Who? Them?

"Good evening," a voice nearby — too nearby — said.

On your left, a man stood a couple feet away from you. He had appeared out of nowhere and was now quite close. You stared at him with wide eyes until the nerves in your stomach finally settled and the paranoid chill vanished from your skin.

"Hello," you replied. You were about to ask if he worked here before you saw the brown bag of shinning red apples in his hand. Definitely just a shopper. He was about your height, with lazy black eyes, a content smile, and a deep blue pompadour atop his head. The flashy haircut choice went well with his similarly flamboyant outfit: a blue top with pants that were vertically striped with multiple colors and a red ribbon tied around his neck. It suited his ordinary face shockingly well.

He watched you for a moment. His stare made you feel like his eyes were melting into yours; like in this moment, nothing mattered other than his eyes absorbing your presence.

"You're new around here, aren't you?" he asked finally. His voice was very pleasant, like that of a singer's.

"I... yes," you said. "I just got here by train. Looks like a small town..."

"It certainly is a small town, but I'm always open to making a new friend. We all are."

His eyes had not yet left yours, and his smile never so much as twitched. He gave off the vibe of a guy so charismatic that it was almost awkward to meet him. A guy who enjoyed knowing everyone in town, because it meant he was well connected; it meant he knew everything that went on with everyone. This much was easily gleaned by his behavior and appearance, and you made note of it.

"Well, I'm sure I'll see you around," you said, ready to leave the conversation so you could shake the feeling that had fallen over you. All you came for was groceries, and that was exactly all you planned to leave with.

You turned and started to walk away when he said, "You never asked for my name. Wouldn't you like to know?"

You stopped, paused, then turned back to face him. He was staring at you, smiling.

You chuckled. "What's your name?"

"Wally Darling! No comma in-between. I'll only call you darling once you're ready." His grin broadened. "What's your name?"

Remember the fake name. "I'm Charlie."

He nodded.

"It's been nice meeting you," you said.

With that, you turned around again and began to shop. You did not turn back around to see if Wally was still there.

Once everything you thought you would need for the next couple of days was stocked in the small red basket in your hand — which you snagged earlier from a stack of similar baskets against one of the walls — you headed to the back of the shop where a squat counter top sat. On the counter was a lonely grey register, very old-fashioned. Nobody stood behind the counter, but there was a door against the back wall.

You waited patiently. After a moment, you wondered if you should knock on the back door to get an employee, but just then, someone walked out.

The neutral expression on your face fell.

The man that exited had a face that was painted in green. That, however, was not what shocked you the most, for he had four arms, the two on his left holding a clipboard and a pencil, one on his right holding a bag, and the other on his right being held up next to his face, waving at you. "G'd evening!" he said. "What can I do for you?"

"Um, hello," you said. Your anxiety was obvious in your tone, so you cleared your throat and tried your best to hide it. "I just wanted to buy these groceries."

"Absolutely!" The employee walked out of the doorframe and towards the counter. That is when you realized he also had four legs.

This town was no longer perfect. It was weird.

Perhaps there had been a radiation leak nearby that turned all the residents into freaks. Maybe the government hid every bit of information about the disaster and that is why you could not find anything about this place online. Maybe you were going to turn into a freak if you stayed here.

You placed your items onto the counter and let the man scan them for you in silence. His multitude of arms allowed for quick scanning. There was a name tag on his apron that said Howdy! You did not know if that was his name or simply a cheery greeting for customers.

Once you paid, you swiveled around and darted for the door, grocery bag in hand and nearly tripping on your own feet. Howdy (you decided the tag on his apron was, in fact, his name) called a pleasant farewell after you, but you ignored him and burst outside. Once you were a few meters away from the store, you paused and took a deep breath, collecting yourself.

"Are you okay?"

You turned around slowly. The man who was shopping earlier was leaning against an apple bin outside of Howdy's Place. Wally. He was still holding the bag of apples from earlier, making you think that he had been waiting outside this whole time.

"Yeah," you said warily. "Thanks."

Wally smiled, sliding his hands in his pant pockets, letting the bag of apples hang on his wrist. "Where are you heading?" He took a couple steps towards you, those eyes of his melting into yours once again. You fought the urge to look away, but you did not respond, so he offered, "The motel?"

You smiled, but it was an uneasy smile that probably came off as odd. "Um, yeah. That's where I'm staying for tonight." You knew not to give strangers your address, but of course a new resident in a small town would be at the motel. There was no lying around that.

Plus, this stranger was especially persistent. However, he was friendly. It was part charming, part off-putting.

"We didn't get to chat much in there," he said, beginning to walk in the direction of the motel. "I figured I should walk you home so we could chat!" He walked past you, then turned around to face you again. "How does that sound?"

You decided to be bold. Perhaps it would come off as charming on your part. "Are you going to kidnap me?"

Wally laughed, his eyes scrunching up, but still never leaving yours. "No, Charlie, no. This town's much too small to do a thing like that, even if I wanted to — which I don't, I'll assure you."

You smiled, playfully, hoping that if you acted blasé, the nerves and paranoia that had your nerves frazzled would not show. "Fine. I trust you, Wally Darling."

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