Room 44 is standard for a hotel. The doorknob had a plastic sign on it that read, ‘Gone Swimming.’ You guess that the person booked in this room has gone for a swim. You might see them later.
You look around.
A bedroom with a double bed, with a painting of Niagara Falls hung above it.
On the wall on the opposite side is a flat screen TV, which was left on. It’s playing some film about two guys who just arrived in a White Castle restaurant.
Under the TV is a counter, with the room service book, a half-bitten cookie, a few bottles of water a coffee machine and an ice bucket. Your instinct tells you not to touch that bucket. There’s a corner of the room dedicated to the bathroom. Mostly tidy, though there is a white towel hanging from the bath, trailing to the floor.
The curtains are nearly shut, where the light sneaking though are making oddly shaped shadows on the walls. One in particular is a shadow shaped like a knife, projected on the ceiling, above the bed. That’s a little bit concerning.