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Shawn must’ve done something horribly wrong to end up here. At least, it seemed that way to him. He didn’t actually remember much from before becoming the proprietor of the Heartbreak Hotel. There wasn’t much to remember though, was there? That was always the thought that came across his mind when he tried to, and it quelled him. He looked out beyond the empty parking lot. It was horrible. It was lonely.
It wouldn’t be long before someone pulled up, needing a place to stay and a bed they wanted to share. It was almost always that way. They’d stay, and they’d stay, and they’d stay until Shawn satisfied them, and then they’d leave and almost never come back. Shawn didn’t mind the having sex, it was the lack of any other connection that pulled him apart and threatened to leave him in pieces. No one asked him why he was out here by himself or how he felt or even how his day was going. If they did, it was smalltalk. It didn’t really matter to them how he was. Or even, who he was. He’d heard countless names of other lovers when having sex. Not every single patron did that, but enough did that Shawn knew he didn’t matter to them.
Sometimes he felt like he only had himself to blame. After all, he played it all up. The sexy guy running the front desk, selling you a honeymoon suite and showing up practically naked in your bed. He had his part in the fantasy of the hotel. He enjoyed the attention. The way he took people’s breaths away, how irresistible he was. It was the only thing the hotel provided him with that mattered. And lately, it was getting stale.
So that was it. He just had to have done something absolutely awful to be stuck here. Leaning his chin into his palm, Shawn sighed. Only if he could remember what it was…
'Hearse With a Curse' played on low volume as The Undertaker drove through what seemed like a barren highway. He hummed along under his breath, always glad to only be in the company of himself and himself alone. He knew that no one would let him live this down if they ever saw it. After all, it was a little silly to be playing a song about a hearse while driving one. The undead mortician simply couldn’t travel on his bike today, he had too much to carry with him. No complaints from him either though, he was more than happy to pop in a Best of Halloween Music CD and drive.
The other nice thing about driving was that the undead spirits trapped on this plane of existence didn’t really have the ability to catch up to him to bother him. It didn’t mean he couldn’t feel the waves of energy from the restless spirits that populated the world. Or moreso, not being able to. It felt like the air went quiet, as he passed some kind of transitional barrier.
The hearse came to a stop in front of a large neon sign, blinking at him against the peeking sun rising in the distance. It read “Heartbreak Hotel”, in front of a heart with an arrow shot through it. The deadman stepped out of his vehicle slowly, feet stepping onto the cracked asphalt under him. Everything felt very off to him. There wasn’t the presence of a single soul, dead or alive. Not even that there was something far off in the distance but rather, nothing at all. Curious, The Undertaker stepped back into his hearse to follow down the road ahead of him. There was nothing for what felt like miles, as he drove. It seemed as if wherever this was, it couldn’t decide what it wanted to do with him. It could return him or it could lead him to the intended destination. Or, he mused, it might simply choose to trap him. He took the time to switch out CDs, decidedly putting in another 'Best of' album, this time opting for outlaw country. The road took him for another trip, the sky above him never changing. Finally, after what was about twenty minutes according to how many songs played, a building came into view. From it’s appearance, it seemed like your standard affair motel. Nothing particularly spectacular. In fact, it looked so much like any other motel it seemed to stand out even more because of it. He pulled into the empty parking lot, sitting and letting the engine idle for a moment before stepping out again. The building looked abandoned if not for the obvious upkeep on the exterior and surrounding area.
With heavy footsteps, he walked up the stairs to the wooden deck where the front office was. The door creaked ever so slightly as he pushed it open. He had almost expected the door to be locked. The inside again, felt like any other motel. Which meant it felt far too cramped for the almost seven foot deadman. There was a quiet groan of displeasure at the carpeted floors and wooden paneled walls. The seventies should’ve stayed in the seventies. He walked to the front desk, noting the small silver desk bell. There was a presence of something in the front office, but The Undertaker wasn’t sure what it was. It was a presence that felt halfway between dead and alive, but without actually being either. Despite the unknown nature of what he might face, The Undertaker didn’t feel a sense of danger. Although it took a lot for him to express anything he did feel most of the time. He gingerly pressed down on the button of the bell, a sharp ring filling the air, followed by the sound of shuffling somewhere in a back office. He waited as someone came around front. A handsome man, who looked a bit disgruntled by the disturbance for a moment before registering what was standing before him. A flash of shock before the blonde composed himself.
“Well hello there tall, dark, and handsome. Looking for a room?” The motel worker leaned forward on the wooden counter, sizing him up. From his name tag, it seemed that this was ‘Shawn.’
“I am not.” The Undertaker was unphased by the flirting. Instead he focused on trying to assess the man in front of him. If he could even consider him a man, or a spirit, or if he was an entity he had never met before entirely.
Shawn clearly didn’t expect that answer, frowning in response. “Oh.” There was a brief moment as the two looked at each other, before Shawn straightened up. “Well…is there anything I can help you with then?”
The feeling of displeasure was something far more than just what Shawn was feeling. It was akin to the feeling of air pressure dropping before a heavy rainfall. Now that made The Undertaker feel uneasy.
“…I can book a room to rest for a while.” This warranted some kind of investigation. The Undertaker removed his hat, holding it by his side. “How much would a room cost me.”
Shawn looked confused again, but somewhat more pleased now. “W-Well, that’s great! We only have the honeymoon suite available, but it’ll only be 50 bucks.”
“...I see. That room will do then.” He nodded, reaching for his wallet. “...Are there others who work here?”
“Huh?”
“You said ‘we.’ Do other people work here?”
Shawn shifted uncomfortably. “Uh. No. It’s just me.”
“I see.”
“...”
“...”
The two exchanged eye contact for quite the while, before The Undertaker resumed taking out the cash needed for the room. “I apologize if I have made you uncomfortable somehow. Your establishment is quite out of the way.”
“Uh. I guess it is.”
“I did not mean to drive here. It was not letting me leave, however.”
Shawn’s eyes widened. “What? Wait you…” His voice lowered into a whisper, as if the walls had ears, “...you could tell that it was trapping you?”
“Yes.”
"I don't get it! How?"
"..." The Undertaker was clearly thinking his answer over. "I am myself, undead. I feel the divides between the living and the dead, no soul can escape my perception. However…this place feels somewhere that is between both realms but at the same time… it feels as if it exists in its own reality.”
Shawn was listening intently. The Undertaker had kept a steady gaze on him, watching as his eyes filled up with tears. It seemed to take him a moment to realize he had been crying.
“Oh,” Shawn wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “God, I’m so sorry. I just…” He sniffled, looking down at the counter. “I’ve never had anyone really acknowledge how awful and weird this place is. It’s…a trap. Just for me but it’s a trap. I don’t even know why I’m here, you know? I can’t even remember anything before being here. If I had a family, a childhood, friends…I know what those things are but I just don’t think I have them. I don’t think I’m even a person.” His voice choked every few words, barely able to keep his composition. “Isn’t that kind of pathetic?”
The Undertaker let out a deep sigh, before reaching a hand over and placing it over one of Shawn’s. He slowly grasped Shawn’s, squeezing it. “It is not pathetic. You are in pain and suffering.” Shawn only nodded in response. “I do not know why you are trapped here. You do have a soul, Shawn. You are a person…I can tell you that much. I do not understand why you are here.”
Shawn could only hum in response, his voice not wanting to come out. He nodded again. Barely, he was able to whisper out a ‘thank you.’
“I will…rest for a night here. I would not wish to burden you with my presence.”
“...No one ever comes back here again after leaving.” Shawn’s voice was hollow. He still found himself unable to look at The Undertaker.
The Undertaker squeezes Shawn’s hand again. “I am certain I will find my way again. I would like for you to be free of his place as much as I would like to understand it. I take it upon myself to help those lost souls in situations where they are trapped… This is a situation I have not come across before, but I shall find a way to do what I must.”
“...Hope is the worst thing you can give a man, you know.” A weak smile came across Shawn’s face, and The Undertaker let out a huff of a laugh.
“It is. I am not asking you to hope, nor would I tell you to have any false hopes. I only ask that you trust me.”
“...” Shawn looked away for a moment, thinking. “Okay.” There was something new in his gaze as he looked into The Undertaker’s eyes. “I will trust you.”
“Thank you.”
“I never caught your name, you know.” Shawn pushed the guestbook towards The Undertaker before turning to grab the room key off the wall behind him.. “I won’t charge you for the room. I can’t really use the money anyway.”
“I do not have a name anymore.” The Undertaker took the pen on the counter, writing in the guestbook. “You may refer to me as The Undertaker.”
Shawn looked over his shoulder. “Do dead men not have names?”
The Undertaker smiled in response. “They do. I simply have abandoned the one that belonged to this body.”
“...Oh.” The blonde placed the key down in front of The Undertaker, before resting his face in his hands as he leaned forward on the counter again. “Huh.”
“Something you and I will always understand is there is more to the world than what most people will ever come to understand.” The Undertaker took the key, and took a step back before tilting his hat down at Shawn. “I shall take my rest. We will meet again, Shawn.”
“...I sure hope so.”
On the road again, The Undertaker’s suspicions were confirmed. It was as if time had not passed once he was able to leave the Heartbreak Hotel. Any indication that time had passed was gone. There was a quiet rage inside of him. As far as he was concerned, whatever Shawn may or may not have done to end up in his position was not for him to judge. There was a soul in distress, unable to rest. It was his job to ensure souls were to put to rest properly. He was going to do his research. He was going to find his way back to Shawn. No matter what, he would help Shawn find some peace.