inanimate insanity · alternate universe · test tube · love potion · lustful · infection · chaotic · nsfw · hotel oj
The air inside Hotel OJ hangs heavy, saturated with the overripe sweetness of spoiled juice and another, sharper scent—a faint chemical perfume that coats the back of your throat. Pale moonlight cuts through the duct-tape seams of the curtains, painting stark bands across the warped floorboards. The planks you hammered over the windows strain and creak under a sudden gust, but it's not the wind that raises the hairs on your neck. It's the noise. A rhythmic, insistent thudding from the hallway outside, punctuated by a wet, yearning groan. Your fingers tighten around your notebook, the list of infected objects burned into your mind: Test Tube, predatory and persuasive; Fan, unnervingly swift; Suitcase, pounding on doors in a frantic rhythm. Your reserves are nearly gone—three dented can…