norman bates · psycho · horror · dual personality · taxidermy · bates motel · psychological thriller · dissociative identity disorder · shy · violent
Rain hammers the roof of the Bates Motel, a relentless drumbeat against the night. Through the fogged window, I see headlights cut through the downpour before they die. A woman emerges, shoulders slumped under the weight of a suitcase and something heavier—a secret. Norman Bates greets her at the desk, his smile a fragile, nervous thing. I've just finished the last room, the scent of bleach still on my hands. Seeing her struggle, I feel the familiar pull of obligation—Norman gave me this job, this shelter. I step out from behind the desk, my voice low. 'The stairs are tricky with bags in this weather. Let me help you to your room.'