Hotel California I

On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night
There she stood in the doorway

I was humming the son and had taken the trail with the guardians before I was left at the gate with the huge tall frame before me. The frame was adorned with the motifs of Demons and Angels. I peeked beyond the gate and it displayed me the long winding stone laid track with the green grasses on the side. It forked at the end on the hilltop. I guess that’s where I have to decide when I reached it.

“Hi John. You are here too?”

I turned to look at the direction of the familiar voice. It was the old gang lined up there. There was Rupert the Machine Gun killer. He had that M10 tucked inside his overcoat and the AK47 was in the boot. If more firepower needed, he has that M240 concealed in the false bottom of the boot. I remembered he has Machine Gun Kelly’s photo in his wallet. I had to correct him that was Bronson in the lead role and not the real Kelly. He frowned at me with his imitation of Bronson, all the lines on his face drawn over it.

“He is the gang.” That was Matthew or Mad Matthew as he was known to the others, dead or alive. He was the one you rely on taking front in any battle, and he has done it all the time. He will charge in with his hands holding a gun each. He does not care what he has; the Glocks or the Brownings, or the S&W, he will shoot them empty within seconds. He won’t be screaming for bullets for he has two others concealed guns on his waist. Once in a shootout, he ran out of bullets and guns, he threw his hat and shoes at the others. He was mad.

“Yup, you can’t do without John.” Another one to the gang. Appleby or he prefers we can call him Apple-Buy. He said his dad named him that after his birth, his mum asked his dad to buy apples. That stuck as his name but he was the demolition man. The first gig he did was the apple tree in the backyard of his neighbour. He joined the Army later to become one of the best in that trade but he left after one tourof duty. He was not making enough money and he needed money. The world then inherited a bomber in the city. He blew everything; banks, security vans, the neighbourhood shop and even the cars. Or the apple cart.

“Hey, John. How did you get it?” The last of the gang of five killers; The Italian or Bruno Corleone. His dad was Sicilian and his mother Scandinavian. She held the baby’s balls when the father named the child. It was either that or Bernice. Bruno grew up tough and soon inherited his father’s skill as the stealth killer with the stiletto dagger or the piano wire for the garotte.

“I just arrived,” I replied. “When did you get the hit? And how?”

“Me?” The Italian went first. “I went up with a big bang. The car was rigged and I went away walking the neighbours. So much for the quiet approach of mine.”

“I was taken in the back. Never saw the bastard.” Mad raised his head to show the strangled marks. “I struggled hard but whoever killed you when you banging your missus? I think it was her. She disliked the morning bangs. She said she will be late. She was always late when we fucked. I had to be reminded of it after every fuck.”

“Me? I was shot like a tied-up rabbit. They dumped me in the boot after the spiked drink. They took potshots at me tied to the tree. I pissed in my pants. It was my morning peed.”

“Mine was worse. They shot me in the Orange Orchard out of town. I hate oranges. I am an apple boy.” Appleby voiced out. Then he looked at me.

“How did you end up here? And all of us at the same day?”

“Me, I got my brains blown off. The gun was in the mouth.” I told them. I turned my back to show them the huge hole in the back of my head. A .44 calibre does not lie.

Then the call came from the gates. The names were called and I was last. I saw all of them took the left direction at the fork. I approached the gate.  

“Jonathan Benjamin Rivers. Let me read your journey stops.” I eyed the person addressing me then. I was an avid follower, and my expected impression was the elderly geezer with the Father Time image but I got was a blonde lady behind the speech-making stand with the huge leaflet book that covered her boobs to her waist. God, she was naked. So was I.

“Don’t stare. We are all back in our natural self here. Clothing is not allowed. We can’t allow fascination in the clothes. Its distracting.” I heard her. I looked back to Appleby. He won’t have to feel look at. We all looked the same but with various builds. Mad might be for he can’t see below his waistline.

“Okay, you take the right fork.”

“Can I ask why? Does it lead to …”

“I can’t say. And I won’t say. I have questions. You did a wonderful task before you died. Why did blew your brains off.” I heard the lady.

“Well, did I? I thought removing those scums will made the world a better place? They were killers.”

“You were one too until you decided to blow your brains.”

“I could not take it anymore. The calling to take another life. We will all sit down to discuss the method. I will then decide. I was the brains there. I will then plan the location and time. Soon after, we will have a drink and celebrate. I decided to give up when I found out you have given me a timetable. You had to place a tumour in my head with a timer. Well, I do something good. I used my brains. I used something the others will never know. I hired the killers to do the task. I paid them with bitcoins. It was untraceable. I had them traced by the phone locations. I made the call that morning before dawn. They went down and I then blew my brains. I left no trace for the them to check.” I showed her the hole in my head.

“Do you think I can think anymore?”

“Never concern yourselves on that. Here in the hotel, we do everything for you. We will feed you, bathe you and even cleaned your bowels. Welcome to Hotel Cali for you.”

I laughed. The daydreams were mind. I have them for years. It was my penance for doing all those killings. I was the gang and depends on who I kill, I will either of them. Mad, Apple, Italian, Or Kelly. Or myself. I was just John. So much for my brain, I was discovered by them. They made me sweat in my sleep and pained me in my waking hours. I could not take it anymore. I took to shoot myself. I had the gun in my mouth but the bullet was defective. It misfired and I ended up immobile in bed cared for by the nurses. I was admitted to the centre which we named it Hotel Cali. It was in Montana and hidden by the trees. You could not see the place as it was over the hill. I was different. I have a pot of a special flower with me. It was colitas for California. The nurse who gave me that told me it may ease my mind and feel alive again.

“John, I am impressed by your attraction towards me. I will take care of it. It will make you feel alive.” I wanted to cry. I wanted to die and not be released into a gloved grip. Then I heard the hymn in my mind. I was in that chamber. I was not leaving anytime.  

And she said "We are all just prisoners here, of our own device"
And in the master's chambers

Lyrics from Hotel California