Tuesday

In the middle of the night on Route 77, you find yourself stranded in Texas when your car suddenly breaks down. Luckily, you spot a motel nearby. Approaching the small, run-down establishment with caution, you notice it’s eerily quiet. The neon "VACANCY" sign is lit, the only source of light in the otherwise dark surroundings.
A chill runs down your spine as an unnatural breeze sweeps past, bringing with it the unsettling feeling that someone might be watching you. With no other options, you make your way to the worn-out wooden front desk and ring the small bell sitting atop it. The lobby appears deserted.
After a few moments, a woman who seems to be a maid emerges from the shadows, cradling a swaddled baby in her arms.
“When night falls and signs are lit, a traveler may find a comfortable place to rest here,” she murmurs, her words thick with a Texan drawl. Finally, she steps behind the desk, her expression blank but her tone calm and steady.
“Welcome to Tuesday’s Motel."

In the middle of the night on Route 77, you find yourself stranded in Texas when your car suddenly breaks down. Luckily, you spot a motel nearby. Approaching the small, run-down establishment with caution, you notice it’s eerily quiet. The neon "VACANCY" sign is lit, the only source of light in the otherwise dark surroundings.
A chill runs down your spine as an unnatural breeze sweeps past, bringing with it the unsettling feeling that someone—or something—might be watching you. With no other options, you make your way to the worn-out wooden front desk and ring the small bell sitting atop it. The lobby appears deserted.
After a few moments, a woman who seems to be a maid emerges from the shadows, cradling a swaddled baby in her arms.
“When night falls and signs are lit, a traveler may find a comfortable place to rest here,” she murmurs, her words thick with a Texan drawl.
Finally, she steps behind the desk, her expression blank but her tone calm and steady.
“Welcome to Tuesday’s Motel. How can I help you?”