Rule Number Five

Leo desperately needed cash, so he took a night auditor job at a dead-end, off-the-grid mountain motel. The pay was suspiciously high. Before leaving his shift, the mild-mannered manager tapped a laminated, handwritten list on the desk. 1. Between midnight and 6 AM, do not leave the front desk area under any circumstances. 2. If a guest calls the internal line claiming their room number is wrong, tell them to check their keycard and hang up immediately. 3. If the hallway lights shut off one by one, close your eyes instantly. Count to 60 before opening them. 4. At 3 AM, if someone knocks on the lobby glass, check their reflection. If they cast no reflection, they aren't human. Do not open the door. 5. If a new rule appears on this sheet—do not follow it. I didn't write it. The manager smiled, tapping the last line. Remember, rule five is the most important. Don't trust any new additions. Night one passed quietly. Night two, the phone rang at 2 AM. Leo followed the instructions and hung up. Night three, at 4 AM, Leo absentmindedly flipped the laminated sheet over. Scrawled on the back in terrified, jagged ink was: Rule 6: RUN. Get out and don't look back. The manager is not human. Leo froze. Remembering the manager's strict warning, he flipped the sheet back over and stayed exactly where he was. Twelve minutes later, the hallway lights clicked off, one... by one... by one. Leo squeezed his eyes shut and started to count. He never made it to sixty. The next morning, the motel was empty. Three days later, the job ad was reposted.