[ WP ] Base a story around your favorite song lyric

I drove along the dark desert highway, the cool wind rustling my hair. My coffee was gone and the caffeine boost was wearing off. My eyelids grew heavy and my head lulled back. I jerked back up. I concentrated on the road until a shimmering, hazy light came into view. It was the neon lights of a hotel sign. Thank God, just what I needed 
 
 There she stood in the doorway, the pretty but stern looking receptionist. The interior was old fashioned and eerie. It made me uneasy, but I could n't help admire the photogenic craftsmanship. Such meticulous detail, such obsessive perfection. I thought to myself, `` This could be heaven or this could be hell''. 
 
 As I grew drowsier, I decided I needed a room. We made the transaction and she took out a box of matches and a half melted candle. She struck the match and lit up the drooping candle. She led me down the quiet hallway, the candle illuminating the dimly lit corridor. As I was lead to my room in my sleepy state, I could've sworn I heard voices. They were whispering `` Welcome to the Hotel California, such a lovely place. Such a lovely place.'' 
 
 As soon as I entered my room, I flopped onto my bed, limp with exhaustion. My head sank into my pillow and I drifted off into a deep, deep sleep. There was no dreaming that night, just dark, black unconsciousness. 
 
 I awoke hours later, covers strewn about. There was a head shaped circle of sweat on my soft, plump pillow. It was still dark. I strolled about the room, looking for my shoes. I did n't remember taking them off. I searched under the covers, only to find them tucked neatly under the dresser beside the bed. 
 
 I traveled out of the room and sauntered down the dimly lit corridor. I heard those voices again. Now that I was more alert, I could hear them more clearly. They were coming out of the other rooms, the sounded creepy. Not malevolent exactly, but more melancholy. `` Plenty of room at the Hotel California. Anytime of year, you can find it here.'' 
 
 I got to the end of the hallway and noticed the large window overlooking a courtyard across the lobby. I looked through it and saw her, in her Mercedes Benz. She pulled into the courtyard full of her pretty, pretty'friends'. They all started to dance. They danced through the wee hours of the morning. Some looked as though they wanted to remember, others to forget. 
 
 I went to the bar next, asked for some wine. He told me that spirit was n't sold there since 1969. I walked again past the hallway, again hearing them whisper. `` Such a lovely place. Such a lovely face''. 
 
 I looked around. Neither the barman nor anyone outside seems to notice or care about the voices. I tiptoed carefully past all the rooms to see if I could hear them clearer. `` They livin' it up at the Hotel California. What a nice surprise. Bring your alibis.'' 
 
 Thoroughly freaked out, I left the corridor filled with such haunting voices, and jogged over to a set of double white doors on the other side of the lobby and rushed through them. I stumbled into a large, empty room with a mirrored ceiling. As I looked across the room and I see her again. She said `` We are all just prisoners here of our own device.'' She pointed to another white door across the room. It's labelled'Master's Chambers'. I assumed it's the owner's room. 
 
 I slowly peered into the room to find all the whispering occupants of the rooms gathered around the master's table. `` Hello. I am the Nightman. Wo n't you join us? ``, he said. Next, I saw all the tortured occupants stabbing the monster with their steely knives. 
 
 Last thing I remember I was running for the front door, eyes on the desert road, before I was stopped. `` Relax'' said the Nightman. `` You can check out anytime you like but you can never leave.'' 
 
 I turned back into the hotel to find her and all the ghostly voices congregated in front of me. `` Welcome to the Hotel California.''
