Harlequin

**NEW AND REVISED AUTHOR'S NOTE**
You'll notice that the disclaimer has changed. The story still might not get finished.

Meagan sat on the edge of the cheap hotel bed upon which her newest client had insisted. He was supposed to have given her a ride back home, but he had instead peeled out of the parking lot like his ass was on fire and left her half-dressed in a Holiday Inn that had seen better days. She pulled on her sweatshirt and zipped her worn jeans back on. Straightening the white sweater so that it covered the waistband, she picked up her Coach knockoff purse and went into the bathroom.

The mirror was dirty, as if the maids were never in, but she knew they had just cleaned the room, since she and her client had seen the maid walk out just as they walked into the room and flipped the sign to DO NOT DISTURB.

She picked up one of the wax-paper-thin towels and scrubbed at the mirror. The stains didn’t come off, and she assumed that there must simply have been something that not even an armada of barely-employed maids could erase from the glass. She tore a brush through her tangled blonde hair and slicked on a fresh layer of lip gloss. Her client had agreed to pay for the hotel room in exchange for her services, so Meagan decided to keep the room for the rest of the night and order room service, all on his tab. She picked up the bedside menu and called room service for a bit of dinner; she had missed it on account of her skinflint client, who had refused to even pay her.

She nibbled on the chicken dish she’d ordered, thinking about how she was going to save up any money to get the nice supper she had been planning on without the extra money from this man. It would just take that much longer. She sighed and rolled over on the bed.

Something creaked in the room. It could be the bed, or even the roiling wind outside. She clicked on the clock radio in the room and covered her head with the pillow. Meagan did not want to hear any creaking or noises or even to feel the weight that suddenly pinned her down on the bed, cuffed her hands behind her back, and smashed her on the back of the head, knocking her unconscious.

Meagan woke up on top of a table, transferred to a different surface but in the same position. She sat up and rubbed the back of her head. A rusting cafeteria surrounded her; she sat atop a stained table covered with spots that looked like spilled blood. The lights hummed on-again, off-again, like eyes blinking for a double-take. She stood up to walk across the room. Her feet made hollow noises like heels on tile, duplicated even by sneakers in a room as hollow as this, emptier than a plastic soda bottle sucked dry. She shivered and looked back at the table. Missing tiles dotted the ceiling, letting in chilly drafts that crawled down her spine.

She turned around to find a sort-of clean place to seat herself and found a note waiting on the table for her. Meagan crumpled it angrily in one hand, then unfolded it with the other and read it.

**author's note: the next two or three chapters are written. I just feel like breaking it up. plus it's 4a and I'm tired. rate/review please!**