Down one of the many innocuous alleyways in Sacramento stood a crumbling stone building. It was, against all odds, still open despite its apparent dilapidated appearance. A sign hung above the door, its gold lettering proclaiming its name: The Courtyard Hotel.
The sign appeared to have been cleaned until sparkling, in defiance of the dirt across the windows and main door. From the door, which currently hung open, a rounded desk is visible. There isn't a clerk, but presumably the guy or girl is around there somewhere inside.
On the opposite side of the narrow alley is, of all things, a Costco. It's obviously much newer than the hotel and looked to have been built as an afterthought, with little thought to the hotel actually being there.
This evening its rather quiet outside; what activity there is came from latenight shoppers at the Costco. Some people walk past the alleyway with little thought to its existence, a couple more appear to pause before hurrying away again.
But if one listened close enough, they just might hear the echo of a scream.