An old brick hotel, half-hidden by trees, stands at the end of a drive. The awning over the entryway is old, but still stands; the door, however, is brand-new. The garage door serves as the sign, reading only "DBCHQ"; just as the flyer clutched in your hand says it would. It also speaks of rooms to rent, given upon interview; though a simple interview is a small price to pay for what is listed as essentially a free room. No rent, no utility fees, repairs handled by the landlord. Even after hearing conflicting gossip from the townsfolk, you've made up your mind. You are going to knock on that door. You are going through with this interview.

You've got a good feeling about it.