It’s lightning like a mother on the way up the mountain and deer and wolves and bears and centaurs and manticores are just running back and forth across the street to mess with Spencer. She’s swerving and slamming on the breaks and barking, “Did you see that? It had the body of a walrus and the head of a meerkat!” The Lost Woods Resort is everything you could hope for: secluded, decrepit, owned by Norman Bates. He’s been running alongside the car for who knows how long and when Spencer finally stops to assess their chance of death (3:1), he bangs on the window and asks if they’d like a room with a view of hell.
Of course they would.
Spencer requests Room #1 at check-in and Bates goes, “In terms of getting bludgeoned to death, that really is your best bet!” Sensing an in, Spencer is all, “Yes, that’s how we found out about this place, actually. Our friend Vivian Darkbloom was assassinated in that very room. Maybe you remember her.” He does not. Usually he’s too busy kissing his mother on the mouth to notice what his guests get up to. Spencer rolls her eyes because she really is an incest magnet, and then leads the troops to their room. Hanna takes a tumble on the way, but the Liars pull her to her feet and keep on running toward doom, like they do.
Last time Spencer was forced to sign a guest log, she discovered that Garrett checked Jenna out of blind camp the day Ali was murdered, so she really wants to get her hands on the Lost Woods log book. She waves some Scooby Snacks in front of Aria’s nose, and Aria yip-yips out the door behind her for some investigating. They crawl through the window of the lobby and land in an Edgar Allan Poe poem. There’s a raven on the mantle, a heart beating under the floorboards, a cyclops cat weaving in and out of their legs, some dwarf armor, a literal oval portrait. The whole place smells like rabies, frankly. Amidst the gothic trinkets and tuberculosis, they find the guest log. Vivian Darkbloom checked in the day before Ali died. How she made it from Hilton Head to Lost Woods to Hilton Head to Rosewood to Philadelphia to Rosewood in the span of 24 hours is just … so Ali.
Hanna decides the best course of action to take in the middle of a tornado in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night in the middle of the hotel where her best friend was chopped up into tiny pieces — just the very safest thing she can do at this moment in time — is to go ahead and have a shower. Emily, who should be familiar with frikkin’ Hitchcock by now, is supposed to be guarding the door, I guess, but her phone rings and Emily rushes out into the night looking for a phone signal. She thinks it’s Maya, but it’s not Maya. It’s “A.”
And if you didn’t know who “A” was at this point, well, I don’t know what to tell you because obviously you have not been paying attention. Of all the people in all the world, which one has been trying with all her might to get naked with Hanna Marin for forever? Come on! Use your noggin! Hanna’s wearing the same color nail polish on her toes that Ali’s corpse is wearing in the opening credits and she’s taking the longest godd–n shower of her life. Just exfoliating and luffa-ing and trimming her cuticles. I mean, fill up the tub with bubbles and have a couple of boxes of wine, Hanna. Who are you, right now? Your mother? “A” creeps on in there and starts stripping down out of her hoodie, thanking the sweet Lord above that she’s finally going to get skin-to-skin with Hanna Marin, when the water goes off and she has to bolt.
Spencer stays up all night studying the guest log and the only information she gleans from it is that Vivian Darkbloom checked into Lost Woods the day before she was murdered and the day she was supposed to meet “A” in Brookhaven. She needs to break back into the office to return the book, so she invokes the name “Team Sparia” to make Aria grin like a nut and keep watch for her.
Having almost been murdered last night and with the threat of being murdered again tonight looming over her head, Hanna’s got one thing on her mind: Her masquerade ball costume. She pouts because Caleb can’t take her and she needs a Romeo, and Emily says, “Duh, I’ll be your Romeo.” Oh, they giggle. And finally it all makes sense: They think it’s romantic to die. No wonder they act like they do.