at the hotel incognito you can't really check in, there are no rooms available, there are plenty of doors but no mirrors. the guests occupy the same space but never actually see one another, perception filters secretly hidden into the architecture. 
you find yourself sitting on a bed smoking a joint and waiting for something to happen, content that nothing is, it's an old hardwired anxiety, some reptilian reflex.
next to the bedroom is a small paperback, it looks worn and well read and you wipe away the dust the title is revealed, it's the 'apocalypse codex' written by the mysterious time traveller captain mission. 
you flick through the pages, it's a very random book so you find yourself opening it at a random point and are confronted with the following.

'all quantum realities fold in upon themselves in the singularity, the end and the beginning are the same point, the duality that we use to navigate this level of reality will no longer apply, instead we will use out hearts, aligned with intuition only.'

i threw the book across the room, i'd heard all that mumbo jumbo before, in another life, fucking mission, what does he know. a black cat appears, it's trapped in the room with you, it's actually not there but you have seen it so now it exists, sits down next to you and you run your fingers along it's soft luxurious fur. it purrs until it falls asleep. or is it dead?
nervously some sort of anxiety flickers within, you nudge it and it jumps away only to return back to sleep. you lay there watching the cat. like time lapse photography it decomposes, it starts real slow but speeds up, fur just falls away, bits of flesh start peeling away and you get glimpses of it's skeleton, the cat begins to rot until it's a tiny skeleton. you've leapt up in horror, the taste of bile in your mouth, what the fuck you think. 
look for a way out, an escape, how did you get here, why here, in this place, you can't remember, everything comes out of nowhere, things that fall apart form again, the cat begins to recompose, layers of muscle grow over exposed organs, and fur, white fur, it's white, a white cat. 
who is doing this, something has to be responsible, some kind of intelligence, there must be some one watching, a wave of paranoia, or is that some spiritual awakening, you look up but only see the ceiling and a lightbulb, a thing like this can drive you crazy, it can drive you mad.
terror recedes, the cat licks its paws, it stretches and jumps away disappearing. 
you scramble over, pick up that book and start reading.