Emily Hodson's Blog - Posts Tagged "dark"
DARK SHORT STORY FROM A CREATIVE WRITING CLASS I ATTENDED
NOTE: TRIED TO INDENT IT BUT IT WOULDN'T WORK. SORRY FOR THE HASSLE.
Untitled
Room 111
The floor seemed to show a sense of mockery to Harold. The blood red color practically came to life the more he stared at it. It was like looking into a whirlpool of gore, tightening around his ankles, ready to pull him into the underworld. The red carpet was no longer a red carpet in Harold's eyes. Harold saw blood and Harold liked that. It helped him feel more at ease in the bedroom; the bedroom that would soon become a crime scene. The bedding smelled of a flower aroma and the maid had fluffed up the pillows extra this morning. Harold wasn't planning on sleeping tonight though. There were different matters he had ideas for. The Holy Bible was slightly outside of its drawer, old and rusted. This book had everything Harold did not want to listen to right now. A small sliver of the sunlight from the drapes peeked down half his face. It was exceptionally heated today, making Harold slowly take his tie off.
The lamp was on but Harold no longer liked it shining beside him. He turned if off abruptly and paced around the room. The walkway towards the luxurious and chocolate mint-filled bathroom took near forever to walk into. Harold was hungry and dry in the throat so he decided to eat the complimentary candy. The aftertaste of the mint burned his mouth. Chocolate made him sick and he wasn’t supposed to eat it. The Diamond-shaped mirror did his face no justice either. It wouldn't matter the shape though. His bloodshot eyes were watery and rusted. The bathtub was about the size of a Jacuzzi. Harold could possibly get drunk tonight and have some girls over. He could even invite some coworkers for a few beers. The hotel had everything he could ever want. The couch was even comfy and turned into another bed.
Harold could have his co- workers crash with him here tonight for company and comfort. That's what should have happened, but it didn't. Harold had messed up and he had messed up big time. The sale he planned to close was non-existent now and there was nothing he could do about it. The only thing left to do was take care of the problem in a more…realistic sort of way. For ten years, he had been taking orders from the boss, along with hesitantly following scripted lines. For ten years, Harold had been depressed and mentally not there. No one knew of his feelings towards work and life…but they'd know tonight.
No more, he thought, staring into his reflection.
"NO MORE!" he punched his fist dab in the middle, shattering the mirror into tiny and painful pieces. The bones on his knuckles were covered in blood and glass. Harold did not know his own strength.
The shower curtains were covered with daisy printed designs on the edges. He tore the whole thing down instantly to wipe off his nonstop bloody hands. The maid would have to clean up the mess in the morning, as her job entitled her to. Harold headed back to the bedroom and looked inside the tiny closet. It held no more than a few of his business coats on the rack. His hands ran across it, making sure it was sturdy. It stood over a foot taller than his height and the metal was unbreakable. Harold liked that. He held his tie and measured it around his thick and veined-up neck. It was tight around him now and a perfect fit for his intentions.
No one would care if he disappeared from this world anyways. Why would it matter? His boss would be thrilled to hire a better replacement. His ex-girlfriend wouldn't have to deal with obsessive and stalking calls every night. And his parents? They wouldn't even notice. Since he left the house, all they knew was that he was being a successful and bright salesman. The joke would be on everybody else. Harold smirked to himself, staring at the cash he had stolen from his boss's safe. No one would ever know how Harold pulled it off the day he discovered the combination. That precious money would be gone. All $1,576,394 of it. Money was ugly to Harold, which was why he brought a match with him that night at the hotel. The peach-colored walls would soon melt around the room and the queen-sized bed would dissolve with its swan-made feathers scattering all over the place. Harold couldn't wait until tomorrow morning. He couldn't wait to die, knowing his boss would react horrifically, going from filthy rich, to dirt poor. He deserved it. It was the least Harold could do before he left this world.
He gulped as he tightened the tie more. The glazed wooden chair by the desk was holding him steadily but not safely in the closet. The fire was started, growing rapidly. All of the cash was dissolving and the people in this hotel would soon embrace the terrible burden Harold had brought with him. He smiled as he knotted the tie to the rack firmly. One more step and his plan would be complete. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, imagining what the afterlife would be like. No more money, no more horrible people, and no more evil. Harold was almost set free. He opened his eyes; ready to feel released and escaped. A sudden knock on the door startled him before the attempt. His eyes widened as the fire grew bigger. The fire detector hadn't sensed it yet but the knock grew louder.
"Harold?" The gruff voice demanded. "Please open up the door."
The knob started to get jiggled and tampered with.
There is no way he can get in, Harold thought.
A card slid in the door. A beep came after and the swipe was incorrect. "Glad the hotel gave me a second card. I told them I was your boss and needed to talk to you." The hoarse familiar chuckle gave Harold goosebumps instantly.
"That's...great," he piped out. His sweat dripped down his head. The fire was spreading a little past him inside the little closet. The boss swiped again, Harold standing still like a statue. As the door opened, he finally let himself off the chair.
"You'll never believe it, Harold," his boss said halfway through the door. "The Jamieson family changed their minds about the deal. You get a bonus! You did it!"
He sniffed the air and watched in horror as his cash dissolved in front of him. Not once did he notice Harold hanging inside the half-opened closet. It was obvious to see but he never really cared about Harold dying, he only cared about his money disappearing.
Room 112, around the same time
The bed was displayed in layers of love and comfort. Fluff and romance was all it wanted to provide; nothing more, nothing less. The couch was wool and brown, giving the nostalgia of a cabin in the woods feeling. It unfolded for extra bedding as well. The beautiful red carpet supported the couch and bed with nothing but a spot of lint at the corner of the room.
In the bathroom, a beautiful Jacuzzi was sparkling from top to bottom. Rose pedals were displayed on the top, along with Hershey chocolate kisses. Inside the small closet, placed ever so carefully inside a business suit, was a gift for the lady; a very special, life-changing gift. Nothing could go wrong tonight. Everything was in place and ready for her to see. The T.V. had a music channel on. Usher’s “Climax” song played on repeat lightly in the background. On the end table was champagne and some rum. The sunlight gave a perfect hint of light on the bed. The sun was doing its job right and knew to behave this evening. A candle was placed on the desk with a scrap book alongside. All their memories were in it and all their precious times were documented. This was going to be the night of their lives. Jase and Annabelle.
They were out to dinner at the moment and Jase had hired the maids to set up everything. It was going to be the surprise and night of a lifetime for his special girl. Everything was going to be perfect and nothing wrong was going to happen. Annabelle would say yes to the proposal and make mad love to him that night. Jacuzzi, massages, dancing, movies, and swimming in the pool downstairs would take place. It was only eight o’clock the night they were out. The wonderful night they were out. Two amazing years together, Jase looked forward to the hotel night and Annabelle didn’t have a clue what was going to happen. She didn’t even know about the hotel plan.
As the two maids finished up the decorating, one whispered to the other, snickering. She stole a kiss from the Jacuzzi, hearing the chocolate juice splash inside her mouth. The other maid raided the business coat for some type of money. Minimum wage was starving her kids to the bone. A sharp diamond- studded ring appeared in front of her hungry eyes. She tucked it into her pocket and told her coworker she had to leave. There would be riches and food on the table tonight and the lady would finally be able to get on her feet. Her life was about to finally start. As the thief maid opened the door, the fire made its way to the room within seconds, trapping them both inside. There was no way to escape, except jumping off the five-story balcony.
Room 116, around the same time
Little Timmy played on the red carpet with his dinosaurs. The floor was his land for them and that was how he wanted to imagine it as. It was the only way to drown out his parents’ constant yelling. Little Timmy enjoyed the scenery though. The night had a full moon and he wished he could touch it. Flying to it would be fun at a time like this.
“Stan, don’t talk about this right now. Timmy is here!” Mother pleaded with her strong and powerful husband. He could have her dead within seconds if he really wanted to make it happen. She was just so tiny and easy to break.
“Hil, I told you those bills were supposed to be paid last week, you careless bitch. Now we’re on a trip and fucked in debt!” He threw her onto the cushioned bed and smacked her across the face.
Little Timmy continued to ignore it. He took his Dinosaurs into the bathtub, drowning out his mother’s screams. Father told him that he and mother liked to rough house and play around a lot. Little Timmy understood and knew when the cue to leave was. Mother never had the guts to tell him the truth and she never would. The bruises on her face were just “dirt” to her. Dirt didn’t hurt and Timmy knew that too.
“Please, can we do this somewhere else? Timmy needs to get fed!” she wailed as she got pinned down. He cupped her mouth as she mumbled through it. Timmy’s eyes began to watch through the crack, like he always did. There was no way to ignore it forever. Keeping distance was his safest bet though. He wasn’t in a particular mood to get another beating from father.
“Oh but honey, you and I both know you deserve to get punished.” Stan loosened his belt and flipped her over. The sound of the belt bruising her was just the sound of cowboys hustling bulls to little Timmy. Father said that many women liked getting spankings. Timmy closed the bathroom door after he peered through the crack to watch.
As his mother wailed, little Timmy looked into the mirror to blink a few times. The mirror was diamond-shaped and bold, showing his innocent face. The face had lies filled from one ear to the other. Timmy knew already, he just decided to play along with his messed up parents. If his mother’s bruises were just “dirt,” then they were just dirt. If women liked to be spanked, then that was fine with Timmy. If rough play meant beating the shit out of someone, so be it. Little Timmy was only five and he knew how grown-ups worked.
A large spider crawled by the shiny sink. It looked like Arachnid, it was so big.
“Hello there.” Little Timmy gently picked it up. “Would you like to escape from here?”
The spider gazed at him with those red and unintentional frightening eyes. It crawled out of his hand and into the small window above the mirror. Little Timmy followed into the cold brutal night. The wind smashed his face with dust and debris. A few steps after, a gun shot came from little Timmy’s hotel room. He kept walking. It was time to run away, especially when he saw his father try to crawl out of the window with a gun. He was too big though. Timmy turned around and saw the fire smother his stuck father. He watched briefly as his father wailed in pain. There was no way he could escape from the window. Timmy saw other rooms of the hotel begin to set fire. He continued to run with the spider on his shoulder. He was hungry and there was a convenient store just minutes away he could rob.
Untitled
Room 111
The floor seemed to show a sense of mockery to Harold. The blood red color practically came to life the more he stared at it. It was like looking into a whirlpool of gore, tightening around his ankles, ready to pull him into the underworld. The red carpet was no longer a red carpet in Harold's eyes. Harold saw blood and Harold liked that. It helped him feel more at ease in the bedroom; the bedroom that would soon become a crime scene. The bedding smelled of a flower aroma and the maid had fluffed up the pillows extra this morning. Harold wasn't planning on sleeping tonight though. There were different matters he had ideas for. The Holy Bible was slightly outside of its drawer, old and rusted. This book had everything Harold did not want to listen to right now. A small sliver of the sunlight from the drapes peeked down half his face. It was exceptionally heated today, making Harold slowly take his tie off.
The lamp was on but Harold no longer liked it shining beside him. He turned if off abruptly and paced around the room. The walkway towards the luxurious and chocolate mint-filled bathroom took near forever to walk into. Harold was hungry and dry in the throat so he decided to eat the complimentary candy. The aftertaste of the mint burned his mouth. Chocolate made him sick and he wasn’t supposed to eat it. The Diamond-shaped mirror did his face no justice either. It wouldn't matter the shape though. His bloodshot eyes were watery and rusted. The bathtub was about the size of a Jacuzzi. Harold could possibly get drunk tonight and have some girls over. He could even invite some coworkers for a few beers. The hotel had everything he could ever want. The couch was even comfy and turned into another bed.
Harold could have his co- workers crash with him here tonight for company and comfort. That's what should have happened, but it didn't. Harold had messed up and he had messed up big time. The sale he planned to close was non-existent now and there was nothing he could do about it. The only thing left to do was take care of the problem in a more…realistic sort of way. For ten years, he had been taking orders from the boss, along with hesitantly following scripted lines. For ten years, Harold had been depressed and mentally not there. No one knew of his feelings towards work and life…but they'd know tonight.
No more, he thought, staring into his reflection.
"NO MORE!" he punched his fist dab in the middle, shattering the mirror into tiny and painful pieces. The bones on his knuckles were covered in blood and glass. Harold did not know his own strength.
The shower curtains were covered with daisy printed designs on the edges. He tore the whole thing down instantly to wipe off his nonstop bloody hands. The maid would have to clean up the mess in the morning, as her job entitled her to. Harold headed back to the bedroom and looked inside the tiny closet. It held no more than a few of his business coats on the rack. His hands ran across it, making sure it was sturdy. It stood over a foot taller than his height and the metal was unbreakable. Harold liked that. He held his tie and measured it around his thick and veined-up neck. It was tight around him now and a perfect fit for his intentions.
No one would care if he disappeared from this world anyways. Why would it matter? His boss would be thrilled to hire a better replacement. His ex-girlfriend wouldn't have to deal with obsessive and stalking calls every night. And his parents? They wouldn't even notice. Since he left the house, all they knew was that he was being a successful and bright salesman. The joke would be on everybody else. Harold smirked to himself, staring at the cash he had stolen from his boss's safe. No one would ever know how Harold pulled it off the day he discovered the combination. That precious money would be gone. All $1,576,394 of it. Money was ugly to Harold, which was why he brought a match with him that night at the hotel. The peach-colored walls would soon melt around the room and the queen-sized bed would dissolve with its swan-made feathers scattering all over the place. Harold couldn't wait until tomorrow morning. He couldn't wait to die, knowing his boss would react horrifically, going from filthy rich, to dirt poor. He deserved it. It was the least Harold could do before he left this world.
He gulped as he tightened the tie more. The glazed wooden chair by the desk was holding him steadily but not safely in the closet. The fire was started, growing rapidly. All of the cash was dissolving and the people in this hotel would soon embrace the terrible burden Harold had brought with him. He smiled as he knotted the tie to the rack firmly. One more step and his plan would be complete. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, imagining what the afterlife would be like. No more money, no more horrible people, and no more evil. Harold was almost set free. He opened his eyes; ready to feel released and escaped. A sudden knock on the door startled him before the attempt. His eyes widened as the fire grew bigger. The fire detector hadn't sensed it yet but the knock grew louder.
"Harold?" The gruff voice demanded. "Please open up the door."
The knob started to get jiggled and tampered with.
There is no way he can get in, Harold thought.
A card slid in the door. A beep came after and the swipe was incorrect. "Glad the hotel gave me a second card. I told them I was your boss and needed to talk to you." The hoarse familiar chuckle gave Harold goosebumps instantly.
"That's...great," he piped out. His sweat dripped down his head. The fire was spreading a little past him inside the little closet. The boss swiped again, Harold standing still like a statue. As the door opened, he finally let himself off the chair.
"You'll never believe it, Harold," his boss said halfway through the door. "The Jamieson family changed their minds about the deal. You get a bonus! You did it!"
He sniffed the air and watched in horror as his cash dissolved in front of him. Not once did he notice Harold hanging inside the half-opened closet. It was obvious to see but he never really cared about Harold dying, he only cared about his money disappearing.
Room 112, around the same time
The bed was displayed in layers of love and comfort. Fluff and romance was all it wanted to provide; nothing more, nothing less. The couch was wool and brown, giving the nostalgia of a cabin in the woods feeling. It unfolded for extra bedding as well. The beautiful red carpet supported the couch and bed with nothing but a spot of lint at the corner of the room.
In the bathroom, a beautiful Jacuzzi was sparkling from top to bottom. Rose pedals were displayed on the top, along with Hershey chocolate kisses. Inside the small closet, placed ever so carefully inside a business suit, was a gift for the lady; a very special, life-changing gift. Nothing could go wrong tonight. Everything was in place and ready for her to see. The T.V. had a music channel on. Usher’s “Climax” song played on repeat lightly in the background. On the end table was champagne and some rum. The sunlight gave a perfect hint of light on the bed. The sun was doing its job right and knew to behave this evening. A candle was placed on the desk with a scrap book alongside. All their memories were in it and all their precious times were documented. This was going to be the night of their lives. Jase and Annabelle.
They were out to dinner at the moment and Jase had hired the maids to set up everything. It was going to be the surprise and night of a lifetime for his special girl. Everything was going to be perfect and nothing wrong was going to happen. Annabelle would say yes to the proposal and make mad love to him that night. Jacuzzi, massages, dancing, movies, and swimming in the pool downstairs would take place. It was only eight o’clock the night they were out. The wonderful night they were out. Two amazing years together, Jase looked forward to the hotel night and Annabelle didn’t have a clue what was going to happen. She didn’t even know about the hotel plan.
As the two maids finished up the decorating, one whispered to the other, snickering. She stole a kiss from the Jacuzzi, hearing the chocolate juice splash inside her mouth. The other maid raided the business coat for some type of money. Minimum wage was starving her kids to the bone. A sharp diamond- studded ring appeared in front of her hungry eyes. She tucked it into her pocket and told her coworker she had to leave. There would be riches and food on the table tonight and the lady would finally be able to get on her feet. Her life was about to finally start. As the thief maid opened the door, the fire made its way to the room within seconds, trapping them both inside. There was no way to escape, except jumping off the five-story balcony.
Room 116, around the same time
Little Timmy played on the red carpet with his dinosaurs. The floor was his land for them and that was how he wanted to imagine it as. It was the only way to drown out his parents’ constant yelling. Little Timmy enjoyed the scenery though. The night had a full moon and he wished he could touch it. Flying to it would be fun at a time like this.
“Stan, don’t talk about this right now. Timmy is here!” Mother pleaded with her strong and powerful husband. He could have her dead within seconds if he really wanted to make it happen. She was just so tiny and easy to break.
“Hil, I told you those bills were supposed to be paid last week, you careless bitch. Now we’re on a trip and fucked in debt!” He threw her onto the cushioned bed and smacked her across the face.
Little Timmy continued to ignore it. He took his Dinosaurs into the bathtub, drowning out his mother’s screams. Father told him that he and mother liked to rough house and play around a lot. Little Timmy understood and knew when the cue to leave was. Mother never had the guts to tell him the truth and she never would. The bruises on her face were just “dirt” to her. Dirt didn’t hurt and Timmy knew that too.
“Please, can we do this somewhere else? Timmy needs to get fed!” she wailed as she got pinned down. He cupped her mouth as she mumbled through it. Timmy’s eyes began to watch through the crack, like he always did. There was no way to ignore it forever. Keeping distance was his safest bet though. He wasn’t in a particular mood to get another beating from father.
“Oh but honey, you and I both know you deserve to get punished.” Stan loosened his belt and flipped her over. The sound of the belt bruising her was just the sound of cowboys hustling bulls to little Timmy. Father said that many women liked getting spankings. Timmy closed the bathroom door after he peered through the crack to watch.
As his mother wailed, little Timmy looked into the mirror to blink a few times. The mirror was diamond-shaped and bold, showing his innocent face. The face had lies filled from one ear to the other. Timmy knew already, he just decided to play along with his messed up parents. If his mother’s bruises were just “dirt,” then they were just dirt. If women liked to be spanked, then that was fine with Timmy. If rough play meant beating the shit out of someone, so be it. Little Timmy was only five and he knew how grown-ups worked.
A large spider crawled by the shiny sink. It looked like Arachnid, it was so big.
“Hello there.” Little Timmy gently picked it up. “Would you like to escape from here?”
The spider gazed at him with those red and unintentional frightening eyes. It crawled out of his hand and into the small window above the mirror. Little Timmy followed into the cold brutal night. The wind smashed his face with dust and debris. A few steps after, a gun shot came from little Timmy’s hotel room. He kept walking. It was time to run away, especially when he saw his father try to crawl out of the window with a gun. He was too big though. Timmy turned around and saw the fire smother his stuck father. He watched briefly as his father wailed in pain. There was no way he could escape from the window. Timmy saw other rooms of the hotel begin to set fire. He continued to run with the spider on his shoulder. He was hungry and there was a convenient store just minutes away he could rob.
