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Running foot claps echoed off the frost covered asphalt; she was rapidly panting for breath--covered in blood spatter. Her thin arms rested on her upper thighs, preparing to regurgitate from the absolute horror she witnessed. Suddenly; he stepped out of the viscous ink like shadows, revealing an outrageous spectacle of cannibalistic grotesqueness. He quietly stalked her while she was occupied (hunched over--throwing up.) A hulking paw grabbed the back of her head; whipping her neck into an appalling contorted shape; the petrified glow in her big grey eyes, gave away to the dark of night.

A sliver of ochre light flared across the dark snowcapped mountains; leaving a magnanimous thick fog behind. The neon vacancy sign radiated out into the narrow country road; casting a greasy yellow sheen on the cold tarmac. An ancient old woman sat behind the clerks desk, as Tiffany and Andy entered the lobby. Her neck was leathery fold of skin; her blind eye was white and calloused over, and her face looked like a thick truckers atlas of wrinkles. “Yeah forty-five per night.” she said with a mucus polluted voice--her chin almost touched her nose when she  began chewing the tobacco again-- spitting what looked like molasses in a tin coffee can. Tiffany looked at Andy with an expression of disapproval on her face; Andy took note of it, but pushed the thought out of his mind. They’ve been traveling for fifteen hours straight, and really need a fresh start in the morning.

The small motel room was very rustic looking: horseshoes on the wood paneled walls, elk antlers above the door frame, and solid redwood floors. To Tiffany’s surprise it was very nice inside. Andy rolled over on one side facing Tiffany on the bed; his eyes shimmered in the light; as he whispered a sequence of sexy vulgarities, in her soft ear. Some time had passed; she stayed awake in nostalgia over the first time she and Andy had met.

The little old woman turned off her television; then sloppily crammed the receipt book under the overcrowded desk. Arthritically walking down the creaky, rough cut wooden staircase to the motel basement. The smell of dust; decay, mold, and death reeked a nauseating odor. A macabre scene of human processing for human consumption! A tanned flesh curtain draped over the doorway, as she walked through it with a crooked smile. A hulking blood covered disfigured man; was tossing fresh body parts up on the cooler shelves. “Come on now boy!” the old woman shouted in a stern voice. “Here’s the keys to the front exit door; lock it before you get started boy. We don’t need another crazy running across the Goddamn parking lot again--all right boy! And send them down the chute this time; last time I like to never got that fucking mess cleaned up off the floors!” She looked up at him, and gave a pat on his melancholic face. “Go on now!” She sat down to a hot bowl of human gumbo, and changed the channel that was keeping the morbid freak company--a children’s alphabet channel. The old woman turned her weathered head to the chute; as a gore covered corps slid out, and across the large prep table.

Andy woke up to a resounding thud near their room. With curiosity, he opened the door and looked down the dim lit hallway of doors; he saw a huge man casually walking into a room four doors down. A second thump--no a third thump--and it was getting louder. Annoyed, he got up from underneath the warm blankets; looked down the hall once more, and saw nothing; not even the huge man again. Tiffany was in a sound slumber, so decided to investigate the strange thumping sound that was keeping him up. The narrow hallway floor was cold on his bare feet, and a strange knocking sound grew louder the further he went on. Stepping lightly; he approached the ajar door. He noticed something warm and slick on his feet; discovering the horror of standing in a pool of blood that ran from under the door. He stood bewilderment looking down at his feet. Suddenly the door flung open! The murderer was dragging a naked convulsing lady by the hair; her heels rapidly knocking on the wooden floor. Terror shocked--Andy was frozen in stationary--and everything quickly turned black. He was kicked down the chute first, then the convulsing lady behind him.

Tiffany was startled awake in the empty bed. Assuming Andy was in the bathroom, or at the soda machine in the hall. She waited up for what seemed like forever; the bathroom and hallway both was unoccupied; she began boiling over with anxiety, and searched the down the long cold floor. Stopping and leaning into the dark shadow adjacent to the soda machine. She could hear someone step out one of the rooms (heavy footsteps walking along the floor boards.) The slow moving monster was carrying a flaccid body--covered in blood--across his shoulder, and kicked the crumbled body down the chute. She covered her mouth with nervous hands--trying to hold her breath-- as the killer walked by the black shadow that concealed her presence. He shuffled through a ring of keys, as she stood squirming edgily on the brink of revealing herself. The murderer entered the room cautiously, and quietly with a heavy mallet in his leathery hand. The oak door slowly closed with no sound; she could hear the brass locks on the door when the killer locked himself in. Surging with adrenaline Tiffany jolted back to their room. 

The convulsing lady began shaking Andy back to consciousness. The near mummified woman dropped her spoon in the repugnant gumbo. She walked over to where they were, and plucked a butchers knife off the magnetic bar. “We got us a wiggler.” the old woman said in a merciless voice. Andy was fading in and out; catching a glimpse of the old woman holding the knife. Warm blood leached behind Andy’s back; as her convulsions slowly declined.

Tiffany locked the door behind her; trying to give herself more time to make a successful escape. She could hear the brutality in the next room through the walls. Thoughts of Andy, and the probability of what happened to him; made her uncontrolled emotions escalate to a full panic. 

He was struggling to stay awake; Tiffany’s face flash once in his mind. He frightfully began pushing the bodies away from him--some flopping off the stainless steel table. Andy faded out again, but caught a glimpse of the old woman standing above him. He struggled to keep the knife from his throat in a weakened state; he grasps her hands, and twists the blade to her stomach. A sharp thrust painfully sends her to the concrete--to bleed to death in punishment that fit her crime. He checked the upstairs door; only to find it locked from the outside, and he couldn’t muster up the strength to break it down.

Tiffany quickly made a beeline for the main exit door. Expecting to burst through to the cold night; she abruptly came to a halt; slamming her thin body on the unforgiving steel. The blood spattered killer turned sharply from his dead victim; when he heard the ruckus echo throughout the hall. Two more bodies slid down the death slide; ejecting Andy back out the gore lubed mouth again.

She broke the mirror that was hanging around the shower head. Pulling the curtain closed, and holding the long reflective shard with both hands, so tight it cut deep into the palms of her hands. Pecking of keys on the hardwood door made her adrenaline detonate with voltage like force. The killer completely demolished the room looking for her. The bathroom light unexpectedly turned on; as he stood there in silence for a moment--and then left. An extreme amount of tension left her body; her mind began to relax from the jittery possibilities of what was to come. Sliding her back down the wall to a resting seat in the bathtub. Deafened by the silence. Shockingly the curtain was ripped off the metal rail; exposing her by complete surprise. In the blind darkness she stabbed him in the groan with the shard, and tried to make a run for it, but he caught her leg. Dragging her to him; Tiffany kicked at his disfigured eyes (hoping to blind him.) Moaning on the floor like an animal; as he slowly pulled the reflective glass out of his wound. Rage was plastered over his mangled face. He slung his arms violently against the walls; as he got up in a slow agonizing pain. The search for her just became personal.

Andy slung the chute door open, and lobbed a flat bar out onto the floor. He could hear the stomping of light feet quickly coming his way. Glancing with a half shadowed face around the corner; only to see a running woman in the dim light. He snatched her up, and spun her around the dark corner. Tiffany’s body began to go into violent fits; as she began fighting Andy for her life. He was pushed her against the wall--looking closely at her face. “Andy!” Tiffany spoke in a sigh of relief, as she rested her tired face on his shoulder. He curled his arm around her sweaty head to comfort her. “We don’t have much time.” Tiffany spoke--still holding on. A crashing blow knocked the door off its hinges! The infuriated killer looked one way down the hall, and then to the other. His breath was pulsating in hostility. Checking the rooms again; thrashing the contents around in a malicious manor. 

She lies on the hall floor pretending to be in distress. The murderer spots her right off, and slowly begins to lurk after her as she crawls away. (Keeping enough distance to lure him in.) Andy steps out of the shadows, and blind sides the hulking man. Repeatedly bashing his head with the steel flat bar--making the sound of an over ripened watermelon being busted on the ground. She swipes the keys from his belt, and gives a final kick to his wounded groan. He let out a eerily high pitched cry; as he collapsed in affliction. They ran to the room; desperately sifting through the demolished remains for the car keys, “we’ve got a problem.” Andy said in a sick timorous voice. It was like a heart piercing stab of failure! Only the coagulated blood traces remained in the hollow hallway.

Heavy boots produced a blood curdling sound throughout the motel. Tiffany turned back to the exit door; trying to remain calm, and not break any keys off in the locks. Andy stood rooted to the floor; preparing himself for a gruesome battle. The footsteps came to a halt-- the only thing that could be heard was the vigorous metallic tinkles of the key ring. With out warning the slow moving monstrosity began to run at them with remarkable speed. Rushing out of the shadows clamping a large terrifying scissor like garden tool. Andy struggled to hold him off. She opened the door, and ran out into the night. They shuffled around with each other; as the heavy door jack closed its self back. She could hear the distressing struggle going on inside, and all at once the noise ceased in the cold winter night. The long silence made her wait unbearable. The exit door popped open squeaking a hellish sound. Andy spilled through the doorway; battered and bruised, but still very much alive. She looked through the entrance, as she was helping him to his feet. The nauseating sight made her quickly turn her head in repulsion; as she assisted the door on its closing way with a hateful kick. She loaded him up in the SUV; punched the GPS home button, and pulled out with blue smoke rolling off the rear tires. Tiffany and Andy never returned to the Southern Appalachian Mountains again.  ©2012     

Author is currently working on a horror fiction, and hopes to have it published in 2013.


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