FYI: I am not fluent in English, I’m trying to be at least. Sorry for the potentials mistakes. Feel free to correct me in the comment section.
« – Mister? Are you all right?
- What the fuck happened?
- A client called me saying she could hear screams coming from you room. I entered and…
- The fire! Fuck! The fire? Is everyone all right ? Did you take my notebook out of this hellhole?
- What? No, there is no fire!
- What the…
- You are in your room sir, everything all right here. Except you of course.
- But the TV and the furnitures were on fire and…
- Jack, the TV is on its stand, there is no fire!
- I’ve tried to open the window but I couldn’t…
- Yes, client complaint often about our windows. That why it’s smell like cigarette and shit like that, can’t open it so they… »
Jack T. stopped listening to the young man, because he saw the spot on the ceiling transforming into a picture perfect demoniac face, horns and all.
« – Fuck ! I want to change room right now!
- Ho ho! Jack! You dull boy! All work and no play, hasn’t changed much it’s seems! »
The writer looked at the young man who’s face was metamorphosing into his wife head and using her voice.
« – You haven’t changed! Asshole!
- What? Leave! What are you doing here!
- But I’m your wife!
- You son of a bitch »
He received a slap on the right cheek and some spit on his face.
« – What the Fuck Rosie! You know you’ve got a restraining order against me, I can’t be close to you!
- See, I’m gonna call the cops! You will never see the kid again!
- Bitch! »
Jack pulls up a gun, point it at his wife face and shoot.
The brain matter splatter everywhere and the dead body transform itself as the poor hotel clerk.
« – Shit shit shit! Sorry!
- What the hell is going on here!
- I’ve… shoot a man!
- Oh my God Please help me!
- Hell no ! I’m calling the cops!
- No! I’m sick!
- God damn right you sick you son of a bitch! »
The hotel room door shatters and enters a giant snake.
« – What…
- Sssssss shut up! »
The author points his gun at the snake.
« – No darling please!
- Stop ! Stop using my wife voice! »
The reptile jump at him and wrap himself around Jack body and tighten his grip. The bones crack and Jack can’t breathe anymore.
And he woke up. The bedsheets are drenched. No dead body, no giant snake.
Feeling terrified, he decides to have a smoke. Maybe with this, he would be sure that he isn’t dreaming.
He doesn’t waste time, put the cigarette between his lips, take the lighter, light up the smoke and inhale.
He coughed. His lungs and throat weren’t used to the smoke anymore.
His heartbeat who was going haywire slowed dawn and the writer exhaled the poisonous vapor and sighted.
Everything was calm. He felt a sensation of appeasement, the nicotine doing their work.
He builds up some courage to take his notebook to write the strange and horrific dreams he had just experienced.
Just as he put the pencil’s lead on the paper, Jack hears a soft knock on the door.
The adrenaline immediately spread their powerful forces into every part of his body.
He waited a few seconds. Maybe he had confused a soft knock with a random noise from outside.
And an another knock, more noisy this time.
« – Yeah? Said Jack in a very low voice.
- Mister, it’s the hotel’s clerk.
- Did… what do you want?
- Is everything all right for you?
- Yeah… why?
- Just heard some… noise. You know…
- Well… what kind of noise?
- Like someone… like you weren’t alone…
- Ha… no as far as I know I am alone.
- It’s okay… if there someone with you… you know, one of those ladies of the night…
- No! God no! No I promise you I’m all alone here.
- You wouldn’t be the first customer doing that y’know.
- No! No! I don’t have prostitutes in my room.
- If you say so… Wouldn’t be surprised y’know. Fame and money get you some puss…
- I said no God damn it!
- Won’t you shut the hell up over there!
- Sorry madame ! I’m just checking out with a client.
- Well it’s the fucking middle of the night! Damn! You guys gonna have some bad rating on internet!
- Oh! Well, we’re used to it there so, go on.
- Jesus! I will get you fired!
- Ok boomer whatever.
- Little asshole!
- What a distinguished vocabulary you have here!
- Don’t mess with me boy!
- It’s okay!
- No it’s not!
- Holy shit!
- Boy you think you can fuck with me?
- Sorry madame!
- It’s America asshole! We carry guns for a reason!
- Yes, right, I’m sorry!
- Jack! I’ve told you I would found you! »
Gunshots erupt, door bust open. Jack’s ex-wife enters the room.
« – Is this a fucking dream?
- You shit! It’s probably more of a nightmare.
- Shit! What the fuck is going on!
- I haven’t forgotten Jacky boy! »
The woman shoots right at the writer.
Jack woke up. In sweat, once again.