500 Word Short Story
The Room From Hell
Scott A. Gese


500 Word Short Story

There was an out of order sign on the elevator door.

“Great, just what I need.” Gary was upset to say the least. He walked over to the main desk in a huff.

“May I help you,” asked the clerk.

“How long is the elevator going to be out of order?” he asked in anger.

“Might be out for a couple of days,” replied the clerk.

Gary was now fuming. “Listen buddy, when I booked here I asked for a ground floor room. You told me the only available room was on the sixth floor. Room 666 to be exact. Not my favorite number, but you assured me there was an elevator just down the hall. It was the last room in town and I needed it, so I took a chance...on the floor and the room. How in the hell am I suppose to get to my room?”

The clerk pointed to his right and said, “The stairs are just down the hall, next to the elevator.”

“Stairs?” Shouted Gary. “Look at me, I'm overweight and out of shape. I haven't walked a flight of stairs in years.”

“Well, maybe the stairs will help,” the clerk calmly stated as he once again pointed in their direction.

Gary was livid as he started down the hall, griping all the way. “I can't believe this. Your boss is going to hear from me. This is an outrage.”

Gary opened the door to the staircase and took a deep breath. How many times am I going to have to do this, he wondered to himself.

He reluctantly started up the first flight. When he reached the second floor, he sat down to catch his breath. He was mad, out of breath and now he was sweating. All the while cursing everything under the sun.

Once he caught his breath he resumed his climb. This flight was a little harder. When he reached the third floor he sat down again. It took him several minutes to catch his breath. More cursing. His blood pressure was up and he knew it. After ten minutes he decided to tackle the next flight.

He was sweating profusely and breathing hard before he made it to the third floor, but he did make it. His anger had now turned to rage. “If I die before I get to my room I'll come back from the depths of hell to haunt this place,” he screamed.

Just then the number three door opened. A mysterious figure in a black hoodie came through and sat down next to Gary. “Yo bro., what's up. Looks like you're having a time of it. How high you goin'?

“The sixth floor. Room 666, can you believe it?”

“Ohh, I know that room bro. That's my room.” The mysterious black hooded figure suddenly vanished. Gary was extremely confused. What, that's my room, not his.

They found him on the hotel stairs. Death had found him first.

© Copyright 2019 by Scott A. Gese All Rights Reserved.