Room 245

Room 245

By

Jamey O’Donnell

“Room 245. Take the elevator up to the second floor, turn right, it’ll be the last door on your right.” said the desk clerk, a curious looking old man with a bald head and long white beard.

Marcy grabbed the suitcase handle and wheeled her belongings to the elevator door, key in hand.

This was not the ideal place to be staying, but since it was the only hotel in Piedmont, she didn’t have much choice. Besides, it had been a very long day of driving through 3 states, so the only thing she was interested in was a comfortable bed with hot running water in the room. Other than that, she could really care less about the hotel, or the town in general.

Kansas was not a visual wonderment to drive through, so the miles she had driven were especially tough. Starting out in Green River, Utah and driving through Western Colorado and the Rockies was beautiful, but as soon as she got past Denver, everything turned flat and boring.

Marcy had originally started in Los Angeles and was heading to St. Louis for her sister’s wedding and drove straight through to Green River on her first day, so by the end of the 2nd day, she had already put in a collective 1600 miles, and she was beat.

The elevator door opened on the second floor and she made her right turn as instructed, down a very dimly lit hallway, about the same décor as the old time lobby, and opened her door to room 245.

Once inside, she found herself plopped down on the very old queen size bed where the box springs squeaked, almost unable to move from exhaustion, but managed to get herself into the bathroom to take a shower, hoping for hot water.

She was too tired to eat, and all she wanted to do was shower and go to bed.

The room was old, but it was clean, and it would suffice.

The hot shower was manna from heaven, and she could almost have curled up in the bathtub and slept right there with the hot water cascading down on her, but she managed to turn off the lights and slide directly under the covers, barely drying herself off on the way to the bed.

Sleep. Beautiful, peaceful, welcoming sleep, as the pitter patter of little feet moved about the room, unbeknownst to Marcy, who was lost in slumberland.

She had woken in the middle of the night from a chill, as the blankets had been shifted off of her, exposing her naked body to the elements of the night, with the window open that she had opened upon first entering the room.

She thought it odd that the blankets were completely off of her, as she wasn’t a radical sleeper by nature, and rarely kicked the covers off, unless she was sick and overheated.

She noticed a tiny green light coming from the ceiling above her, probably from a smoke detector. She got up to get a drink of water out of the bathroom sink, then promptly went to back to bed to resume that wonderful dream involving her and her mother so long ago, back when she was a child.

About an hour later, she woke again, this time to the giggling of little children, and she bolted up straight in her bed, this time in a cold sweat, looking around the room that was illuminated by the streetlight outside, but otherwise in total darkness.

“Hello?” she said softly, breaking the silence of the room.

“Is anyone there?” she asked the darkness.

Nothing. No answer. Nary a sound. She must have dreamed she heard children laughing.

This time she laid under her covers for a bit, not falling directly back to sleep, instead listening while pretending she was asleep, and after a couple minutes more, she heard tiny footsteps at the foot of her bed, and she was petrified.

Then she felt the tug of her covers, ever so slightly, start to pull them down toward her feet.

She was fully wide awake now, and she knew this wasn’t a dream. Something was going on in her room, yet she was so terribly frightened and couldn’t move a muscle. She laid there engulfed in her terror, wishing whatever was going on would stop.

Eventually she worked up the nerve to reach over to turn on her bedside lamp, and with a pull of the chain, the room lit up and it was her, the bed, the nightstand, the lamp, and the dresser in the room, and no one and nothing else.

She then looked under the bed and saw nothing but a couple dust bunnies, but she did notice the closet door for the first time, and it was slightly ajar. She couldn’t remember noticing it before now, wondering if it had always been slightly open.

It was becoming obvious to her that she was still running on very little sleep, so she must be hallucinating, or imagining things that were not there, so she then retreated to underneath the blankets, where she would be safe from the outskirts of her mind.

She felt the covers tug again at her feet, and then suddenly they were ripped off of her from her feet, leaving her totally naked and exposed.

Then she saw ropes whip out from under the right side of her bed, sailing over her to the left side, and they then tightened on her with a tremendous force, preventing her from jumping out of the bed. There must have been 15 to 20 ropes over from head to toe, tightening to the point of being very uncomfortable, and she then noticed the closet door swung wide open!

Just as she was about to scream out, a tiny arm reached across and stuffed a washcloth deep inside of her mouth, almost choking her, and it was then she saw two very tiny men, naked, run from the closet to under her bed.

What in the hell was happening, she thought?

She heard laughing again, the same laughter she had mistaken for children earlier, but now realized it was the tiny laughter of men and women.

These were tiny little people assaulting her, and she felt helpless, as she could not move an inch from her bindings.

Then at the edge of the bed, her worst nightmare revealed itself.

It was a tiny old bearded man, wearing a strange pointed cap, and nothing else, standing at her feet masturbating, with a dick 3 times bigger than it should have been, looking at Marcy with deep black demonic eyes and smiling as if he hadn’t eaten for a week and he was looking at a full course roast beef dinner.

Then another tiny old man jumped on the bed next to her head, also naked.

It dawned on her what she was looking at.

These were not little people per se.

These were gnomes. Garden gnomes, like the kind you see in people’s front yards next to their front doors.

She was trying to scream but no sound could come out. The rag in her mouth was being held in place by one of the ropes binding her to the bed.

The bed began to fill up with gnomes crawling up from the sides of the bed, until there had to be at least 12 to 13 of them, all naked, some masturbating over her, with some rubbing her legs and breasts and kissing her naked skin.

Not all of them were man gnomes either, as some were women.

One-foot-tall gnome people, laughing and giggling, all engaged in a massive orgy with a giant strapped to a bed against her will, straight out of a scene from an X rated Gulliver’s Travels.

Then a tiny arm pressed a rag with a very pungent smell against the bottom of her nose, and everything went black.

When she came to, she was off of the bed, but still tied up securely, preventing any movement, but she was being dragged to an open panel in the wall next to the closet by at least 20 of them. Her hands were now firmly tied behind her back and her feet tied tightly around her ankles.

They began stuffing her into this hole in the wall that was actually a laundry chute, and when she was finally all the way inside, she fell down the chute past the first floor into the basement, hitting her head on the concrete floor and once again, knocking her out.

Hours later she had awoken with a splitting headache and dried blood on her face, head, and shoulders.

All she could do was cry uncontrollably, not knowing what these little monsters had in store for her, but whatever it was, she knew it wasn’t going to end well.

She knew she had to be in a basement of some sort, as there was a big laundry machine with dryers on the wall, like in a laundromat, and a huge furnace with coal outside of it on the floor by the furnace door.

Then she saw something that caused her blood to run cold.

A human hand, a woman’s hand, laying on the floor next to the pile of coal, severed from the arm that once held it, and back in the corner of the basement, she could have sworn she saw a pile of human bones.

These little bastards were going to eat her!

She frantically scoured the room with her eyes, searching for any kind of instrument she could use to free herself from the ropes that bound her, and she saw a coal shovel next to the pile of coal. She shimmied her way across the floor to the shovel, then began rubbing the rope tying her hands against the sharp end of the shovel, eventually freeing her hands to untie the rest of her.

Just as she untied the last rope, a gnome walked down the stairs, and upon seeing her, he screamed out, only to be beaten down off the stairs by Marcy with the shovel, and it was the old man at the front desk upon her check in, only he was now only a foot tall.

She beat him dead until he was unrecognizable, then ran naked up the steps to find herself in the lobby, then ran up the stairs to the second floor, down the hall to room 245 and kicked in the door.

There were her belongings just as she had left them.

Hurriedly, she put on some jeans and a t shirt, grabbed her keys, wallet, and suitcase, and ran out the way she came, out the front door to her car parked just down the street.

For a moment, she thought about finding law enforcement, but figured this was too weird a story for anyone to believe, so she instead started her car and drove the hell out of town as fast as she could.

Piedmont, Kansas was the strangest place she had ever been and had no plans of ever coming back.

She was in such a hurry to get out of there, she didn’t notice the two gnomes in the back seat on the floorboard, clutching large sharp butcher knives, focused on preventing her from ever telling this story to anyone.