Fourteen people had died while sleeping on it. The manager of the hotel had long since stopped renting the room. The Death Bed slept, dreaming of a time when once again it would feel the cooling presence of a body. It stirred in its slumber. Those in rooms nearby woke screaming, unable to comprehend why their rest was interrupted by nightmares. Warnings went unheard. The door was unlocked. People roamed the musty room. Someone lay on the bed, grateful to have arrived after a long flight. The Death Bed smiled. Soon it would be feeding time, and it was starving.
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Sue Clayton
14/8/2020 08:16:32 am
Did the dead haunt the hotel, I wonder, waiting for the bed's next meal to swell their ranks. Nice ghostly tale.
V. L. Draven
17/8/2020 11:21:44 am
Glad you enjoyed the story. This was one I really enjoyed writing. The ideas for it had been floating around for a while; you could say they were haunting me. :) Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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