Short Story: Premier Innterlude

Horror, but on a budget.

I press the purple plastic key card against the door lock, it peeps and flashes green and I hear the welcome shukk of the lock releasing. I’m pushing open the heavy door then dragging my case into the familiar purple-washed room.

Purple carpet, purple bed cover, black furniture, that familiar old grey felt banquette-thing with the weird grey felt cylindrical bolster on top. A tiny kettle. Two sachets of coffee and two tea bags. Identical to all the bedrooms in the company’s inventory. I flick on the lights. It’s dark, it’s late, I’m exhausted. I begin to shrug off my jacket. I realise I’m in the wrong room when I spot a small figure sitting still on the bed, facing me.

The kid’s wearing Superman pyjamas and he’s got his eyes closed. Kinda looks like I did when I was his age. So skinny, and so pale he’s hardly there. He’s alone and unmoving in the room. Odd. Where are his parents? I look down at my hand. It’s wet (was it raining outside?) and it’s shaking. Beneath his unruly mop of blonde hair, his eyes flick open. Two intense blue eyes transfix me.