Room 15

A Story by Bryce Richard

I kiss my wife goodbye as I’ll be out of town for work for a couple days. Peering through the window of the hotel room I’ll be staying at tonight and gazing up at the bright stars in the dark night sky, a knock at the door interrupts me and drags me back into reality. Curious as to who has come to visit me at such a late hour, I open the door, but no one is on the other side, just a small, black box. I hesitate, but bring it back into my room and set it onto my bed, then walk into the kitchen to grab a knife to cut the tape to see what’s inside. Inside is a small handgun, a 9mm with a silencer attachment, I examine it, and then set it carefully back into the box. The next morning I am woken up by another knock at the door, this time, a small photograph is left underneath, a man with dark brown hair and black rectangular glasses. On the back, “Room 15” is written in dark black marker. I grab a few things, and I’m off to my first day of work. I take the elevator down to the first floor, and make my way to where Room 15 is. I knock on the door. The man from the photograph opens the door, I fire the gun and the sound of a chipmunk sneezing is heard across the hotel hallway, I drag the man into his bathroom. Then call my boss to let him know the job was done.