The Final Rest

I was driving along the coastal route,

Looking for somewhere to stay,

A Bed and Board that was cheap would suit

In a nice secluded Bay,

But the weather broke on the seaward side

As the clouds came tumbling in,

So I had to pull to the side of the road

Next to a painted Inn.

 

The swinging sign said, ‘The Final Rest’

And it creaked as the seawind blew,

With a skull emblazed on the painted crest,

Though rain impeded the view,

And what was left of an ancient wreck

Lay caught on the rocky shore,

Only a matter of yards beyond

The road, and the old Inn door.

 

I waited until the rain had stopped

Then made my way to the bar,

An ugly crone stood there alone

On her face, a terrible scar,

She leered and said, ‘Would you like a bed,

For the storm’s set in for the night,’

My mouth was dry as I wondered why,

That scar was a terrible sight.

 

I said that I’d stay for just one night,

Then stood, and couldn’t but stare,

She said, ‘I know what you’re looking at,’

Reached up, and patted her hair,

She ran her finger along the scar

With a wizened, frightful hand,

‘There were some once said I was beautiful,

Oh, the wondrous works of man!’

 

I dropped my eyes and apologised,

While taking the proffered key,

‘I hadn’t meant to be rude,’ I cried,

‘It’s nothing to do with me!’

‘That’s what they always say,’ she said

While leading me up to my room,

Way up there on the topmost floor,

It was dark, and like a tomb.

 

The room held a large four poster bed

With a canopy up above,

I shut the door and I sighed, ‘There but

For the grace of the Lord above…’

The wind was rattling round the eaves

It was well set in for the night,

And I lay and mused on the woman’s fate,

What a truly, dreadful sight.

 

I must have fallen asleep just then

For my soul was so depressed,

I didn’t want to be stranded there

But at least I’d get some rest,

Then two o’clock in the morning I

Awoke, as my heart had raced,

The canopy had been winding down

Was pressing down on my face.

 

I wriggled out from beneath its hold

And struggled to get my breath,

I now knew what was ‘The Final Rest’

It was nothing less than death,

I watched the canopy creep on down

Til it gripped where I had been,

It was nothing less than revenge on men

In a plan that was obscene!

 

Then nothing happened for half an hour

While I shuddered beside the bed,

I knew, if I had been lying there

The odds are, I’d be dead,

But then the bed had begun to move

To tilt on its side, real slow,

And then the floor, it had opened  up

To reveal a tank below.

 

And there the bodies of seven men

Lay in a watery grave,

Suffocated in blissful sleep

By a woman that was depraved,

The man that inflicted that dreadful scar

Had taken her life and soul,

Had turned her into a twisted crone

The Devil had in his hold.

 

She finally entered the deadly room

And her eyes were dull, and blank,

I jumped on out and I seized her then

And threw her into the tank,

She didn’t struggle, she didn’t cry

She knew it would come to this,

But sank and stared from the water tank

As the floor closed, with a hiss.

 

Whenever I travel around these days

I always sleep in the car,

It’s not so comfortable, that I grant

But it’s safer now, by far,

I hear that ‘The Final Rest’ has gone,

Developers bought the site,

And built a massive hotel just there,

They call it, ‘The Restful Night’.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Avinash]

The moment you mentioned you are on wheels, I knew that something interesting gonna happen and I was not disappointed at all.
Some people are damaged by others because they can not swim the tide and see brighter side of the life and all they are left with unresolved grudges and misplaced anger. I was rather sympathetic to her.

[TL Boehm]

they call it the restful night. Oh sure. What if she makes a comeback? A scary tale my friend!

[A Soap Mess Stories]

another exciting tale...as always David...

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

that tremble of times to come in memory of he past, well done, good read.

[Marie]

A sign with a skull on it is not goodadvertising for an inn--especialy one named "The Final rest." There are worse things that sleeping in your car.

I hope "The Restful Night" isn't haunted by this terrible woman, who might still be seeking revenge...

[Valentine]

Fantastic name for the new place. This is terrific Mate, one of your best. Into the favorites it goes. Keep them coming. Kathie

[MomzillaNC]

A mistreated woman getting even with all men… and in the end, a man still does wins out.

[Terpsichore]

Shades of Sweeney Todd! They say the female of the species is more deadlier than the male, it's true.

Great tale. T

[R Smith]

that's a frightful tale David, i think i might invest in some warm bedding in future and like you sleep in the car, an ingenious woman to have created such a trap, you took fear to a new level with this one, thanks for the scare :)

[Barbz]

What a twist on a woman scorned by so many men who dare it,,,It left a scar, that wasn't fair, perhaps the men should wear it! These men , oh probably big and strong with ego's just as big, look absolutely pitiful as they shudder in their rig. That rotted Inn along the shore was likely a spot for rest, but thanks to the abusive, it's no longer cupid's nest. Barbz got her back....LOl,,,But how is it she can see....she was married for 45 ....widowed for only three