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Bodies on Route 66

W.L. Peterson

    Dried blood clung to the left side of the silver, ruby rimmed cup on the old wooden nightstand. The twin bed closest to the door was covered in blood and shed skin. The smell of mildew and death hung in the morning air of the old hotel room off Route 66.
    “I can’t believe this,” Natu said as she looked down at her new body. “I have never been a man before. This is great. I’m swinging the Excalibur over here!” She moved her hips from left to right as she stared at the mirror and back down at her male appendage.
    “Well, I’m glad you’re happy,” Santu said. “You’ve got a new meat suit and mine is about to expire in the next 24 hours.”
    “Lighten up. You’ve always been a sour puss,” Natu said. “But guess what I’ve never been?”
    “What?” Santu asked.
    “King Authur! Meet my Excalib—”
    “Shut up,” Santu said. “Put that damn thing away and focus. Clean up your mess, housekeeping will be here soon. We don’t want to frighten her right away.”
    Natu walked into the bathroom and changed into male clothing, a nice three-piece suit. She removed two thin trash bags from under the counter, double bagged them and returned to the room. She peeled her previously worn skin off the bed and tossed it into the trash bag. Next, she removed the blood-soaked bed sheets, took them and tossed them into the linen closet.
    Then there was a knock at the door.
    “Housekeeping,” the voice said.
    “Natu, I’m going to go hide in the shower while you answer the door,” Santu said. “Remember, they are expecting a man to be in this room. Your name is Karl, not Mr. Excalibur. You tell her there is a stain in the shower and you need her to remove it if possible. Understand?”
    “Got it,” Natu said.
    Santu grabbed the cup off the nightstand and proceeded to hide in the shower.
    “Please come in,” Natu answered.
    The housekeeper used her key and opened the door. “Hi, I’m Karen,” she said. “Your room seems to look in order. I like customers that clean up after themselves. It makes my job a whole lot easier.” Karen smiled as she looked around the room.
    “I’m Karl,” Natu said. “I’m pleased you like it. However, there is a stain in the shower. Could you take a look?”
    “Sure,” Karen said.
    Natu led Karen into the bathroom and pointed towards the closed shower curtain.
    Karen walked over and pulled the curtain back revealing Santu. She screamed and grabbed the silver cup and hit Santu in the head, knocking him down in the shower. She ran past Natu, towards the door. Natu lept from the bathroom and landed in front of Karen, blocking her escape. Natu covered Karen’s mouth, muffling the screams, and dragged her back to Santu.
    Santu took his right index finger, which now had a long sharp yellow claw extending from it and sliced her throat, decapitating her instantly. He took the cup and captured her blood in it. Santu drank the blood and with each sip, his human body shed like snakeskin.
    Free of the dying human skin, Santu revealed his real body. His skin is smooth gloss black. Eyes are yellow with deep black pupils. Jagged yellow teeth like a shark. Long yellow talons on his fingers and feet. Finally, two short black horns sticking out of the top of his head.
    “Now I consume the flesh to take her body,” Santu said.
    Santu kneeled next to Karen’s body. His mouth stretched as wide a microwave oven, and he consumed her head in one bite. Stretching his mouth even further apart, he consumed the rest of her body. Bones and all. His transformation was now complete.
    “Well, I guess I will have to be a woman again for next year,” Santu said. “I will definitely have to find myself a male body next time.” Santu finished the blood in his cup. “Well Natu, let’s grab our things so we can go.”
    Santu grabbed a small wooden box from under the bed. On the box is an inscription from a language long forgotten. He opened the box. The interior of the box was lined with crushed rubies and red felt. He grabbed the silver cup, now with more lines of blood down the side, and he placed it back into the box. Locked away for a year, until they find their next victims.

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