How does a hotel guest dispose of a corpse?

Finishing the third week of Killamazoo, Vivi and Maude are nursing their wounds, while John’s still trying to get rid of a corpse.

Here’s this week’s recap…

Chapter Three

John Burrows crept through a side door and hopped into the elevator before anyone saw his sack of lime or his Wal-Mart bag. He'd spent the morning twice reading the paper and wandering about town. Finding nothing, no clues to the woman's identity or his own.

On the fifth floor, he stuck his head out into the hallway. Empty. Outside, he moved, stepping fast, but silent. One corner and he'd be at his room. As he made the turn, another elevator opened behind him, and the worst smell ever seeped under his door.

He opened the door, jumped inside, holding his breath, and locking the door behind him. A much stronger odor than expected, but he'd prepared. He pulled one of three Lysol cans from the Wal-Mart bag and began to spray.

Next, he removed a full-length laundry bag, unzipped it, and stretched it out beside the corpse. With a key, he slit open the plastic sack and poured lime into the laundry bag. After dousing the body with more lime, he rolled it into the plastic bag. After adding more lime to her backside, he zipped her up in the bag, and then someone knocked on his door.

"Yes?" John Burrows said at the door. He opened it six-inches, till the latch caught. "What's the problem, sir?”

"Housekeeping says your room hasn't been cleaned in a few days, and we've gotten reports of a foul odor coming from inside."

"Sorry, sir. This is embarrassing. I've got some sort of stomach virus. That's why I asked the cleaning lady to stay away..." John forced a gag from his throat. "...and like I said, stomach. I'm afraid that smell is from my bathroom..." He gagged again. Louder. "Sorry, I got some meds from the doc today and should be back to normal in no time. But thank you for your concern."

"Well, okay, Mr. Burrows," the officer said with his hand over his mouth, "Call the front desk if there's anything we can do."

John closed the door, put his back against it, and slid down to the floor. "How the hell am I gonna get rid of this body?"

Later, he slid open the glass doors to the balcony, cranked up the AC, and sprayed the room with Lysol for the third time. After an hour, the lime tamed the odor, but John felt exhausted. He set the alarm for 3AM and fell asleep beside the corpse.

At 3AM, he woke, pulled a miniature crowbar from his Wal-Mart bag, and walked to the elevator. Inside, he looked over the buttons and clicked the three, the number with the mop bucket sticker next to it. He hoped there was no overnight house-keeping staff, but he wouldn't know till he broke into their office.

Two flights down, he slid the mini crowbar between the door and facing, but before he shoved, he heard voices inside. Dropping the bar into his back pocket, he turned the knob, opened the door, and saw Maude and Vivi trying to open a first aid kit. "Excuse me, Ladies," he said, "Maybe, I can help."

"Ah crap. You scared the shit out of me, you freak," Vivi said.

"What do you want, Burrows?" Maude added, "Not more freaking towels?"

"I've been sick, didn't want you ladies to get what I had. So, what happened, lose your keys?”

"Vivi keeps the first aid key, I don't, but she left it at home."

"Why'd they start locking these freaking things anyway, stupid," Vivi said, "Freaking dope-heads screw-up everything."

"So, you two aren't looking for drugs?"

"No, Dildo," Maude said, "Do we look like poppers to you? We don't need that shit."

"Maude bruised a rib or something," Vivi said, "We need an Ace bandage."

"And we ain't got money or patience for no emergency room," Maude said.

John grinned. "That's a Master lock. I think what you need..." He pulled the miniature crowbar from his pocket. "...is a master key."

Frowning, Maude opened the kit with the pry bar, then turned to John. "Now, what'd you have this for, and what do you want from us?"

"All I need," John said, "is to borrow a cleaning cart. I'll have it back before you get in tomorrow."

"You're a freak," Maude said, "You know that? Who gets off on cleaning their own room, maybe you're fantasizing about Vivi here?

"Naw, I've had this stomach flu. I want to scrub everything down with Lysol, make sure you ladies don't get sick."

"Take what you need, Mr. Burrows," Vivi said, "I gotta get this wrap on her, get home and sleep, then be back here at seven. Maude won’t need her cart until nine."

 

John watched from his window as the ladies left the building, then he wrapped the corpse and laundry bag with blankets. He hoped the rigamortis had faded enough to stuff the body into the cart without the legs sticking out, when it rolled it down the hall.

Ready to join the fun? As before, send me messages or leave comments through Twitter or Facebook. Tell me what you’d like to see our characters do next, where you want them to go, and what you want them to do. Together, we’ll have one hell of an adventure, and when it’s all over, I’ll publish the novelette on Amazon and give everyone who helped a complimentary copy.

Here’s the plot we’re working with this time…

The year is 1987. A man wakes up in a hotel. He has no idea who or where he is. He soon learns he’s at the Hotel Elmore in Kalamazoo, Michigan and his name is John Burrows. The woman in his bed is gorgeous, but dead. John’s got a gun in his hand, and someone’s knocking at his door—Oh, and if that’s not wild enough for you, except for his white hair and beard, our hero looks identical to a guy who died ten years earlier, a guy named Elvis Presley.