"Cleanliness is next to Godliness"
Or is it? * * * Samuel carefully opened the package, the sweet scent filling the air. The needle went in filling the bar with the acidic liquid. Gently, he slid the bar back into its package, folding the ends. Closing his eyes, he felt the excitement build…
Robert Smith checked into the motel late that night. He'd just driven halfway across the country. He was dirty, tired and was ready for a hot soothing shower.
Smith looked around the lobby. It was empty. Heavy sighing he leaned over the counter. "Hello?! Can I get some service here?" he called impatiently while banging on the bell.
A startled voice came from the room behind the counter. "Ok, ok, I'll be right there." Samuel scooted awkwardly and nervously into view. He picked a key from the rack, glancing quickly at Smith and turned slowly around. Smith was drumming his fingers on the counter.
Samuel handed the key to smith and smiled a devilish grin, "Have a nice night."
"Yeah, what ever." Smith disregarded the evil smile as he spun around to leave. He was anxious to get clean and go to sleep.
Smith, dragging his rolling case behind him, walked down one of the outdoor hallways, searching for his room. He finally found it. As he was fitting the key into the lock, a gust of wind blew past him, sending chills up his spine. He glanced sharply at the empty parking lot to his right. Except for his car, there were not other cars parked at Sam's Motel. He shrugged, ignoring the strange feeling and opened the door. A strong odor swept upon his face. He turned on the air conditioner, hoping it would rid the smell.
The shower water was frigid. After waiting several slow minutes for the water to warm, Smith could finally get in. Leaning his head back, he let the hot water beat on his face. It feels so good to be clean, he thought. Bending down, he picked up the package of hotel soap that was sitting on the edge of the tub. He opened it carelessly, not taking notice the package was already partially opened. He threw the paper on the floor. He stood for a moment with the water beating hard on his shoulders, massaging his tired muscles. He started rubbing the soap on his arms. Just as the lather was building, he felt a stinging sensation. He turned, allowing the water to rinse the soap off and he saw that his arms were bright red. He paid little attention and started scrubbing his torso with the soap. He soon dropped the soap, for the stinging had turned to burning and it continued all the way down his legs.
He turned the water to cold, hoping that it would stop the burning. But before he could rotate the knob, his flesh began to bubble. Alarmed, he looked at his bubbling flesh and felt the sudden need to throw up. No more than a minute had passed, and he was throwing up blood. Breathing heavily, he let out a low moan of pain, for now the skin on his legs and torso was also bubbling.
Smith stumbled out of the shower, leaving the water running and grabbed a towel. He just barely got it wrapped around his waist when his flesh began to tear and blood began seeping out. He was now screaming in pain, but no one could hear him, for he was the only guest at Sam's Motel.
Before he knew it, his cheeks began to slowly rip, as the other skin continued to peel away. He glanced down at his leg; he could see his bones protruding, covered in blood. There was no longer any skin to cover them.
Smith could no longer scream; he was in too much agony. The ripping, tearing, bursting continued. As soon as the acid had reached the bloodstream, his blood vessels began to erupt; blood covered not only him, but also the floor, the shower and his towel.
Before long, Robert smith was just a bloody mess of bones , left over skin and organs.
An hour or so later, Samuel came calmly into the room. He was wearing rubber gloves and carrying a shovel. He walked into the bathroom and regarded the ghastly sight before him. Shaking his head, he picked up Smith by what remained of his legs and slowly dragged him through the room, smearing blood on the carpet all the way. He got him out side, and as he was pulling the corpse along the sidewalk, he could hear Smith's bones scraping against the concrete. Of course, this sound no longer phased him, for he'd been doing this for quite a while. A content smile appeared on Samuel's face.
Samuel dragged Smith's bloody remains around to the back of the motel where a hole was waiting. He tossed the body in, and waved goodbye. He used the shovel to toss the dirt back into the hole, then covered it with leaves, so unless under close inspection, it would never be discovered.
He headed back to Smith's room, whistling as he walked. When back in Smith's room, he scrubbed, and cleaned the carpet, and brought in fresh towels. The shower was then rinsed out and Smith's clothes were thrown away. He sprayed some air freshener and turned off the air-conditioner.
Walking back into the bathroom, Samuel reached into his pocket and pulled out a most essential item: a brand new bar of soap. He held it between his two hands and regarded it proudly. It had been repackaged with such precision, no one would see that it had once been opened. He placed the soap on the side of the tub, leaving it there to await its next guest.