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Writer's pictureTakeoverTales

Skeletons in the Closet

A chorus of whispers came from outside my room, seeping in through the small cracks around the motel room door. With a fragile finger, I pulled at the cheap blinds that cast yellow skits of light into the room to find nothing outside of my window.


The whisper grew louder as I stepped outside my room, latching the door behind me with my key in hand. A few steps farther down the balcony and the I heard a thud coming from room 211. Almost instantly the whispering stopped and I knew that this was where they were coming from.

I slowly reaches out to grab the hands and turned, the latch unlocking as the door began to open. All I saw was a long black line from the opening before I felt a hand on mine.


”Sorry, sir, this room is off limits.” The owner of this crappy motel pulled the door, clicking it into place and turning the key inside the lock. He was wearing a button up shirt with part of it untucked and a few buttons missing. A mustard stain was barely visible under the pocket and the once stiff collar had now begun to curl.


“I...” I stammered, “I didn’t mean to. Sorry.” I could feel the couple of drinks I had earlier in the night still running around my bloodstream, but the effects of the intoxication were beginning to disappear. Especially now that I had been warned to stay away from room 211.


Back in my own borrowed space, I collapsed onto the bed, my Hawaiian shirt messy on my torso. The room was quiet, which didn’t bother me especially since most of the night consisted of loud electronic music and my desperate attempts to flirt at the bar. After a moment I heard the buzzing of the radiator and the distant mumbles of guests bickering a few rooms over. Rolling over, I stared at the wall until I found myself drifting off to sleep.

 

I gasped as I rolled off the bed, hitting the floor with a thud. I pressed my palm into my forehead as it started to pang and listened to the room. The whispers were back.


I locked the door behind me once more and sneaked down the balcony until I got to 211. The door that was once locked was now slightly cracked.


”So much for off limits.” I said, pushing the door open until I found myself standing inside of the room.


Slam!


The door latches shut and I turned to open it, but found that the door was stuck. Fear sliced through my body when I heard a thud come from the closet behind the bed.


”Hello?” I said out loud. No answer. I crept towards the sound after trying the front door again only to have the lock wiggle in place. The closet had slats in it, which only allowed the other side to be seen through. The idea of someone on the other side sent a shiver down my spine, but curiosity forced my hands forward to grab the handles. With one swift pull, the doors opened and I stumbled backwards with a yelp as a pile of bones clattered on the carpet.


"What the - " I said as I coughed, a dust cloud billowing into the air. The skeleton still had flesh on it and the smell almost made me hurl onto the neatly pressed linens. I scrambled towards the entrance and tried again, but the lock kept me in once more. The whispers were getting louder as I tried to get out and then they stopped instantly. Turning to see the pile with horror in my eyes, I noticed that the pile of collagen and skin was now completely reformed and standing in front of the closet. The hollow eye sockets were pointed in my direction and as I pressed myself against the door the skeleton ran towards me.


I yelled until I felt the sharp pain of his collision and then nothing. Feeling was gone and I opened my eyes to see an empty room.


I'm too drunk for this shit. I said, but as I tried to speak, I noticed nothing came from my mouth. My hands began to move on their own and I found myself looking at them as they turned.


"Well, thanks for the bone-bag, bone-bag." My body moved on its own towards the mirror hanging on the wall. I smiled a smile I had never seen on my face before and the thing in control started to take off my clothes, looking at my body.


"Not bad." The new me said. I tried to speak and to even think, but it was starting to become so hard. The new controller ran his fingers along my abs and admired my chest before buttoning my shirt back up.

He stepped out in my drunken stupor and squinted at the red neon sign that lit up the parking lot of the motel. With a chuckle, the skeleton adjusted my cock in his new pants and smiled, knowing exactly what he was going to do tonight. He clicked my tongue and winked at a woman smoking a cigarette on the staircase to the first floor and she huffed in her fishnet stockings and tight shirt.


"Not my type." She said between puffs.


"Not mine either." They both chuckled. I couldn't feel myself anymore and I was beginning to get sleepy or whatever this feeling was since I was no longer controlling my body.


I leaned against the phone booth under the neon sign and searched my pocket, the skeleton looking for something to identify his new self with. A wallet told him his name was Danny and his new skin had a gym membership. He used it well. He looked down his shirt again and smiled at his meat sack and the toned torso he now controlled. His cock pulsed against and he adjusted himself, realizing a pair of red shades were hanging out of his back pocket.


"Oh. That's a nice touch." He slid them on and continued to hang on the phone booth until he could see someone out of the corner of his eye. The shadows made out another drunk man with half of his shirt sticking out of his pants and his collar had begun to curl.


"Long time no see, old friend." He said under the red light of the neon sign.

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