This one is more humorous than my other 'short' story. :D 'Kay, bye!

~ Carrot

Motel Death

The motel smells of cigarette smoke and bad sex.

I try not to wrinkle my nose, because Thade is here with me, and I don't want him to think I can't handle it.

"This place is disgusting," he says and waves his hand around in front of his nose. I sigh quietly.

The concierge at the front desk is dozing off, and every so often a soft snore escapes. Thade and I walk slowly to the desk, ominously, like our contract says we have to, and I use the time to look around

I can't imagine why anybody would want to pay to live here, even temporarily. The linoleum floor looks like it has never been white, even though I knew it has been, not to mention looking like it has never been washed, ever. On second thought, that's probably the case. The wallpaper is a ghastly looking plum, and it has splotches of something I can't identify all over it.

The single working light is swinging and flickering overhead, as we finally stop in front of the boy, casting our faces in shadow. We couldn't have asked for better. Thade is grumbling about needing a raise while he reaches behind him for his scythe. I already have my baseball bat in hand, but I bring it up, so that the concierge will be able to see it. Then we both mutter about our stupid job as we shuffle around searching for the best villainous pose we can possibly manage.

Thade has forgotten to put his hood on- again- and I nudge him to point it out, trying not to deviate from my newfound posture. He thanks me and hurriedly flips it over.

The concierge looks to be still in his teens. Puberty has not been treating him well. I eye the glaring red of his acne warily, as though, somehow, it might transfer on to my own face. I hate puberty. It had not been kind to me either.

Thade looks at me and I clear my throat. The boy does not wake up, his head still lying on the greasy-looking table. I repeat my action, louder this time. Still, his eyes remain shut. God, I hate my job. Gripping my baseball bat, I grunt as I bring it up and down to bash into the counter, millimetres away from his face.

This time, he wakes up. As he bolts up, Thade tries not to snicker at the red imprint the edge of the counter has left on the boy's face.

The concierge's eyes flicker from the ruined table back to us and back to the table again. "Bed for two?" he manages to squeak out. His voice cracks on 'two' and this time Thade cannot control his sniggering. I hit him on the head with my baseball bat. How could the idiot boy have mistaken us for a couple?

"No," I say, as gruffly as I can, "Which room is Eda Thedash in."

I don't ask it as a question, because I'm supposed to be menacing and in control.

"I-I'm afraid that's classi-" the boy begins, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

Thade growls and flexes his muscles- not that anyone can see them under his cloak, and readjusts his grip on the scythe. It is as though the boy only realised that Thade was holding a scythe, and I want to face palm wearily.

"1-138," he squeals, cowering. I am not kidding. The guy is what, sixteen or seventeen and he is squealing?

Thankfully, we don't have to deal with him any longer. Thade and I file up the stairs and attempt to project an intimidating aura.

Why is stuff like this even required?

Eda's door is ajar, and I lean back and kick it open. The effect is ruined when the door rebounds off the wall and slams shut. Thade smirks at me and I scowl, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose.

"Like you can do any better," I sneer.

He looks amused. "Honey, I've been doing this for much longer than you. I think I can kick a simple door open."

Readjusting his heavy cloak so that he can kick the door better, he does what I did. The door opens. And rebounds off the wall and slams shut. Again. He blanches and I try not to laugh.

"Do you think we'll get pay deducted for this?" I ask worriedly.

He laughs. "What, for not being menacing properly?"

I nod.

"Yeah, probably."

"Why were you laughing?"

He shrugs. "'Cause it was funny?"

No. I am horrified all over again. How could that concierge have mistaken is for a goddamned couple? Even though he was right when he said he'd been doing this longer, I'm more or his babysitter.

"Whatever," I say, and reach past him to open the door, normally this time. I quickly push it open and get back into my previous villainous position, while Thade tries to find a new one in the few second he has. What can I say? My pose was a really good one.

The door swings open creakily. I swear, I will kill myself if it does the same thing as earlier. It doesn't.

We stride in, and I can feel my high ponytail swaying annoyingly. I hate it when it does that. Eda Thadesh is sitting on her bed, reading a magazine. She has light blonde hair and looks very petite. Oh, great, it's bloody Tinkerbell. She doesn't see us. We creep closer, and I raise my bat while Thade prepares to swing his scythe. She looks up at us and we pause, unsure of what to do now.

Why hasn't she had her heart attack yet? It said on the brief that Eda Thedash is supposed to die at 8:23pm of a heart attack at Crimesly Motel. Why is she not dead or dying? I lower my bat and check my watch. It is 8.23pm. I look up at Eda Thedash. Nope, not dead. I check my watch again. 8.23pm. Eda Thedash is still not dead. In fact, she is inspecting her nails with a bored air and looking healthy.

Thade looks at me. I look at Thade. We both look at Eda Thadesh.

"Do you have any heart problems?" we ask simultaneously.

She laughs, covering her mouth with one perfectly manicured hand. "You two are too cute together!"

No. We are not. We are not cute. Well, I am, but Thade isn't. And we are most definitely not cute together. Why is this happening to me? Why? I look at Thade again. What is it that people see in us? Why do people think someone like me would be dating him? He is rude and sexist. He's a complete pig.

"Anyway, guys," Eda Thedash says, clapping her hands together, "Well, I'm from Management, and I was here to test you!" There is a pause, as if she wants us to clap for her.

Why the Hell should we clap for her?

"You guys both passed!" she says brightly. There is that pause again.

"Aren't you happy you get to stay together?" Silence.

"Thade, I'm leaving," I say and turn on my heel for the door. Stupid bloody Management. I can't believe they sent me, a Death, out to this stupid stinking motel that has never seen soapy water, like, ever, with it's pimply concierge boy to kill an Eda Thedash who looks like bloody Tinkerbell and is too happy. And, to top it all off, they sent me with Thade, which is bad, because, apparently, we look like a couple when we're together. This has not been a good day. I want a pay raise.

"Adeth!" Thade says, "Wait for me!"

I do not wait, because I am grumpy and I am going to Management to ask for that pay raise.


Rearrange their names! :D It's pretty easy. Even Eda Thedash.