Turn Up the Heat

A couple resting in a hotel room find out something is seriously wrong with the room.

A puff of hot air rushed across my face, startling me upright from my sleep. Blinking in confusion, I studied the darkness of the hotel room.

My hand shook Max’s shoulder, expecting him to snort and roll over. Instead, he bolted upright too, his gaze roaming over the room.

“Do you see anything?” I whispered.

He shook his head. “But something woke me.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“No, before you touched me, something else woke me up. It was like someone blew hot air on me.”

My heart dropped into my stomach. “The same thing happened to me. Do you smell that?”

A foul odor made us gag. Sweat beaded on my forehead as the air simmered around us.

“Holy hell, it’s hot.” I gasped.

Something chuckled. I shrieked.

He patted my hand and said, “We’re gonna go talk to the front desk.”

We climbed out of the bed. Max walked. I bolted and beat him to the door. I grabbed the handle and jiggled it. “The door is locked.”

“What do you mean it’s locked? Unlock it.”

“I tried! Max, it won’t unlock!” I wrestled with the knob but nothing happened. Panic blossomed in my chest. “Open!”

“Move!” Max grabbed at the locks but nothing changed.

The heat shifted around us, the smell strengthening, making us gag again. I squealed and pounded at the door, trying to get someone’s attention. The sweltering air filled my lungs, making it difficult to breathe.

“Help!” I screamed and coughed. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think.

Max was collapsed on the ground, weakly tapping at the door, his face pouring sweat. Stretching for him, the carpet felt warm against my cheek, moist with my body fluid. The bad eggs odor choked me, strangling the last bit of my oxygen and strength. It was over.