Short Story Submitted as part of English III Gothic Literature Unit.
Parkside Resort was always an escape from the rest of the world for Emily and Homer. They went there at least twice a year, every summer and sometimes fall. They’d stay in room 319. The room consisted of a king sized bed, a TV with only a few channels, red shag carpets, thin drapes, and a brown chair in the corner. They continued to rent out this same room for years until Homer fell ill. He was diagnosed with the common cold, and fought for two, hard, painful, agonizing hours. Until he finally dropped dead one afternoon while watching his favorite television broadcast, Dr. Phil screaming at children.
Emily mourned for seconds on end, crying over the loss of her dear Homer. Finally, her servant, Tobi, knew there something she had to do. An idea struck in the mind of Tobi. She remembered that in Homer’s will, that he wrote quickly on a McDonald’s napkin seconds before he passed, he had said something important. Homer wanted his remains to lay at Parkside Resort, on top of Mount Mountain, inside the Trump Quarters. He wanted his remains to lay on the bed, for fourteen consecutive minutes. No more, no less. Homer had once taken a tour of said mansion, one of the first times Emily and him had stayed at Parkside Resort. While Emily was touring the rest of the house, Homer fell asleep on this very bed. He lay asleep for fourteen consecutive minutes. No more, no less. To the day of his death, Homer still said it was the best sleep he had ever slept.
“Emily!” screamed Tobi. Emily rushed down the stairs, tissues still in hand. Confused, she asked Tobi what was wrong. Tobi explained the plan to Emily. Emily was quick to agree, but hesitant. Their plan was to take Homer’s body to Parkside Resort, carry him up Mount Mountain, and sneak him into Trump Quarters. They would then, place him on the bed for fourteen consecutive minutes. No more, no less.
The plan was on. First thing they had to do was get to Parkside Resort without Homer being spotted. This would be a difficult task because Homer weighed 400 pounds, no more, no less. They first tried shoving his body into the trunk of the car. About four miles down the road, the car died. After this, they attempted rolling Homer’s body the rest of the way. Eventually, their arms grew too tired to continue. Thankfully, they looked up and saw that they had arrived at Parkside Resort.
The first task was not to be an easy one. They had to go past the check in desk, with a dead body. They searched their minds for an idea. They both sat, and meditated for a minute and half. No more, no less. Finally, after meditating, Emily’s eyes darted towards the gift shop. Inside, she saw a Hawaiian shirt that had bold red letters spelling, “Party ‘till I Croak!” and blue sunglasses with palm trees on the side. After discussing for several minutes, they decided they knew what to do. Emily sent Tobi into the gift shop with thirty dollars she found in Homer’s pocket. Tobi came out with the shirt and sunglasses and a hat.
“Great idea,” Emily said, “This will cover Homer’s head!”
“Oh… yeah. That’s what it’s for.” Tobi said while holding back tears. She reluctantly took off the hat and gave it to Homer. The sunglasses would hide the dead, soulless look in Homer’s looking holes. The shirt will cover the pale, blue, 400 pound body. Finally the hat, the hat that Tobi longed for, was placed on Homer’s head. Not for any purpose, other than style.
Now their journey had begun. They carried Homer with great ease. Homer’s limp arms lay on each of their shoulders. It took nine, tiresome hours to carry Homer up Mount Mountain. Finally, they had arrived. They walked up to the front door, adjusting Homer’s sunglasses and buttoning his shirt, and knocked. Standing before them, in a dark gloomy, gloom, thunder striking in the background, was none other than the dreaded, evil, cursed, feared, Count Phillip. Count Phillip had a pale complexion, a long pointed nose, and an eye patch that could see in your soul. The eye patch covered a scar that Count Philip had gotten.
The two shuttered in fear, for they knew of his gloom.
“Velcome, to vy vestate.” Count Philip began, “come vright in.” Slightly more at ease, the three entered Trump Quarters. As they entered, they noticed that there was a party going on. All the rich and famous who attended Parkside Resort, wore very gloomy, Gothic clothing.
Count Phillip glanced over at Homer.
“Homer, my vriend, I’m so glad vou could vake it.” He reached over to shake Homer’s hand. Emily, panicking, swiftly threw her hand under Homer’s elbow and placed his hand in Count Phillip’s.
“Vell.. okay.” said Count Phillip. “Enjoy Vhe Varty.”
Emily, Tobi, and Homer, walked around the party. Trying not to seem suspicious. Many would walk up to Homer, trying to start conversation. The excuses were endless; Homer was bit by a snack on the mouth and can no longer speak. He had given an oath of silence when he joined a new church. Or, Emily’s favorite, He doesn’t like you. Finally, they made it to the stairs. This staircase led directly to the bedroom. (Bow Chicka Wow Wow). They knew this would be a risky risk. Once the party attendees saw that Homer’s leg were not moving and he was being dragged, they might find it suspicious. They needed to think of a plan. Tobi quickly moved Homer to the floor, while she ran away into the distance. Emily was unsure what the plan was… until she heard the fire alarm. Everyone shrieked in fear and ran out all exits. Now, they made their break.
They had to move quickly before someone realized there was no fire. They bolted up the stairs, dragging Homer’s lifeless corpse up with them. They finally reached the bedroom door. Upon opening the door, the heard a voice behind them.
“Vell, Vell, Vell. Vhat do we have vere?” said a familiar voice. It was none other than Count Phillip. The two screamed in fear. “Shouldn’t you ve outside? Vhat about Vhe Vire?” he said, gloomily. Emily and Tobi looked at each other and knew what they had to do. They both took their fists, and punch the cheeks of Homer. Spit flies from his mouth, landing on Count Phillip. Count Phillip begins to cough, and then sneeze.
“Vo…. Voooooooooooo!” Count Phillip dies from the common cold. Now, there was standing in their way. They opened the door to the bedroom and saw the bed. The bed was coated with a soft, red, gloomy blanket. Pillows perfect to lay your head upon. They shuffled Homer’s body over to the bed. They lay him upon the perfect bed. Suddenly, Emily starts to whimper. Tobi comforts her, stroking her arm. With the other arm, she silently reached over, grabbing the stylish hat from Homer’s head. They sit in peace now. They lay silent in the dark room for fourteen consecutive minutes. No more, No less…