Erma's Inn

The Inn sat back off the dirt road, nestled in the woods. Its picturesque surroundings drew many people and each always enjoyed their stay. The Inn was run by a little old lady named Erma. Erma fit the typical "Grandma" stereotype. She was always so kind and sweet.

Erma’s husband Ivan was very rarely seen. People knew he existed, cause heavens, Erma always talked so proudly of him. He was the love of her life she told everyone that cared to listen. And of course all of Erma’s guests loved to listen to her. How could they tell a sweet old lady to leave them be, they were at the Inn for a romantic time, not to listen to some old broads banter. No, no. No one could say that to sweet old Erma. How rude.

On the weekend of July 4th Erma was running around busy with her millions of errands. Trying to prepare for the 4th of July was always such a big task for her. She enjoyed it so much. All the fireworks and all the people, it was always such a wonderful time at the Inn. Ivan always put on such a wonderful fireworks display. The 4th of July is pretty much the only time the guests even see Ivan. Some of the guests assume he really doesn’t like to deal much with the Inn because he’s really not much of a people person. Not like Erma. No way. Not even close. But his fireworks display is the best in the county most people say. The way they shoot up into the sky and reflect on the little pond behind the Inn. So beautiful.

It was only 8:00 in the morning, but so much to do before the fireworks display. Erma grabbed the basement key from its hiding place in the kitchen drawer. She scurried over to the basement door, her hair still in curlers, bobbing up and down. Hastily she unlocked the door and quickly went down the stairs, careful not to forget to close the door behind her. Heavens no, that would be horrible.

On her way down the narrow steps Erma grabbed a whip off the wall. It was one of those long black scary looking boogers. And oh when that thing cracked, it hurt whatever it hit, but good. In the center of the basement Erma reached above her head and pulled the thin chain connected to a bare bulb. A soft glow lit the musty smelling basement. Underneath the musty smell was the faint odor of urine and feces. The faint odor made Erma really mad.

"You stupid bastard. Didn’t I tell you to hold it?"

From the corner of the basement, chained to the wall, Ivan mumbled something unintelligible.

"What’s that you stupid bastard?"

Erma walked over to her naked husband and saw the mess he was standing in. Piss and shit.

"You like that don’t you? I always knew you were a pig," Erma seethed and cracked the whip at his bird like legs.

Ivan cried out in pain and instinctively pulled back his legs. Trying to keep away from the licking of the evil whip. Ivan began to slip and slide in his own excrement, only to fall forward towards his wife. He could feel the horrible whip cracking on his chest.

"Stop, please Erma!"

Erma stopped, but not because Ivan begged, only cause she was tired from cracking the whip so viscously.