Hotel Tranquility

“Welcome to Hotel Tranquility, Mr. Corkins. We hope your stay is a peaceful and salubrious experience. Please let us know if there is anything further we can do for you, and we can accommodate any of your wishes.” The tall, slender man in the tuxedo spoke in a refined British accent. His quiescent attitude and succinct speech belied the true nature of the world’s most luxurious hotel, which would go to any lengths to please its guests. He reached across the marble counter with the key to the Presidental Suite. Garth Corkins took the key without a sound and headed for the exclusive elevator to the tallest level of the hotel. His bags had already been transported up to the massive suite. A month’s vacation was just the ticket after Garth had overseen the merger of his own telecommunications company with the most famous bakery on the planet. A strange amalgam of businesses, but one that quickly proved immensely successful. The media, general public, and most of his board of directors had thought him insane, but Garth trusted his instincts. Everyone had thought he was crazy when he started his own business in the garage many years ago, and it had grown from a tiny polliwog to a giant industry that provided simultaneously top rate phone and data services along with luscious baked goods fit for any occasion. Lighting fast computer services and perfect scones with marmalade at the tips of your fingers.

Later that evening, Garth leaned back in his chair on the balcony of his suite. The light trickling away on the crystal clear water caressing the private, pristine beach below was an incomparable sights. His silhouette was splayed out behind him from the setting sun. No distraction could obtrude on this splendid setting. The tray from room service sat beside him, crystal and china so decadent that the accompanying silverware was plated with gold. Eager for a taste from his childhood, Garth had ordered a squirrel sandwich for dinner, and the English concierge had not hesitated with Garth’s request. Not long afterwards, a squirrel sandwich arrived, just like his mother used to make. Hotel Tranquility was willing to go to any lengths to please their clientele. The heights and depths of human nature were no obstacle. The day after next Garth would begin to hunt the board members who had tried to usurp his position during the merger. Kidnapped from their beds by the hotel and transplanted to Garth’s private hunting preserve, they would all inevitably fall to Garth’s blood soaked hand, excising the suppurating wound from his soul. He smiled and took the last bite of his squirrel sandwich, while the waves lulled him to sleep.