Fantasy Hotel California: the new Host

[egghead]

The hard thump of a body hitting the ground was enough to turn Glen’s head. Crumpled up like a used tissue was someone with the face of a man he remembered fondly. It was impossible not to care, even if he knew deep down that that person was long gone.

“Are you okay?!” He dropped to his knees. Blood had begun to seep through the bandages, painting the host’s fancy clothes red. Hesitating, he hooked his arm around Sisceal, hoisting him back onto his feet. “Come on, let’s find you somewhere to sit down.”

Glen couldn’t think of anyplace else besides the hotel rooms. His own room was a no-go, but he was (almost) certain one of his fellow guests would lend them a bed.

Heaving a sigh, he half-carried, half-dragged his boss down the corridor.

 

[buzz]

That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. It did more than throw him off, it embarrassed him and humiliated his ego. “What?” He finally felt the pain rush into his nerves, the adrenaline dissipating with his show of machismo. “Ouch...” Vincent dropped the silverware onto the floor and turned to tenderly nurse his wound. “Oh, whatever! What did you hags even want?”

She couldn’t stifle a snort while watching the way he squirmed. The demoness glided to his side, carried by the sheer joy of the sight. “Aw, it’ll be fine. Here!” She waved a hand over the gash and, in an instant, nothing happened.

“...I guess the magic juice is out today,” she frowned, knowing it wasn’t just Vincent who was embarrassing himself at that point. “Well, it doesn’t seem that bad, nothing too deep. Quit whining, Vincent, you’re a strong boy!” Katrinne chuckled in misplaced bravado at what she thought was a clever jibe, “shut up ugly” being the strong boy’s grumbled response. She soon realized it wasn’t as great of a remark as she thought.

 

[egghead]

This man’s antics were beginning to get stale. “Don’t waste your breath,” she told the she-demon. “The idiot stabbed himself. Nothing’s going to top that.”

She was about to suggest they leave when the tap of footsteps reached her ears. A scowl took hold of Rachel’s face when she saw who was approaching. At least until she noticed how busted the hotelier looked. By that point her grimace had softened. “What happened to him?”

Glen spoke through grunts as he heaved mostly dead weight across the floor. “I...I don’t know. But he needs to rest. Can I borrow your bed?”

The redhead only snorted. “After what he did to me? Hell no.” She stared Sisceal directly in the eyes. “He can die in a fire for all I care.”

 

[buzz]

He rolled his eyes, readying another schoolground insult, but drew a blank at the sound of a newcomer. Surprisingly, he recognized it as the greaseball from earlier. The dainty returned to prodding at the stinging hole in his arm, unbothered and not even sparing a glance at whatever else was going on.

Katrinne nodded with an ambivalent shrug. “You’re right,” she looked back at the sulking figure briefly, before moving on at the behest of her new roommate. There wasn’t much time for reflection, fortunately, when the new bellboy returned with what looked like roadkill. Something tugged at her heartstrings yet she kept her tongue tied, a continued lesson in apathy for a demon too involved with emotion for horrible people. “Sorry, Glen.” Her lips pursed as she looked away from the ghastly sight. “I’m sure the Host can take care of himself. Maybe,” it took her a moment to summon the courage to voice her thoughts, “it’s better if he died. Wouldn’t that free us?”

As if by fate, he slyly eyed the topic of discussion, pupils straying to the far corner of reddened, puffy eyes. Vincent swiftly swung about face upon catching sight of the albatross hair he’s grown to love.

“NO WORRIES! That poor man can definitely sleep in MY room!” The abruptly passionate outcry was met with the grimace of his devil friend, who knew exactly what was going on. Trying to make it less awkward and more noble, he continued, “Of course, we can’t let our fair host be left at the hands of... grimy witches like these two bimbos...” Beaming a triumphant grin and a head raised ever upwards in glory, Vincent cracked open the entrance to his room. It was a mess of thrown piles of clothing and a smashed mirror. He immediately slammed the door shut. “Uh,” the deprived man began to try excusing the aftermath of his recent emotional hurricane, “this is just an experimental style of interior design.”

 

[egghead]

The pathetic display of asskissery was painful to watch. At least until the bootlicker in question unintentionally revealed his true self. Underneath that puffed out chest was a heart that shattered at the slightest touch.

A grin spread across Rachel’s freckled cheeks. “Why so embarrassed, Vinny? That room is perfect for you two.”

As much as she wanted to stick around and watch the show, there were more important things to do. With the host out of commission, it was the perfect time to run around unsupervised.

Sliding an arm around Katrinne’s, she escorted the she-devil down the corridor. “Let those idiots deal with that mess,” she snickered. “We have some digging to do.”

Glen watched the girls leave and let out a sigh of relief. The tension in the air seemed to dissipate a little, but not enough to lift the weight off his shoulders. And definitely not enough to lift the weight in his arms.

He looked to Vincent. “A little help?”

 

[Taelonthesands]

It hadn't taken long for Saoirse to turn on the luxurious bath in her room, steam fogging up the mirror and slowing filtering through the air. She was quick to strip herself of her wet clothes and sink into the water, a long sigh of relief as she lets the feeling of warmth overtake her. She lies back against the porcelain of the tub, shaking her shoulders at the slight contrast in heat, but she smiles. Saoirse never had something like this at home, just a broken cold running shower that came with the containment of her bedroom, this was a dream compared to that torture. She reaches for the soap and begins scrubbing herself and her hair clean, the smell just like the flowers outside of the church she used to adore when she was a child. Sweet, but earthy.

Although others would take the time to savor the moment, Saoirse was done almost as quickly as she had started. Only a few minutes had gone by, but she was aching to see what was inside that wardrobe just in the other section of the hotel room. If she was lucky, and she had almost one hundred percent a hunch, that the stars would provide her with new clothes there. So, with towel wrapped snuggly around her, she lets the tub drain and opens the bathroom door back into the bedroom area. She practically skips over to the wardrobe.

Ripping open the doors, Saoirse gasps and squeals loudly, small tears forming at the lids of her eyes at the sight of the inside. It was like someone had crafted an entire line of clothing for what she could only assume was her. She felt the fabrics, the weight in her fingers reminding her of that of the old rich woman that would always donate the big numbers to the church and pray in front of Saoirse for her to heal. She lets out a loud laugh of joy, pulling out the first couple of dresses that catch her eye, spinning in a circle to allow the fabric to fly around. It was the stars, Saoirse was sure of it now. Who knew that after all this time, they truly were her savior?

It takes her a few minutes to choose, but eventually, Saoirse fits herself into a long a-line black dress with a sheer cream capelet placed on top and finally some fresh boots that she had found at the bottom. She may have thought about putting on the fancy heels, but the dress hid the boots and she preferred being able to move quickly over anything.

Taking one more look in the mirror beside the wardrobe, Saoirse gives a childish pose with glee. She looked like an aristocrat from a soap opera and she only hoped that the other guests at the dinner would be dressing the same. After all, that's why she chose this look. The host mentioned a nice dinner and with a place like this, those who wouldn't dress their best would probably just be embarrassed. Saoirse knows that she'd definitely not feel great if she came to dinner in her still drying clothes.

She poses a few more times, allowing time to drift by until finally, she feels herself growing bored. The host never told the girl that she couldn't explore before dinner and she technically knew that if she got lost she could always ask the stars for help. So, Saoirse snuck out of her room and her way down the corridor leading away from the others without her knowledge.

 

[buzz]

The sight of his former tormentors frolicking away made him feign puking, until he realized the only audience he had was a half-dead man in too-tight tights. The girls back home would’ve laughed and dropped a few jibes, he told himself, but there was no clique to reinforce his ego here. Just a couple spiders.

He groaned, slapping his thighs wipe the grime from his palms. “I’m literally an injured man, you horrible human being! But fine,” he swung the door to his room open hard enough for it to get stuck in its position at the other end of its hinge. Whether the door would ever close again was a worry for later times.

Vincent tried to find the best position that didn’t involve a flailing hand in his face. “Oh, don’t touch me, keep your arm on that side!” After a couple bouts of whining and nitpicking, he was able to help lug the handsome almost-corpse to his bed. “Phew!” He swept the dark hair from his face and flicked a couple beads of sweat off in the process. “Never doing that again. Alright, get out, whatever-your-name-is.”

•

“Oh!” It’d been a while since she had such girlish fun, swinging down the hall like friends in the garden. If her memory served her at all, the aging woman could remember doing so in her days of humanity, when she was just a girl in the middle of nowhere. It’d bring a tear to her eye if she prized those days. Luckily, she much preferred her solitary days of demonhood.

“Digging? For what?” The halls seemed to go on forever and, even though they’d only been away for a bit, Katrinne was already unfamiliar with the changing map. “Do you know where we’re going?”

Her lashes fell, hiding embarrassed eyes, “Ah, sorry, I’m asking too many questions. It seems I already forgot how to have fun, ha ha!”

 

[Axeykins]

Like a spider's web he could feel the activity all around him as the guests moved about. Two in the room, two running off and one...the new one venturing off boldly on her own. He felt it itching at him, digging into a deep urge from the inside and worming its way out until his dual colored eyes popped open again. Forced back awake before he was ready.

Twiddling his fingers to get a grasp on what was near him. He squinted through blurred vision at the two in the room with him. His body felt as if it were made out of lead. Near impossible to move in any meaningful way. Clenching and unclenching his fists he tried so hard to move and bend the halls to his will. Turn the wanderer around towards their direction but knew it was a failure. All he managed was distorted walls crunched in walls and hallways they bent in senseless directions.

"wh...where am i?" His voice was breathy and strained. "where's....the new..guest?"

egghead buzz Taelonthesands

 

[egghead]

Rachel’s gaze lingered on the walls, the way they bended and twisted right before them. “Yeah, that’s right,” she hummed. “Just go with the flow.”

Her grip on the other woman’s arm tightened subconsciously. “This place changed since that man took over,” she indulged, her tone poisoned by hatred. “We’re looking for a weakness. You know, something to take him down.”

She looked into her captive’s eyes, pinning her with a glare. “Let’s check the ballroom.”

—

The ex-zombie struggled to speak. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. “She’s...I’m not sure.”

He shook his head. “That doesn’t matter now.”

Despite the nagging feeling telling him not to, his hand reached out and brushed aside a stray lock of silver hair. No matter what, the memory of an old friend couldn’t be erased. “You need to rest.”

 

[buzz]

If Vincent wasn't awkwardly stiff before, he definitely was now. His pencil-like posture did well to illustrate how detached and uncomfortable he was with the scene. White, perfectly shaped teeth ground against each other like furious pistons in motion. If he was any angrier, surely sparks would fly out from between his lips. Instead, a screeching whine erupted, "I said GET OUT, stinkbug!" He gripped the man hovering over his bed and swept him aside with a forceful one-handed shove. "Mr. Host, I saved you! Does this mean I can leave?"

•

Now that there wasn't anyone around to jeer at her relative humanity, the she-devil finally let the tangled emotional worms in her stomach spill. "Rachel," she spoke as if pleading, like a child insisting on a toy, "do you really think we should hurt him? He's possessed, I swear! It's not Sisceal but, if we hurt him, it'll just hurt Sisceal." Her body moved with each phrase, forming near-jumping motions as she expressed her frustration with every limb. Still, her movements betrayed her protests, as she strode in perfect sync toward wherever her companion led. "Maybe we could appeal to the real Sisceal, he must be in there somewhere! Like, exorcising a demon, right?!"

 

[egghead]

Their casual stroll crashed to an instant halt. Rachel wrenched her arm away, recoiling as if she had touched a squirming maggot. Her smile had vanished. In its place was a scowl that twisted her face into a disfigured crumple.

“The real Sisceal?” She spat out the words. A hand reached up, brushing the necklace of bruises clasping her throat.

Rachel’s temper flared, lighting blossoms on her freckled cheeks. “What happened back there,” she began in a shaky voice, “seemed pretty real to me.”

Dropping her hand, she brushed past Katrinne and headed further down the hallway. Clearly, the redhead didn’t care whether she followed or not. “It doesn’t matter who he is or who he isn’t,” she stated without looking back. “He’s going to pay.”

 

[Taelonthesands]

Pushing open grandeur wooden doors took a small breath out of Saoirse as she finally found one of the entrance doors to what she assumed was the ballroom. After all, the room inside was a glow in the light and more vast than any place inside somewhere had ever been. Well, aside from the indoor bouncy castle place that she got her family kicked out of. It wasn't her fault that there wasn't a safety strap at the top. Plus the stars patched her up just fine. This though, was just another page in a dream, a memory of a children's movie filling her mind. This was paradise, this was a place she never wanted to leave ever.

"Hello?" She softly calls out, careful not to disturb anyone despite no one being around.

Without a response in return, the young woman sauntered nervously inside, a small excitement slowly bubbling in her chest. Her hand brushes against a table as she passes through the mass of them spread about one side of the ballroom. All empty, but mysteriously set as if the workers here knew in advance that dinner would be provided soon. It was almost too eerie, and if it were anyone else, certainly they would have been alarmed. But not Saoirse, the last thing she was going to do is look a gift horse in the mouth. She begged for the help of the stars, and this was their hard work.

Not sure what to do, she continues to wander over to where unused instruments sit idle, curious as to which of them work. Not ready to sit and wait just yet.

 

[buzz]

The shift in mood was enough to send a couple pangs of regret through Katrinne’s shuddering self, who only just remembered what transpired not too long ago. Her own forgetfulness disgusted her. “Oh, Rachel, I’m sorry.”

She reached quite the quagmire in her head; could she continue justifying a man who was not a man at all, but rather completely a creature of the Hotel?

With a swish of long dark locks, she glanced at the direction they came from, as if someone was watching. Then, she hurried to follow the red-haired prime victim of the new Host’s torments, bearing the hope she could somehow prove his innocence. “Please wait! I’ll accompany you!”

 

[egghead]

The ballroom doors swung open so hard that they nearly flung off the hinges. In the entranceway stood a very pissed off Rachel. She hadn’t expected an audience, so when she realized that the chamber wasn’t empty, her rage dissolved.

She squinted at the girl, not entirely sure if she was real or not. In a place like this, you couldn’t trust anything or anyone. Not even your own eyes.

Like a shark stalking its prey, she approached the new guest. “Now there’s a face I haven’t seen before,” she grinned. “You lost, sweetheart?”

 

[Taelonthesands]

The sound of keys abruptly chiming filled the air of the ballroom as Saoirse smashed her palms against them in shock. Her heart palpitated inside her chest, a wave of pins and needles running through her body in alarm. She took a moment to recollected herself as she realized the person before her, was in fact just another person. She mentally slapped herself, of course it was another person, this was a bloody hotel after all. Why wouldn't someone make an appearance in what was probably the largest room of this establishment and clearly where it was set up for people to dine in. She really needed to start getting it together. She was a grown-up, she needed to act like one.

"U-Um, no," what an unbelievably great start, "No, I actually arrived not too long ago here. I was just wandering around and realized this is actually where I needed to be...I think?"

She brought her arms up to the chest, crossing them protectively as she stayed in place, the presence of the other woman definitely feeling like a threat.

"I'm Saoirse, are you another guest here?"

egghead

 

[buzz]

She definitely heard it before she saw it, the echo of clattering wood traveling farther than it should. The guise of lived-in decor did little to mask the overwhelming emptiness of the Hotel and this was best felt by the demon when she stepped into the ballroom entranceway. The girl standing there, collapsing in on herself at the sight of a raging red-haired bull, spoke as softly as humanly possible but Katrinne heard every syllable. She looked like she belonged here—her dress, the brownish locks roping elegantly atop her shoulders. But, at the same time, the long-time guest knew the naif was not yet as beastly as the rest of the guests have become. At least, that’s what she assumed.


“She’s obviously here for the dinner party!” Shuffling to the newcomer’s side whilst unsuccessfully attempting to move in an elegantly unassuming stride, the siren couldn’t help but feel a bit aged next to the supple-skinned girl.
“Excuse my friend, she’s become...a bit moody lately. I’m Katrinne, nice to meet you, Ms. Saoirse!”

 

[Axeykins]

"No. I need to work. To ensure they don't wander into the wrong places so soon" His face contorted into a snarl as he attempted to move but nothing came of it. His eyes rolling lazily between the two neanderthals trying to take care of him. If one could even call it that.

"You're not leaving until I say so. None of you are. I don't give a damn if ya saved me or not. It doesn't matter, you're all just sniveling little worms to me at this point. Nothing but something I found interesting." He huffed. All he could use was words to try and intimidate but had to chose them carefully too...these two looked and acted spineless but he knew very well that even the most pathetic when pushed to their limits will snap. Snap badly and end you right then and there given the opportunity. And boy what an opportunity there was right now.

 

[egghead]

A long sigh squeezed out of shrivelled lungs. Glen’s shoes crunched against shattered glass as he limped over to the door. It was the furthest away he could get from the hotelier without leaving the room, not to mention an easy escape route in case there was another tantrum.

Before he shuffled past, he smiled weakly at Vincent. The lines in his face deepened with the effort. “He’s all yours, nurse.”

—

“A guest?” Rachel scoffed, a smirk dragging her red lips like roadkill. “Yeah, that’s it.”

She briefly turned away, scrutinizing what looked to be the bare essentials of a dinner party. A throbbing urge to smash and tear apart Sisceal’s handiwork simmered, but she pushed it back down. First impressions were everything.

Her head whipped around so fast that it nearly snapped right off. “Who said anything about moody?”

Wearing a polite disguise, the redhead curtsied. “Enchantée, moi je m’appelle Rachel.” Smiling, she added. “You can just call me Rae.”

 

[buzz]

“Who are YOU calling a worm?!”

He crossed his arms, eyebrows diving into each other as they furrowed cartoonishly. “We get it, you’re the host, you gotta do blah blah blah!” A pointed finger nearly plunged into the bedridden man’s forehead but stopped ever so slightly beforehand. Even in a puerile rage, the tailored man was not unaware of the de facto rules, and he’d seen enough to not forget them.

“You can’t stop me from leaving. Where are the keys?” In a fit of greed, his clammy hands began patting and grabbing at random parts on the Host’s body; clearly, any and all limits were forgotten now.

“Where are they?! I’m leaving, buddy, and you can’t stop me!“ Lines of sweat zigzagged the temples of his face, once meticulously brushed tresses now stuck on slick skin. He looked mad, a man of tumultuous emotion, whose overbearing show of affection was exchanged easily in hopes of a depraved albeit quick getaway.

 

[Axeykins]

"I swear te God if I could strangle you right now by any means necessary I would." He glared at Vincent. Wholly unable to move a single inch as he received an impromptu pat down. "I'm not tellin ya where they are. I can't just tell ya where they are. You know that's not how it works" He spat. His glare at the man completely unwavering. "It's my job to keep em safe as much as it's my job to make sure you worms are in line."

He huffed. Fighting through heavy eyelids to remain conscious. He only had to fight it long enough for his body to heal back to a state where he didn't feel the need to sleep to heal. "You awfully bold searchin me down like this you know? Or are ya only bold seeing as I can't move. Ya ran like a coward with your tail between your legs last I saw ya."

 

[egghead]

A hand jutted out and seized Vincent by the arm. As much as he hated confrontations, Glen didn’t have any choice but to intervene. He yanked the beast off of his prey, hard enough to rip his suit sleeve at the seam.

“Hey, stop that,” he cried, mortified. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

It wasn’t justice or a heart full of love or anything that drove him to break up the fight. He did it because his own ass was on the line. If this idiot managed to push the host over the edge with his idiotic antics, it would be him on the receiving end of Sisceal’s wrath.

“Leave him alone,” he warned, still gripping the man’s wrist. “You’re only making it worse. For all of us.” Glen added emphasis on the last part, hoping that his fellow guest understood the underlying meaning.

 

[buzz]

He pulled his arm away, an egregiously exaggerated snatch to emphasize the sheer intensity of his antipathy, especially when it came to touching a sweaty bellboy. The gesture clearly drove a dent in the manicured man’s pride. “Oh, you kiss-ass! Geez, you’re really gonna feel bad for THAT?” He spat out a laugh in disbelief. “I could kill him right now if I wanted to. You could, too. Then, we’d be outta here, worms-for-brains!” He shook his head and, in the motion, his torn sleeve slumped down to his wrist. The sight sent boiling blood up his spine. He screamed, ripping it from his arm and launching it towards the Host in bed. “Fine, fine! There you go, your highness! What do you want me to do, Ben? Don a waiter’s suit and serve him like you do? Is that how you plan on escaping?”

 

[egghead]

That was it. The last straw. Everything went as red as the stupid tiny hat sitting on his head.

That same hand, now squeezed into a tight knot, raised high. Spittle flew out of Glen’s mouth as he screamed in the other man’s face. “My name’s...not...Ben!”

He brought down his fist with an almost inhuman speed. The punch landed between Vincent’s eyes with a sickening crack that bounced off every surface in the room.

 

[Axeykins]

Sisceal stared in shock and annoyance at the display. One discussing outright killing him. One discussing helping him. It pissed him off hearing them talking about his fate in his own home. Digging up a deep anger and frustration only made worse in his current condition. He couldn't even prove them wrong. Only lay there listening to them figure out his fate and what to do with him. the longer he bared witness to it the more his stomach churned sickeningly. And twistng every last inch of the hotel around with it. The elegant wall paper changing to a simply decorated stucco and stone walls and arches. Soft glow of a candle illuminating the walls orange and yellow. "Will you two just. Shut. Up!" He growled. Digging his fingers into the sheets of the bed warped into a simplistic frame and wool sheets, bland white and grey. Walls creaked as gorgeous stained glass windows forced themselves into the walls. Figures distorted and mismatched to near unrecognizable shapes. Blackened twisted blotches where once beautiful faces shone.
Same was the case for the various odd paintings that generally decorated the wall. Every place and figure took a more familiar shape burned too horribly to truly tell what it once was.

egghead buzz Taelonthesands

 

[buzz]

Shutting up was just what Vincent did. He fell to the floor, a knock on wood signifying the collision of skull and floorboard. His arms crumpled up in shock, eyes rolling behind eyelids, his shriveled body now resembling a dead cockroach more than a man. With the main source of chatter fast asleep, there finally came a peaceful quiet. A steady stream of crimson seeped from his nose.