Verano Hotel

Part one / The Shaft

Luke Wolfe (pov)

I wake up in a room and gasp for air. I know I'm breathing but I don't feel it in my lungs. The air is thin and humid. I look around me and see four, metal walls staring at me. Poles hold up the ceiling where sparking wires are hanging. Rags are lined at the floor where my feet are. My feet are stinky like a pig or a goat at a farm. They have an unpleasant smell that fills the room. It's so bad I feel like I can see it. Normally I'd think it's brown or green, but it's blue. A light pastel blue. Like the skies. I remember the skies. My sister loved painting the skies. Suddenly the metal room starts moving up towards unknown. Like an elevator. It must be some kind of shaft. I think. For hours upon end it moves up. I feel like my life was always here. The only thing I remember was Dakota. Not the place. A person. A friend. She feels more like a bliss memory. Quaint like mist but there like a rainbow.

I feel the floor pushing up into me and my body feels almost as if it's phasing into it. I hear chattering through the walls. All I can distinguish is 'Where is the rice?' and 'Can you hold this?'. Then the shaft is put to a halt. My body has gotten so used to the feeling of pressure and the sudden change makes me feel queasy instead of reassured. In front of me was the door out. I didn't know what was behind it or  if I'd be welcome or not but I opened it anyway.

“Hello sir. I'm sure you're a bit nauseous after that.” A man says. He's wearing a dark brown ragged tuxedo with a white tie. It looks like plastic though. I'd ask why but I have more important questions.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask.

“What a fine question. You deserve answers but I shouldn't overwhelm you.”

“I want to know.”

“If you insist,” he says, “I'm taking you to your room. This is The Verano Hotel. Verano means 'Summer' which Is a bit ironic since this is a bunker. It's named after the family.” He says and follows with a sigh. “The Veranos love their hotel.”

“This is a bunker?”

“Yes. After being bombed, we resorted to our bunkers,” he paused, “so we don't die.”

“We were bombed?” I ask.

“The whole world, yes.”

“Wait what?”

“Look, I can answer all your questions later, but right now you need rest.” He takes me into my room and locks me in.

“Wait! Will I have to pay for this room?” I yell but the only thing I hear is myself.

“Dammit. I'll probably be used for free labor,” I whisper to myself,

“I'm so gonna sue these freaks. I mean, obviously it's some kind of prank. The whole world couldn't have been bombed unless some psychopath did it. I don't even know if we have enough bombs for that.”

“It was the k'vak.” I looked left and right, but saw no one. Then the curtain in front of me slid to the side and I saw her. She was slightly shorter than me, even with her DC shoes with thick soles. She wore a black beanie, a black and blue Nike hoodie with the hint of red, and she wore black jeans. The hoodie had paint all over it which looked cool, but it had the smell of untasteful chemicals. 

“The k'vak?”

“They are from the outer realm.”

“You mean space? Like, these are aliens?”

“We don’t call them that. Just k'vak.”

“Why not?”

“They don’t like it.” She said in a stern voice.