The Girl in Suite 777• Five Hargreeves

Oo1| How odd.

Unedited
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CHET WAS IN A MOOD...you hated it when Chet was in a mood, he would throw his own equivalent of a hissy fit. Refusing to feed the lobsters, greet the new guests or even walk his wretched dog. That ugly thing would sit there, staring at you with those sullen eyes, begging — pleading, to be taken on a walk.

You hated that dog, but, alas, you had to do it, if you didn't it would only put Chet in a worse mood. As you stood at the front desk of the hotel, your eyes focused on the dog, as it's short tail wagged back and forth, mouth agape and tongue hanging.

Ugh... what was it so happy for?

"Your owner is getting on my nerves," you whispered harshly, and it groaned, as if it understood you as if it was laughing at you. Knowing that Chet would never taken his anger out on it, rather you had to pick up his slack because no one else would.

Despite the incompetence of the front desk receptionist, Hotel Obsidian ran smoothly. Sunlight drenched the lobby through the blue windows, the chandelier you had been forced to polish hanged perfectly at the center of the room, in a dim yellow glow. The visitors went about their day as usual, some lingering around the buffet and the back, others taking a stroll around the hallways, exploring the never ending walls.

We take every kind, war generals, expensive women in fake fur hats and real shark-skin heels carrying small purse dogs roaming about their suit. Strange men in... was that man wearing a dirty cowboy hat? Now this was a strange bunch. And in this hotel? That was saying something.

They came in, six in total, with the man who looked like the black parade, but cowboy... leading. Leaping about the halls in content excitement, singing it's praises. "... back in her hay days, she played host to world leaders— Roosevelt, Gandhi, Stalin, Castro, King Olaf of Norway, One of the Kim Jongs, Tito, Dalai Lama, Elvis — And, not one, but two Kardashians, allegedly."

His friends didn't seem all that impressed by the list of names, which, was mostly accurate, although in your time here you sadly have to admit that you've only encountered one Kardashian. A shame really, on the long list of celebrities, they were certainly... on that list, you supposed.

The oddly dressed man continued to sing praises of the hotel, sadly enough, you didn't recognize him. He must have heard about it, you knew every guest here, save for the temporary ones who would shuffle in during the dark of night. Mostly, stormy ones, wearing ominous black leather coats and pawning away their expensive watches and necklaces for only one room and a day's stay. You never told them that it wasn't worth losing their Diamond bracelet, but, you rather liked diamonds, so, with a smile you handed them a room key and in the morning, watched as they shuffled out awkwardly... never to be seen again. A shame really, you would think, gazing down at your wrist adorned with diamonds and smile.

Chet would always give you grief about scamming the customers, however, was it really scamming if they willingly gave it to you? You like to think not.

"C'mon," urged the man in the hat, as they dragged their heavily bruised bodies all dressed in black clothes covered in dirt and grime and blood. Certainly not the oddest of guests, but questionable nonetheless.

You knew Chet was sulking in the back and would not be coming to greet the new guests. So with a heavy sigh, you pushed off the sleek counter and straightened your posture, looking as five of them made made their way towards you.

Ding!

You cringed, did he have to ring the bell? You were right there. You reached your nearly manicured hand, nails painted the same shade of red that seeped from the big one's forehead and tapped gently on the bell until the ringing stopped.