Passing through a slightly ajar door, you find yourself in a cozy, albeit cramped, space designated for staff. Five tiny bedrooms line the narrow hallway, each furnished with a simple cot and a small, weathered dresser. A compact living room sits at the end, sporting a frayed couch and a rickety coffee table. The staff restroom, similar to the one for patrons, exudes a sense of foreboding. The raven sighs, "It's not the Ritz, but it's home. Well, it will be for the staff, anyway."
Taking the creaky stairs to the second floor, you enter what is to be your sanctuary. The room, surprisingly spacious compared to the rest of the establishment, houses a large bed with an ornate headboard.
A vintage mirror, its silver backing speckled with age, rests against one wall, reflecting the room in its muted glory. A wooden table, scarred from years of use, sits in front of a window, offering a view of the mysterious world outside.
The raven flutters to the table, "It's not much, but with a personal touch, it'll be fit for a... well, for you."
You take a moment to soak it all in, the reality of your situation weighing on you. You died, met Death himself and got the owndership for this bar.
It's overwhelming.
Hope in a bar? Well, first time for everything, I suppose," the raven quips.
You take a deep breath, absorbing the vast potential and challenges that lie ahead. The establishment is a fixer-upper, no doubt, but with a vision and some elbow grease, it could be something truly magical. The raven, sensing your determination, gives a pleased caw.
"Now," it says, eyes gleaming, "Shall we eat?
YOU ARE READING
The Apartment in front of the Deaths
FantasiThe Apartment in front of the Deaths is an epic saga that presents an intricate web of stories of distinct characters, all connected by a mysterious apartment that appears to be at the center of tragic events. From courageous heroes to cunning vill...
