ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ɪɴᴋ || ʜᴀᴢʙɪɴ ʜᴏᴛᴇʟ

THE HAPPY HOTEL

The Happy Hotel didn't seem very Happy. In fact, it seemed. . . very. . . Well, Mel didn't have the words to describe it, but it was certainly not happy. It looked very beaten down, with a broken carousel sitting on it and a pirate ship sticking out of it from one side, and numerous large spider webs stretching from one side of the building to the other; the whole building seemed a bit decrepit and. . . unlivable.

That fact was secured as Mel watched one of the blinking arrow signs on the building burst, sending an explosion of fiery sparks everywhere before the entire sign toppled to the ground, the painful sound of glass shattering piercing the air.

"Al. . . this place is ah disaster," Mel stated, as she looked at the sparking, damaged sign laying on the ground beside the Hotel. What did he want with a place like this? It was barely standing.

Alastor merely hummed in reply, his head tilted, and his blood-red eyes narrowed at the sparking sign; he didn't seem very happy either.

"Why are we real-" Before the sentence could even pass Mel's lips, Alastor clamped a hand over her mouth, his eyes locked on something ahead.

A hundred years ago, Mel might've been upset about what Alastor had done, but now? She followed his gaze, and her head tilted as she spotted a very familiar figure leaving the Hotel, her blonde hair swishing as she walked a bit away from the building, a phone pressed to her ear.

"Hey, mom." Charlotte Morningstar sighed, not noticing the two figures a little way away from her, watching. "I know I keep calling, and you must be busy. . . really busy. . . but, um, the interview didn't go well."

Mel watched, feeling a pang of sadness in her dark, inky heart for the Princess as she watched her shrink down onto her knees, tears welling up in her yellow and red eyes.

"And. . . I don't know if I'm ever going to make a difference." The Princess sniffled as she tried to wipe away her own tears. "I don't know what I'm doing. I could really use some advice, Mom. I think. . . I. . . I think Dad was right about me. . . ah, anyway. . . I'll stop talking before this gets long. I love you. Bye."

The two demons watched as the blonde-haired Princess slowly got to her feet, her head drooping low as she entered the Hotel once again, the stained-glass door shutting behind her.

"Interesting. . ." Alastor stated, tilting his head, a wicked smile on his face.

Mel had a horrible feeling that the Princess might be in trouble if the evil smirk on Alastor's face was anything to go by.

But before she could put any more thought into what he might be planning with her, Alastor tugged her close as he began to melt into the shadows, pulling Mel along with him as he used the shadows to pop up right in front of the Hotel doors.

"Ya know, I hate that." Mel hissed at Alastor as she shuddered violently; Alastor forcing her to travel by his shadow was always horrible; there was something about them that was deeply unsettling, something that sent chills down her spine, and this was speaking from someone who was composed of ink and darkness.

Alastor merely smirked at her, deeply amused by his little ink demon's behavior. It wasn't easy to rile her up like this, so he relished in her agitation and annoyance before he lifted his hand and knocked a loud, rhythmic knock on the wooden door of the Hotel.

Mel was examining the stained-glass windows, trying to get over the strangeness of traveling through Alastor's shadow, when one of the doors swung open, revealing the Princess.

"HELL-"

The door slammed shut in Alastor's face, causing one of his eyes to twitch in annoyance.

Mel was slightly startled; no one had ever slammed the door shut in Al's face, and no one had the guts to do so. She was grateful that it hadn't been her because she doubted that she would've been able to control her full demon form the way Al could. A hundred years had given her a bit more control over that part of her, but she was nowhere near having total control. . . yet.