¿ɪꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴀʟ? ✰𝔸𝕝𝕖𝕩 𝕋𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕣 𝟙-𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤

🂱

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Now, you couldn't remember the time you got in this place. Not even how you got here. No clue of the day you arrived. One thing that you could remember was that is place was a place you didn't want to stay. That is the reason why you are where you are at now. Tousled hair, old and new wounds on your sickly yellow flesh. The way you looked was extremely contradicting the very well built architecture of this... hotel?

You recalled your first night here. Appearing in the lobby with a bursting headache and talking to the man at the reception desk whose name was Mark. Was it? Yes, it was. He was a friendly guy, but something about him just sent shivers down your spine. Maybe it was the way his cold gaze watched your every move when you were near. Maybe it was the way you knew he was watching in the cameras. Maybe it was the way he knew something you didn't.

Leaving your room at night was prohibited except if your going to the bar or casino. Other than that, stay in your room. What a dumb rule. Anyways, you went out and explored. Didn't find much, other than the lack of people and another headache pounding your head. About these headaches, Mark told you to take pills. Special pills that you can find from him or any worker here.

So you took them and you felt better than ever. No more headaches or any pain! So the time came and you got your stuff and went down to the reception desk to check out.

"You're not checking out."

Those were the last words Mark has spoken to you before you never saw him again. You stopped taking the pills in fright and slowly discovered that those weren't normal pills. If anything, they were beyond normal. The people you saw at night weren't there anymore. They never were there to begin with. The pills made you hallucinate them.

Every day, you stayed locked in your room. You didn't eat in fear that it was drugged. You only went out in the night to find ways to escape. Your hopes of leaving this place started to diminish when night after night, you found no escape.

Slowly, things started disappearing from the room you were staying at. No phone, no lights, no water, even no shoes. It seems Mark wanted to make sure you stayed in this hotel. He went as far as to place things in your way to injure you. Broken pieces of glass in the way of your path and pins on the wall for when you held onto it for support.

You walked around the place with bloody feet leaving a path of dry and fresh blood behind you. No doubt Mark was laughing at your misery.

Each corner you turned and each room you entered looked the same as every other room. It was driving you crazy. You could feel your sanity drift away day after day in this building. He tormented you by playing the same songs over and over again in the speakers. You'd know all the lyrics by now.

You held a promise to yourself; make it out of this place, dead or alive. It seems today you would have to break your own promise. You slumped down on the floor with your back against the wall. You stayed there looking at your bloodied feet with makeshift fabric tied around them as makeshift bandages. Your tears had dried along with the sweat that was on your face. You heard steps coming towards you slowly, the strike of the boots heel being a pain for you to hear.

A sickly sweet voice rang through the hallway, "So who you gonna call?" The voice stopped singing and leaned down next to your slumped form and waited for you response.

"...The martini police."

"Yes!" Mark clapped cheerfully, "The Martini Police!" He grabbed your arm and dragged you to God knows where.

The carpet burned against your skin and you tried to struggle against his force. He only pulled along you even more and with a quicker pace to cause more abrasions on your skin.

He started to talk in a quiet and serious tone, "You say you don't know me right? Well it's about time you do. I promise you, it'll all make sense when you see it for yourself."

𐬺𖦹꧁🂱꧂𖦹𐬺

He picked you once he made it to a dark room with a bunch of computers and sat you down quite harshly on a chair. From your place, you could see every thing the computer showed. Without any words, he clicked something on a remote and every single screen showed clips of him, other people you've seen in the hotel, and... you?

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Note: This is a hint for the new story.