|american horror story imagines|

|made of art • james march|

someone said to do james, so here i am :)

make sure to request if you would like one!!! my brain is running out of ideas

•••

God, it smelled terrible in here.

I have no clue as to what death smells like, but I'm sure it's what this hotel reeks of.

I had just moved to Los Angeles, flying in only just this morning. I needed a change in my life. A new atmosphere. And this was exactly where I needed to be.

I didn't have a set plan, but I did have left over money to last me at least a month or two. I knew living in California would not be the cheapest, but I was willing to find a job and save up enough money for an apartment at least.

But for now, I would have to settle for the Hotel Cortez.

Walking up to the front desk, I approached an older woman. She looked as if she was stuck in the 90's with her thick lensed glasses and clothing attire.

"Hello." I smiled. "I'm (Y/n), I believe I am booked for room 64."

The woman's eyes studied me, almost as if she was searching for anything to use against me. She paused for a moment, sighing, and then finally she grinned.

"Ah, yes. 64." She spoke slowly. The woman tapped her chin before grabbing a key that was hanging in rows behind her.

"The room is going under maintenance right now. It's far too dangerous for a sweet, young lady like you to be staying there."

I could tell there was a hidden meaning behind her words, but I quickly shrugged it off. If I were to stay here for a while, I must at least try to be comfortable.

"That's fine. Thank you." I replied kindly, hastily grabbing the key and heading towards the elevator.

Rolling my suitcase down the carpet floor, I heard two voices whispering behind me. I wasn't sure if it was just in my head, but I slowed down, hoping to hear what they were saying.

"Isn't she supposed to be in 64?" A stranger spoke.

"No, no, no. She seems too good and doesn't deserve to die from that druggie, or whatever monster lurks there." The receptionist responded sternly.

"And yet you gave her the key to 78? She is walking into something much more deadly than 64!" The stranger whispered with agitation.

"Because she can help him. I know she can."

This time I could hear her words loud and clear.

I sighed to myself as the doors to the elevator opened and I walked inside. There was no way I had just heard that.

What did they mean by dangerous? Could it just be a prank maybe? If anything does happen, then I can just ask for another room. It will be fine. Right?

"Right." I spoke to myself, feeling the elevator go up to the seventh floor.

A ding echoed eerily into the dark hall as the doors opened once more. I froze immediately, my eyes adjusting to the dim lighting.

It was too quiet for anyone to be staying here. Maybe I had gotten the floor wrong?

Stepping out, I held onto my suitcase handle tighter. There had to be a worker that could help me at least.

As I quietly moved down the hall, I noticed a maid standing next to her cart. She was folding a sheet that seemed to be very stained, but she continued smiling and humming to herself.

"Excuse me." I spoke, walking forward. "I'm not sure if I am on the right floor. I'm supposed to be staying in room 78, do you know where that is?"

The maid froze, a frown forming onto her pale face. She placed the sheet onto her cart and then faced me.

"R-Room 78?" She stuttered, almost frightened of what I had just said. "It's just down the hall. But why would you be staying there? It's reserved for the owner, and the owner only."

I widened my eyes, tension filling the dingy space of the hall. I nodded my head slowly before giving her a small smile and walking away.

She muttered something to herself, but I didn't want to hear it. There was a lot of strange things happening during the small amount of time that I had been here.

"Room 75, 76, 77. Room 78." I whispered softly to myself.

Placing the key into the door, I unlocked it and stepped inside. Immediately, the smell of cigars and musk filled my senses.

Seriously? Why did this place have to smell terrible everywhere I go?

Closing the door, I hesitantly walked deeper into the room. I heard the quiet buzz of a record playing, an odd shiver going up my spine at the sound of it.

"Is someone in here?" I questioned.

"Ah." An accented voice exclaimed, startling me. "Now what pleasure do I owe this certain occasion, of meeting such a very beautiful lady?"

Out walked a tall and handsome man. His aura screamed deadly and dangerous. It was almost as if he was from a 20's black and white movie, his cinematic smirk and glimmering brown eyes drawing me into him.

I had no idea what to do. He was most definitely a guest here, but why would the woman downstairs give me the key to his room?

"I am so sorry to barge in. The receptionist gave me the key for this room, she must have made a mistake." I hurriedly replied.

Instead of actually leaving, my foolishness had caught ahold of me and I stood there. The stranger peered at me with questioning eyes, waiting for me to either run or stay put.

His smirk morphed into a cheshire grin. He walked towards me menacingly, as if I were the prey for his hunt.

My breath caught in my throat as he stopped only a few inches from my frozen body. The scent of his cologne surrounding us, making me almost fall under his gaze.

"No need to be frightened, dear. It is only I." He whispered, bringing a large hand to trace my cheekbone.

His touch was soft and soothing. I should not be letting this man close to me in this way, but here I was, lost in a trance of euphoria.

"Now..." He spoke, wrapping a possessive arm around my waist.

"We must discuss your arrangements in my hotel. I have decided that you shall no longer be a temporary guest here, but one that will be staying for eternity."