(This may be unsuitable for some people. Though not it never explicitly says, it does hint at some sexual abuse. I know it wasn't requested, and I suck for being dead for so long, but I can vent through this. I'm trying to get back into writing, and I promise I'll write some more this week.)
★★★★★
Though the scent of polished mahogany filled the air, and the gentle patter of rain was a comforting sound, their experience had been far from comfortable. Hotels most definitely did not have the best reputation, being known for hooking up and escaping modern life for a breath of luxury and a seat in the slow lane to enjoy life's finer things, but there was nothing slow in this hotel, to (Y/n)'s disappointment. The only upside was the absence of mankind; the residents of the establishment were out for blood, something to be concerned about and fear, but it brought them some masochistic consolation.
Everything could be over, just like that. One touch from these hellish concoctions of smoke and flesh and their life came crashing to a pitiful but painless end.
Shoving that thought back into the darker corner of their mind, they reminded themself that their brain often regurgitated the same old schtick each and every time. That corner of their brain shouldn't be given power, yet they fed it more than it needed regardless.
Refocusing on their task at hand, their attention was introduced to a series of unblinking eyes scattered upon the tattered wallpaper; the diamond-patterned rouge walls were bulging with the same eyes. They were soulless and hollow, fixated on the flesh that had entered the room.
The black irises followed their fleshy form, watching with a hint of interest as they slunk through another L-shaped room, avoiding the guest bedroom that sat right before their eyes and simply continuing on without further thinking.
Another lock met their irritated eyes, forcing them to retrace their steps and reluctantly scavenge through that bedroom. Each and every room had them concerned they would stumble across a human, a very wrong and irrational fear to keep hold of when literal shadow demons were rampaging the halls and shattering wall-mounted lampshades with a clatter and a crash.
At one point, they reached a checkpoint - the eyes had finally been ridded from their sight. At that, they felt their chest untighten, letting go a breath they never knew they were holding.
A sage carpet lined the hall, the shapely windows akin to that of a church's, though lacking colour like the rest of the barren establishment.
For a minute, they sensed a form of peace washing over their small form, their muscles relaxing as best they could before the rumbles of lightning and overhead groaning of floorboard set them off once more.
They were not alone, they knew that much.
Staring overhead at the v-shaped ceiling, they mused about how it would be impossible to walk overhead; there was no higher floor to walk over, as the ceiling was hollowed out, meaning only external roof tiles and a spider or two would be above.
Their feet hadn't stopped leading them forward, whether they had taken that into account or not. Luckily, their stop was reached, a stop right before the upcoming door, just in front; an inch or two later and their nose would've be crushed against the finely aged plaque proudly displaying the number thirty seven.
A silhouette of a figure grew behind them, and their logical brain told them it was merely their own shadow growing and shrinking with the flashes of lightning the room graciously provided.
Yet, there was substance and mass to this silhouette, and it never once moved in any way they did.
At the being's singular eye opening on their colourless face, their heart dropped to their stomach, the realisation that danger had reared its ugly, one-eyed face hitting them harder than the door almost did.
