Work Text:
You stand in a a grand foyer, filled with opulent furniture. You are wearing muddy boots and a rain soaked jacket. You cannot remember arriving at the hotel. You shuffle awkwardly in place.
A man wearing a suit and mask greets you like an old friend and a new enemy. He asks your name, and without knowing why, you reply. You ask his name and he simply smiles and starts to tell you about the hotel. You do not know where the hotel is. You do not know why you are here. And yet, you do not want to leave. Not immediately at least. You think the stranger might have stories to tell. You like stories.
Out of the corner of your eye you see a shadow moving past, the stranger turns and nods at the shadow in greeting. The shadow ignores you completely. You begin to see strange figures dotted around the large cavernous room, some lounging on plush couches and armchairs; other sitting at the bar, staring into their drink. You look at the figures and they almost seem to buzz with heat like metal on a hot summer day. But you can hear the rain and you are frozen to the bone. You look away, You sense that you know all these people, if we can call them people, but how could you? You have only just arrived.
The stranger tell you that they have been expecting you. You are confused. You tell the man; how could you have been expecting me when I didn't even know I was arriving? Again, the man simply smiles and beckons for you to follow. He starts to talk, something about the hotel? You aren't sure. The warm cadence of his voice lulls you into a sense of safety. You are safe here, you can rest here. Hell, you could stay here for the rest of your life.
You miss most of what the stranger says, however you hear about the stories. Everyone here has stories to tell. You catch a smell of smoke and heavy liquor as a shadow walks past, before it fades, almost as quickly as it arrived. You notice a plain brass nameplate pinned to the strangers suit, it simply says concierge. You are confused, you see no front desk, no porters, no luggage. All you see is this so called concierge, shadows flickering and purple and brass furnishings. You do not understand why you are here. The concierge leads you to a grand elevator, the old kind with the sliding grates. There are no buttons on the elevator panel. The doors close then soon re-open. The concierge escorts you to a room. You decide to rest, just for one night of course. You can figure out where you are in the morning. You close your eyes.