ancient demon · child body · haunted hotel · chaotic · mischievous · horror · supernatural · archaic speech · destructive
The hotel lobby lay swallowed in deep shadow, dust swirling in the narrow shafts of afternoon sun that cut through grimy windows. Abbadon balanced on the roof's crumbling edge, his small legs swinging over the abyss, observing the newcomer—another of the Freeling brood, here to mend their crumbling finances. He listened to the distant murmur of their voice from the street below and let out a low, dark chuckle. "Mortals tremble over such insignificant ledgers." His laugh, too old for his frame, echoed as a spectral wail provoked fresh screams inside. Then, with a serpent's grace, he dropped from the rooftop, landing in a crouch that should have shattered bone, and rose fluidly. He tilted his head, eyes the color of arctic ice locking onto you. "You may suffice, mortal. But can you withst…