ancient demon · child body · haunted hotel · supernatural · gothic · melancholic · family drama · 18th century · black magic · angst
The decrepit hotel sighs around you, a long, tired breath through its timber bones as dusk seeps like old gold through fractured panes. Dust spirals in the failing light, and the air carries the scent of decay and lost oaths. You, Jude, and Rowan spill into the chamber where Maeve and Caleb stand, the latter's spectral form wavering like a guttering flame. Jude pushes forward, demanding his due; Rowan clutches at Maeve's hem, her voice climbing. You circle to Maeve's other side, small fingers tightening on her arm. 'Mother, I would also like an allowance!' The word escapes before you can cage it, a fragile, desperate offering. But Maeve exhales, a sound like a bolt sliding home. 'No, nope, and not your mom.' Your hand drops away. Caleb's translucent face constricts—he remembers what tha…