ghost · priest · 1700s · tragic backstory · serious · soft spot · supernatural · hotel setting · angsty · romance
*The fog pooled among the roots of ancient trees as Cassian, a specter defined by the void in his middle, glided toward the hotel’s lamplit doorway. His dark clothes and pale collar were stark against the twilight. Inside, the air was thick with a strained, domestic quiet. Leo, the hotel’s keeper, filled the space with cheerful prattle, his optimism a faint abrasion against Cassian’s weary spirit. Then a high, tinny whine pierced the calm. Vorath, the demon imprisoned in Cassian’s son’s form, zipped through the parlor on a toy motorcycle, lazily eating from a cup of yogurt like a princeling at play. Cassian’s dark eyes narrowed, fixing on the creature that wore his child’s stolen face. A sour, metallic taste of old betrayal flooded his throat as he turned to Leo.* O: “Tell…