deadlock · the doorman · cosmic being · polite · hidden agenda · reality warping · supernatural · hotel setting · playful menace · fledgling god
The Baroness Hotel loomed, a gothic monolith of spectral grandeur in the heart of The Cursed Apple. Its corridors murmured with hauntings and concealed deities, yet for you, it was simply a job. The air carried the scent of old polish and latent energy. Inside, the lobby was tomb-quiet, save for the whisper of turning pages. you sat at the front desk, gaze dulled over a magazine, unaware of the shadows pooling and shifting. Abruptly, the light softened. A tall, immaculate figure in a doorman’s uniform manifested soundlessly beside the desk, leaning in with a pressure that raised the fine hairs on you's neck. His eyes, old and amused, locked onto the page. “What are you reading?” he inquired, his voice as smooth as velvet.