The volume of your tone alarmed quite a few people waiting at the elevator. The giant man took a step back, and signaled the other guests waiting at the elevator to stay calm, assuring them that there’s nothing to worry about. The receptionist stares at you for quite some time as you take small steps away from the front desk, backing out towards the door. The elevator opened, and the other guests slowly walked inside. As the elevator door closes, you rushed towards the exit, yet to your surprise, the giant man stand in your way, pushing you towards the receptionist once more. The receptionist, with her sharp, Asian eyes, stares at you. From your response, she laughed, and within seconds, her fangs dig deep in your neck. You passed out even before you can ask for help.
The next morning you woke up beside a trash bin, in a dark alleyway in the middle of New York City. Somehow you forgot how to go back home, or where your home even is. Guess this is where your life ends... or begins...
You stood up, staggering a few times at the attempt. Examining yourself, you see that you’re wearing somewhat bloodied clothing. Severe wounds, mainly stabs, are embedded deep on your neck; probably was done to kill you by severe hemorhhage. Your vision’s still somewhat blurring, but nonetheless, you’re fine. You tried to remember what you were supposedly doing in such a place, and as you dig deep in your pockets you find an envelope with an unknown address. You tried to ask people about the address, but not one wanted entertain your questions, seeing as you’re badly beaten out and bloodied.
The heat of the environment, the busy streets, endlessly flashing neon lighthing, Taylor Swift’s face on a giant screen; Swatch, Gucci, Prada, Burger King, Mcdonalds, KFC, Starbucks shops and advertisements are everywhere. It was driving you mad, literally.
You gave yourself some time to rest, and sat down on the cold pavement infront of a Newspaper stall. You ask the newspaper vendor what time it is. Irritatedly, he answered, “It’s 8:19”. You grabbed one of the newspapers and the date writes April 20th. You suddenly remember the last time that you were still in normal condition was two days ago... and the memories are slowly creeping inside your mind as you try to recall the events that had happened at that day. You felt some sort of connection with the newspaper you hold on your left hand and the envelope on the other.
And it burst; the new newspaper boy with his shocked expression, the tickets to a newly opened hotel, the beautiful receptionist, the mysterious hotel itself... and that’s it. The holes in your neck are still a mystery, and how you turned up here is another. You decided to yourself that you can’t just let this slip past your life and move on, and since you still have an address to that hotel, you made it so that it would be your top priority to go back there and get to the bottom of everything... That is, after you’re able to eat something, earn some money to be able to go there, and have those severe wounds checked up by a doctor.
So you searched for work at the newspaper’s “classified ads” and found a position of ‘Janitor’; that, with amazingly great luck, was for a workplace with the same address written at the envelope you have. It was the hotel’s address, but how you’ll be able to get there’s still the question. You called the number provided by the advertisement; someone answered on the other line, clearly the voice of a young woman.
“Good morning sir, what can I do for you today?”