Ho+el

0.2

I had always believed there'd be a light, something great and magnificent, golden stairs reaching down to greet me with a velvet red carpet on top like a deliciously wrapped cupcake.

It wasn't.

My head was killing me when I opened my eyes.

Wait, I opened my eyes? I died.

I internally frowned at the little voice in my head, I did not need her sass right now. I attempted to sit up, but immediately regretted it, the pain in my head radiated down my spine, illuminating my body in what I can only describe as a force-field of pain.

What the hell is happening? Am I still in the street? Did Cast Away just leave me for dead?

With careful precision, I opened my eyes again, slowly as to not upset the explosion that seemed to take over my head everytime I moved.

There were no stars over me, instead it was a lavish ceiling, decorated in deep colors of maroon and gold, and I found myself thinking there was no building anywhere around the slum that would have such a nice looking ceiling.

"The girl's awake, go get Jareth," I heard a voice hiss, before I heard retreating foot steps.

"You can open your eyes now, we know you're awake," the hissing voice said, closer now, almost as if it was almost over me.

I turned my gaze to the voice and stifled a gasp.

It was a woman, she was old, her hair was graying and her face had deep wrinkles set into it, but the most surprising feature of all was a long ragged scar that ran from the left corner of her forehead all the way down to the bottom right side of her jaw. I found myself thinking she had the face of a grandma, and the scar of a war veteran.

"Where am I?" I asked, choosing simply to ignore the scar.

I glanced around then, taking in my surroundings as some sort of lobby, though the decorations were extravagant. Most of the furniture was deep crimson, the same color as the swirls on the ceiling, and the tables were golden, everything was so expensive looking. There were two doors which I assumed led to outside, but it was dark outside, pitch black dark. On the opposite side of the doors was a golden door that resembled an elevator, and as it dinged and slowly opened, I realized, that is infact what it was.

"You, my dear, are in what your puny human mind considers hell," the voice was velvety, it came from the elevator and I found myself sitting up just from the sound of it.

He strolled out from the elevator, and immediately I was taken back, he was tall, almost taller than any normal man I'd ever seen, and that's where the normality ended; his skin was porcelain in color, almost completely opaque in appearance, his hair was a severe contrast of that, it was dark and sticking up in spiked waves, his eyes were where I was lost, they were the color of raw honey, deeply yellow to the point of almost being the same golden as the elevator doors.

"I'm in hell?" I asked, raising my eyebrow in skepticism, "Where's the little red man with horns, a tail and a pitchfork?"

I noticed the older woman with the scar grimaced at my comment and stepped back, as if she was scared.

I turned my attention back to the man, who's face had turned up into a playful smirk, "He is right here."

"Can you tell me where I actually am, now, and where's Vee?" I asked, somehow finding the strength to pull myself to my feet, all of me ached, and it was strange, my body felt like it was crumpling in on itself.

"I have told you where you actually are, and your friend is gone, she has already signed in."

"Signed in? She's staying here?" I asked, trying to ignore the gnawing pain that was moving from my head down my spine in a slow succession, what was wrong with me?

"I suppose you could say that," the man said, taking a step towards me, "Are you feeling weak? Have a feeling of dread building within you because you know something is not right inside of you?"

An uneasy feeling developed in the pit of my stomach at his words, but I swallowed it down, "No, I'm fine, thanks for asking."

"You cannot lie to me, girl, I know all. You were meant to check in too, and you are withering as we call it because you do not belong here," he said, stepping closer to me, his hand gesturing down towards my chest where I noticed that there was a ragged, bloody wound.

Then, it all came back to me.

Vee, the gun, Cast Away, being shot.

I fell, the ground coming up to meet my knees with a sickening slap as I clutched the wound on my chest, how was I not dead?

"I'm withering?" The word sounded weird in my mouth, like I was talking around a spoonful of food, "What is withering?"

"When someone enters our realm and doesn't check through, they begin to wither, their body deteriorates quickly, like a rose withering out of water. However, you are different, most humans would've withered hours ago, yet you're still here with us," The man said, he looked amused, as if the fact that I was literally dying made him happy. For a moment, I didn't doubt that it did.

"She should've died already, Jareth, everytime I try to sign her name into the book, it disappears, like she's not meant to check in," the scar woman said.

Jareth's eyes jerked up from me, and he frowned, "Her name disappears?"

"Yes, come here, I will show you," she said walking behind a brightly painted golden desk. She returned with a book, it looked wide enough to be a notebook, however with the velvety pages I was convinced it was a guest book. Why would hell need a guest book?

It's like Death Note or something, you sign your name and get stuck in hell.

The scarred woman quickly scribbled something onto one of the pages, and I realized that it was my name. My full name. How did they even know my full name?

I watched as Nora Felder began to dim, and then vanquished all together from the page, and I had a smug satisfaction that I had somehow confused Jareth, he needed to be knocked down a peg or two.

"If her name doesn't stay in the book, she's not human, Jareth, we know that," the woman said, she looked almost concerned with this information.

"Part of her must be human if she's withering, Isabelle, it isn't possible for you or I to wither, yet, she is! Explain that to me!" Jareth's voice had raised a few octaves and I found myself almost cowering, he wasn't even speaking to me, yet it was terrifying nonetheless.

"I do not have an explanation for it, Jareth! All I know is that this girl is no ordinary human, and if we let her wither we have to answer to the council why we let a fellow blood-line wither away right beneath our grasp!" Isabelle had rounded on him, which is something I could barely see myself doing. Jareth was intimidating.

"Perhaps she is a Soul Shatter," Isabelle said quietly.

The loud slap echoed through out the entire lobby as Jareth's hand connected with Isabelle's cheek, she flew backwards, colliding with the ground hard, her cheek raising in a red welt from his smack, "You do not defy me and you do not give that pathetic human any hope in this realm!"

Isabelle was glaring at him, her hand clutching her red cheek, "Yes, master."

"We will give her twenty-four hours, if she does not wither, she may not be completely human," he turned to me, his golden eyes scoping over my entire body, "This will hurt, human, I promise, withering is a task that most of our kind," he gestured to himself and Isabelle, "cannot even handle. If you can prove to me that you can stand twenty-four hours of it without dying, I may not damn you after all." And then he walked away, the elevator doors sealing again right behind him.