Belladonna Harmon is a witch with the power of pyrokinisis. When she discovers her abilities and all the tragedies she's unknowingly caused over the years, the only thing she can think of doing is running. What will happen when she seeks refuge in T...
Old hope Got stuck in your throat Wound its way around your neck And caused you to choke Old hope Made of rope That held you tight when the chair legs broke
Sometimes the world feels so distant. The strongest of people crack and break. People fall. The strongest among us aren't those who feel nothing at all, they are those who feel every inch of pain and misfortune yet still continue on. They are those that don't let the pain control them. The bravest of us aren't fearless, they are brave because they keep going even whilst they are afraid. To be strong isn't to be bullet proof, it's too keep fighting as the bullets pierce through you.
When they found you hanging in the wood You said at least now I don't have to be kind or good I'll be cruel and I'll be obscene Tear out my tongue Cause I've been redeemed When they found you hanging in the wood You said at least now I don't have to be kind or good I'll be cruel and I'll be obscene Tear out my tongue Cause I've been redeemed
I walked silently through the halls. I'd always been polite, caring, compassionate. After Misty passed, I'd felt such an overwhelming darkness in my soul. I'd always had darkness and light in equal measure, balancing each other out in this eternal war within me. A war that kept me sane. I has firey and hot-headed, sure. I was angry and relentless. But I was a good person. Something broke in me over the years. My old kind self began to melt away. All that was left was the darkness and a thin vale of light to keep myself protected. I wanted so desperately to be a good person. I tried so hard. But the darkness was consuming me. I feared that one little push would be enough to send me over the edge.
Save my blushes for the grave No shy glance, no coy restraint And I won't hang my head And I won't repent Won't face the wall and count to ten Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten
Misty was a light. She was the light presence that kept my darkness subdued. She pushed me into the white of life. What if there was someone who'd make their way into my life to be her opposite. Someone who encouraged my darkness. Someone with a heart as black as the ace of spades. Someone to give me one little push.
Well they tore you down And they tore out your tongue And they made you kneel For all the things that you'd done But you wouldn't cry And you would't beg You just grinned And tore out your teeth instead
I walked through into room 64, a glass of whiskey in hand. My hips swayed in time to the music that was playing in my head. I slowly kicked off my black heels, stepping down to the familiar height of 5'4. My gentle fingers ran through my long brown hair. I felt as if I was going insane. My body slumped into one of the chairs in the room as I knocked back my whiskey. My hands trailed down to the hem of my black dress, tugging it down to my knees, wondering if I should take it off and go to bed. At that moment, a knock sounded at the door.
When they found you hanging in the wood You said at least now I don't have to be kind or good I'll be cruel and I'll be obscene Tear out my tongue Cause I've been redeemed
I don't have to sit down and behave Cause my darling I've been saved
I slipped on my shoes and ran to the door, opening it with a sigh. An older woman, dressed in a maids outfit was stood before me, fidgeting nervously. "Hello?" I asked, doing my best to hold a smile. She handed me a note and, in a hurried voice, exclaimed, "Don't be late!" Before I could ask any questions or protest, she was gone. How she disappeared, I wasn't certain. I stood in my doorway, dumbfounded. What on earth had just happened? I gently shut the door and walked over to sit on my bed. My fingers traced the envelope as I slowly tore it open.
Room 77 Dinner - 8:30 All will be explained
-JPM
Well, at least it was to the point, despite being rather ominous. Would this finally be my moment of clarity? Would I finally wake up and discover the secrets of The Hotel Cortez?
JPM.
The initials wurled around my head as I tried to find a meaning for them. Then it clicked.
James Patrick March
But how? Didn't he die over 90 years ago?
"No honey, clearly you don't quite grasp the concept of being dead."
My head began to hurt as my body trembled. Everything was clicking into place. All of this crazy, impossible stuff... Became possible. But, not only possible. It became fact. This was the reality I had been too naive to face.
I had so many questions.
Slowly, I slipped out of my short black dress and into something a little classier. I suppose I wasn't sure what would happen if I showed up looking like an Amy Winehouse rip off.
I wasn't going to wear a ball gown or anything like that. I chose something more appropriate to my style and mood.
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I checked the time.
8:15.
Time to leave.
Time to find out all the secrets of The Hotel Cortez.
Time to find out what's going on
Time to answer all my questions.
Sorry for not updating I've been preoccupied with Peter Maximoff and my mild Evan Peters obsession.
So yeah Hope y'all enjoyed this Let me know what you think is gonna happen in the comments and stuff Cya all soon - Rhiannon
