𝕲𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝕭𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘 ⤞ 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡

7 | 𝐀 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐜𝐭.

  ❝Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.❞

- Mark Twain

LILY STUMBLED OUT OF THE EMERGENCY STAIRWELL DOORS BEFORE THEY WERE COMPLETELY OPEN, THE SPARE KEY TO ROOM 64 CLENCHED BETWEEN HER FINGERS SO TIGHTLY THE IMPRESSION WAS LIKE A SCAR.

Her bare feet hitting the carpeted floor, thudding harshly as she sprinted down the faintly lit corridor. The large organ in her chest pumped rapidly and it felt like it would burst if she pushed herself any harder, but she did so without hesitation. The sound that sent her into a frenzy was one she had heard once before many, many nights ago. Lily hadn't heard such a paralyzing scream since the night of that fatal accident, and fear swallowed her at the thought of Penelope being in some sort of mortal danger.

Iris, the odd, but truly kind receptionist, and Liz Taylor, a woman who was far too beautiful for her time, were on her heels as she shot down the long hallway. Their own hearts were thumping in their chests when they heard that bloodcurdling scream echo throughout the building, and Iris nearly fell off her stool placed behind the front desk as Liz emerged from the back room. The tall beauty breathlessly, and fearfully ran past the stunned older woman, calling out, "Its her! It's Penelope!"

By the time Lily had burst into the stairwell on the fourth floor, too impatient to wait for the elevator, Liz and Iris were sprinting up the stairs as well, equally impatient and apprehensive. The blonde didn't question the reason behind the other two women's fear, but was internally grateful that she wasn't the only one who heard the scream. Her halo colored locks fell into her face as she abruptly stopped her sprint at the peculiar sight behind her. One that made her already pumping her beat a bit faster.

The door to Penelope's room, number 64, was open.

Lily, who felt the jagged breaths of Iris and Liz on her back, stared petrified at the slightly ajar wooden door. Unlike the older women, who lingered around the door frame, she shot into the room, spinning and twisting about to try and see what happened. Broken pieces of expensive, dated furniture and meticulously placed decorations covered the entirety of the hotel room. The pillows were ripped to shreds, the various vases and the flowers that inhabited them were shattered to tiny remnants of their former selves. Penelope's room was completely destroyed, and she was no where to be found.

"Where is she?" Lily cried, the tears that had began to form during inspection of the room were beginning to fall down her red cheeks. "Where's Penelope?"

Both, Liz and Iris, stood at the threshold with their mouth hanging agape. The amount of terror and worry that swam through the younger girl was always swimming its way through them, as well. Though, she didn't say anything at the time of chaos, Iris had a slight thought as to where Miss O'Hare had gone. But like every other inhabitant in the Hotel Cortez, she was too scared of the person involved to do a thing to prevent what they believed would happen. She thought back to the brief, but bizarre moment she shared with the deceased owner of the building. The way he showed unusual interest in the pretty girl sleeping in the room that once housed unimaginable horror.

If Mr. March had seen something he liked, in this case that "thing" being Penelope O'Hare, he took it without care of the consequences, and that's what Iris believed had happened. And all the trio could do was stand there, utterly confused and petrified, and stare at the damage done to the room.

IN THE LOBBY OF THE CORTEZ, LIZ WATCHED FROM HER PERCH AT THE BAR, AS LILY PACED THE CARPETED FLOOR.

Face red and puffy from the unstoppable flow of tears, Lily cradled the missing piece of technology between her shoulder and ear. Her blonde locks were tangled together as she failed to properly brush it, and the clothes she had been wearing just before that gut wrenching sound still adorn her sluggish frame. Lily was exhausted, there was no denying that, but she couldn't bring herself to settle down for more than a handful of minutes at a time. She was fighting to cope with the disappearance of her closest  companion, and Liz continued to watch, silent, as she nearly paced holes into carpeting beneath her.