❝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.
"I don't know - it doesn't look like anything of value was taken. A few pairs of clothes, but that's it," Lily said, divulging what she considered to be classified information to the person listening through the phone. "I think we should call the police, Elliot. Something just doesn't feel right about all of this."
Elliot O'Hare, the unofficial outcast of his family, had been fitfully resting across the country when he'd received the first of a tsunami of phone calls. The first call didn't rouse him immediately, but eventually the third and forth ones woke him out of the nightmare he'd been experiencing. Sweat had already begun to bead at his hairline when he reached for his screaming cell phone, but it turned icy when a familiar voice began to cry after he'd sleepily greeted the caller.
It was clear to him that something terrible had befallen his little sister, seeing as everyone knew how distant the pair had grown after their childhood days came to a climaxing end, and he was the last person Penelope would've wanted to call. Sleep completely left him as he listened to the panicked words of a girl whom he faintly recalled from his younger days, that gigantic brain already spinning with possible outcomes to where his sister could've gone.
"What do you mean? What doesn't feel right?" he asked, rushing over to his closet and began to pull clothes onto his shaking limbs. Elliot's voice sharpened when she failed to give a response, "Lily?"
"It's hard to explain," was the reply the pacing girl gave, her eyes welling up with fresh tears as the gears in her head aches from their continuous turning. "Ever since we got here, Penny's been acting strange. She hasn't been herself."
Elliot's cocoa tinted eyes rolled momentarily, more so from the nagging sensation erupting in his gut than the lack of helpful information he was receiving, "Her medicine - has she been taking it like she's supposed to?"
"I - I," stuttered the crumbling blonde. Her ears picking up on sound of clothing being stuffed into a bag of some kind and the shuffling of papers, or was that leaves blowing in the wind? "I don't know! She's kept to herself these past few days. I really think we should call the cops. What if she's hurt?"
With a swift click, the lock to the front door of his apartment was in place and Elliot was bounding down the back stairwell, too impatient to wait for the slow-moving elevator. The adrenaline slithering through his veins was tied to the fear running rampant alongside it. All of what Lily had divulged was terrifyingly familiar to him, and it was the memories battling their way to the forefront of his mind that made his jogging steps give way to sprinting.
"Elliot, did you hear me?" Lily frantically cried, clutching the phone that once belonged to the missing girl in question like it was the only tether she had left. "What if Penny is hurt? I'm calling the cops, right now."
By the time she had finished her last sentence, Elliot was already hurtling down the darkened streets of his neighborhood, and spat out a single phrase that made Lily's pacing cease, "Don't do a fucking thing, Lily."
JAMES' HAND CARESSED THE APPLE OF HER CHEEK AS THE ARTIFICIAL DROWSINESS CONSUMED HER ENTIRELY.
The last words Penelope uttered to him still swirled within the confines of his dark mind. The amount of desperation and raw defeat that coated her words made his insides crawl. Though, those were the two things he reveled in when they came from his victims, when they came from Penelope – it made his stomach churn. James hadn't ever attempted to use his dark essence to take another's pain away, but when he saw the fire that fueled her soul dimming he knew what he had to do. And as he watched her rest upon the freshly laundered sheets of the mattress, he didn't regret a single thing.
His hearing peaked at the ruffling of clothing, and tilted his head as a thought fluttered across his brain. With a furrowed brow, he called out, "Ms. Evers?"
"Yes, Mr. March," said his loyal minion, placing the articles of clothing down upon the dresser in a neat stack.
Her hands wiped at the front of her apron in apprehension of her master's next request, and her heart thumped painfully as she watched him gaze at the sleeping girl. She wished for him to admire her in such a way, wished for him to yearn for her the way he did for her. Hazel found herself wondering what the younger female had that she did not, and as she watched, silent, as James brushed a stray lock of hair from Penelope's face – it clicked.
How could she not have seen it before?
It was the darkness that she so admired that drew her to James, and that same darkness oozed from Penelope's sleeping form. It spilled over the edge of the mattress, spreading as it seemed to claim its territory over the space and its inhabitants. Her inner self was dark and demented, and it matched her master's perfectly. That was what Penelope had that she did not, and it was something that could not be mimicked, or copied.
"Did you acquire the items I asked you for?" he asked, fingers tracing the freckles that dotted Penelope's arm, and the back of her left hand. The warmth from her skin gave him a sort of comfort that he hadn't ever experienced in his lifetime.
"Yes, sir," Hazel answered, eyes darting back to the items she had brought in from another room in the hotel. It had been the room booked under Penelope's name, and it was through the rubble of her meltdown that the maid had dug through. "It took me some time to find clothes I thought were suitable, but I couldn't seem to find her cellular device. It appears to be missing."
"Yes," James hummed, eyes narrowing as he contemplated the whereabouts of the missing piece of technology. "It seems her companions got to it before you could. Nosey little things, they are. I take it they have been notified of her absence?
"Yes, sir. They have yet to inform the police, but I do believe they have phoned her family. Her brother is supposedly on his way here to assist in the search for her," was the reply given, and by the sinister smile that swept across his handsome face, it seemed to please him.
"Well, it seems we are in for a little family reunion," James chuckled darkly, eyes sparkling with monstrous visions, and he gazed at Penelope with delight, giddy at the thought of the elaborate plan he had for her sibling.
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HELLO, EVERYONE! HOPEFULLY PEOPLE ARE STILL WILLING TO READ THIS? IF NOT, TOTALLY UNDERSTANDABLE, I HAVE BEEN GONE AN AWFULLY LONG TIME. HOPEFULLY THIS LITTLE BIT MAKES UP FOR IT, EVEN IF IT IS A BIT SHORTER THAN THE REST. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
OH, AND FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO WERE WONDERING ABOUT PENNY'S PAST, HER BROTHER IS GOING TO BE THE GATEWAY TO ALL OF THOSE MEMORIES, AND IS GOING TO SHAKE THINGS UP A BIT!