Chapter 5 (1/2)

Unfortunate events

Feisha was starved awake a total of seven times, and it was the pitch-black scenery outside that greeted him every single time. On the seventh time, he finally couldn’t take it anymore.

“Just when the hell is sunrise around here!?” he screamed down the empty hallway.

“You can’t see the sun from this hotel,” Isefel’s icy voice sounded from behind him. Feisha jumped a foot into the air and quickly turned around.

“Why the heck don’t you make any sounds while walking?”

“Because you have too much shit in your ears,” Isefel said, looking at Feisha’s ears. Feisha ignored him.

“What time is it?”

“Three in the afternoon.”

“I slept for that long?” Feisha was a little surprised.

“No,” said Isefel, lightly. “Just three days.”

“…” No wonder he had a headache. “Uh, is there still cooked food?”

“Go to the restaurant.”

A thought occurred to Feisha. “Seeing as I haven’t eaten in three days, can I get my money back?” Three days is fifty dollars, and fifty dollars is a lot.

Isefel just stared at him until he finally sighed and gave in.

“Okay, okay, I know. Everyone has the duty of contribution.” Goddamn daylight robbery.

After going about his morning routine, he found a row of the hotel’s uniforms, neatly folded inside his closet. Feisha chose a black suit, coupled with a white dress shirt that seemed tailored to fit him perfectly. Admiring his handsome, proper figure in the mirror, Feisha was met with a sense of giddiness that came with the excitement of starting at a new job. He walked out the door with his head held high, saw the long, long hotel hallway and realised that he had no idea where the restaurant was.

“Boss Isefel!”

“Manager Gin.”

“Manager Hughes.”

“Chairman Asa!”

“Manager Dea.”

“Manager Antonio.”

“Manager Layton.”

No response. Feisha started again from the top. In the empty hotel, something akin to the presence of a ghost brushed past him.

Gin stood around the corner with furrowed brows and arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Don’t call me Manager Gin, Gin’s just my first name, my last name is the noble Vatican. My full name is Gin Laise Dracula Drakula Vatican.”

Rice? What a good name. The thing Feisha wanted the most right now was rice.

“Could you point me in the direction of the restaurant?”

Gin’s expression turned sinister. “You want to know how to get to the restaurant?”

“Yeah.”

“Then answer a question first.”

Uh oh.

“You still remember what happened three days ago, right?” Gin asked sweetly.

Feisha tried to avoid the question. “A lot of things happened three days ago.”

“It’s got something to do with your pillow,” Gin ‘helpfully’ reminded him.

Feisha put on his best poker face and pretended to think about it for a while.

“I don’t remember,” he said calmly, shaking his head.

“Oh? You really can’t remember?”

“Mm,” Feisha brought a hand to his face. “I probably slept too much, I can feel a headache coming on.” He’d have to be stupid to admit to this kind of thing.

Gin’s eyes shined like a pair of blue glass marbles. “So you don’t remember me going to your room before?”

“Huh? When did that happen?” Feisha’s eyes were comically wide. “Did you need to borrow some toothpaste?”

“Why would you think that?” Gin was still smiling.

“Because I reckon you’d use up quite a lot of toothpaste.”

Gin’s smile turned triumphant. “How do you know I use up a lot of toothpaste?”

“Because you’re a vampire?” Confusion was written all over Feisha’s face. “Don’t vampires have buck teeth?”

…Buck teeth???

Gin’s smile started to slip. “I remember you calling them canines three days ago.”

“Same difference, they both need to be corrected.”

“They are not the same,” Gin said, smile twisting. “My teeth are a symbol of my nobility, how dare you tell me to get them corrected?”

“I’m just looking out for you, man. What if you get ulcers?”

A blank look came over Gin’s face and wiped away any trace of humour. “Weren’t you going to the dining hall?”

“Oh, yes, well then-” Feisha rushed past him with tiny steps.

The dining hall was triangular, with the sharp vertex directly opposite to the entrance. Antonio, dressed in a set of pure white uniform and donning a chef’s hat, was lazily stacking a tower out of building blocks on one of the tables. Seeing Feisha walk in, he immediately stood up and asked, “What do you want to eat?”

“Cooked food,” Feisha said firmly. Following Antonio into the kitchen, he finally understood where his four hundred dollars went when Antonio told him to “just eat anything you want.”

The amount of food they had in there was plain, simple overkill. Just looking at the towers upon towers of food made his mouth water. Compared to what was in front of him right now, the stuff he’d been eating before might as well have been pig feed.

“This is all for me?” he asked, just to make sure.