Watanuki, yuuko and a Hotel

by sakura siew-wan

this is a fanfic based upon watanuki and yuuko's servent master relationship. My main inspiration for this was the film dirty pretty things.

A darkened chamber; invisible shadows flitter across the ceiling

Twilight strikes, the tolling bells chant their tune. All is peaceful; all is quiet. The echoing footsteps of past guests strike, careful creaks of ceiling beams. Every noise striking the right chord creating an unflawed symphonic chorus; then as if time stopped itself a harsh tone rang true throughout the air. An unwanted note; like an interrupted affair. My fingertips brush the phone, its sliver plated receiver shines in the dim light, an eerie glow usually unnoticed.

A melodious voice, like rich cream over ripe sweet strawberries; as she issues her commands I can almost picture her apple white arms, intricately manicured nails: crimson red, no a darker red, like the colour of freshly shed blood. Her luscious lips, glistening: black as truth yet silvery, liquid metal.

I picture her whispering every word, every pause I see in my minds eyes her marble white teeth biting to draw blood. As I become lost in my dream world, her stinging tongue slaps and insult down the phone. I rush to her command at once.

Heavy footsteps ricochet of the overly solid polished gem walls; swinging chandeliers cast dark light across the desolate halls; every door a portal, to lands far from recognition. Crystal forests, icy seas, barren mountains. Belief in the truth of paradise is lost upon me: pain is the only truth. Wandering around the desolate hotel I ponder upon myths, wonder at the legends told by our fathers, marvel at the chiselled beauty of the guest who'd summoned me.

Shaking hands, bitten chapped lips, sweaty palms in need of revitalisation. Revitalise my soul. Revitalise my mind. Revitalise me. Fear struck down by nervous adrenaline. Old memories threatening to resurface; the impenetrable stronghold built to prevent such a happening does its' job and easily withstands the simplistic battering. Reaching for my employee key card, the glossy synthetic oblong, entrusted to me by the governing factor, I swipe its hard unforgiving edge against the electronic lock waiting for its judgment.

A darkened chamber; invisible shadows flitter across the ceiling. A moonlight glint amongst the silken sheets a shimmering glimmer of translucence. The stench of death fills my senses: an unwanted indulgence. My strength begins to waver as the familiar terror of abandonment invades my mind, a cautious caress to the ebony doorframe to assure myself of reality, however reality is but perception. A tentative foot lands on the rich cream carpentry; a shiver runs up my spine. A burgundy stain, an unholy blemish upon the dishevelled ivory sheets. I feel the barriers I built around the trauma slowly falling; the carefully created sanity is being destroyed. Paranoia, schizophrenia and obsession all the bane of my existence, names gouged into the chasm of my nightmares.

I feel the walls close in on me, the haunting spirits loom.

A hush desertion, with silence of a crypt: the chorus of the damned. A thick fog muffling the unspoken emotions; hanging from the marble window ledge: a discarded lace garter. Within the labyrinthine maze of knotted silk a single rose, its' petals black and withered. A solitary tear runs down my face, inescapable depression. Rushes of memories control my mind, images of my past flicker in front of my eyes. My hand crushes the petals as I reach out in despair. The soft, lisping tone of running water is all that stops me from reaching for the room service blade.

Ignoring the ever-increasing wish to flee, I obey the single ray of sanity. My hands shaking, I can barley focus upon the task ahead yet still I stagger towards the bathroom blinded by absolute self-loathing. One single whisper of truth breaks through the once impregnable fortress of denial. The sharp tang of a salty breeze, reality –although only my own twisted perception of life- a welcome saviour from the murderous thoughts. The whips cracks as I realise the job I came to do is still unfulfilled. However meaningless the tedious task of curing an injured porcelain appliance is still a mooring point for me to tie the ship of my mind to. Such an inane existence, tedium though art my cruel mistress. A simple task to complete; I cannot allow my links to reality to be broken. I venture back to the real world, my mask of emotionless rebuilt within the time it takes to blink: eternity.

I set about my work, though tedious it allows my escape from the terrors and the secrets I try so desperately to hide. Every footstep echoes through my ears; the soft yet potent beating of my own heart, the blood pulsing through my veins: I'm suddenly overcome by awareness. On my way to the bathroom my shoulder brush against something: a corset; its fastenings torn and burnt, untameable fear shoots through my body like fire destroys parchment. I slowly step towards the doorway, cautiously entering my heart pounding against its flesh prison. A bottle of red wine lies beside a shattered glass. A diamond ring amidst the flood of, a diamond set upon a dull gold ring.

I notice the blood encrusted showerhead; the once pale peach towels stained and discarded. A closer look at the gleaming diamond: skeins of flesh warped into the gold setting, a lick of suspicion whets my palate. Velveteen waistcoat: discarded. A single peach towel lay to infuse with the flood. A tarnished metal hanger in my shaking grip, I kneel as if awaiting sacrifice, probing the porcelain bowels of the toilet.

Metallic tang enters the air, an aura of immanent foreboding, the calm before the storm. Unless I was in the eye of the storm; the acrid stench of an unholy alliance; a crimson liquid fusing with the stagnant water. I reach out to the blockage, shimmering ghasts wavering in front of my face. As my fingertips brush against the offending item, sweat runs down my nose, a single drop fuses with the already contaminated water. I feel myself grasp the article, as if controlled by a force beyond my own knowledge.

A madman possessed I fling the entity away without even looking to what is was. I knew it was time for hitsuzen to claim me, wish fulfilled: payment taken. My sanity wrenched from my sweaty grasp, I was claimed by my destiny. A single moment of clarity was all it took for me too see the invisible spirits, the unnoticed shadows. They wanted my soul: except this time I had no kitsune spirit or mokona to aid my frantic escape.

Fleeing to the outer sanctum. Kneeling upon the marble ledge I scream to the fates; begging for forgiveness, praying to be spared from the unknown path. I knew it was the known to be feared never the unknown. At that moment I knew. The aura I felt as soon as a stumbled into the unfortunate suite. Everything happens for a reason: that reason is hitsuzen.

Unable to bear my foreknown fate, I leapt from that ledge.

Paranoia, schizophrenia, and obsession: all words etched into my mind with a single blade. As the wall finally cracked every emotion, every memory, every failing, and every trauma: I relived it all. Revisited the chasms of my nightmares and valleys of my torment. The shadows they mocked my weakness: spirits taunting me. Death I welcomed.

Dawn broke, as I landed. Midnight clouds banished, twilight images, memories of the storm. The heavy echoing footsteps of the past now silenced. Symphonic chorus now ended. Betrayed hitsuzen. The never to be silenced spirits of past days now hushed as they stare into the face of death. Truth appears as the pain finally strikes. Pain is the only truth.

A single lace garter falls from the sill.