Hello guys, IcedFireFrenzy here with a new fic! This is pretty much the story told in Hotel California by the Eagles, but probably a bit more cynical.
Anyway, the first chapter is a short prologue, somewhat explaining why Kyle Broflovski is telling his story. My writing is more that a bit rusty, so it might not be the strongest piece I've written.
"Welcome to the Hotel California!" I hear everyone shout once more. I've been here for years, never leaving its premises more than four times since my initial arrival. I try to sleep, yet their incessant shouting keeps me awake. I know I should be out there with everyone, welcoming the unlucky guest, but I simply can't bring myself to move. However, there is always someone who will grab the guests—if that's what you can really them—to join the celebration.
"Hey Kyle!" I hear a person shout, his knuckles knocking gently on the door. The sound of the raps increase steadily, hoping to catch my attention. "Hey Kyle, could I come in?"
"Just a second," I answer groggily. I find myself standing up and walking toward the door, my mood somewhat sour. I open the door and see a man with oddly-cut blond hair and a chipper smile. Recognizing him immediately, I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. "What do you want, Butters?"
"We got a new guest!" he replies loudly, his voice quickly being drowned out by the moving party. "Won't you come and welcome him with the rest of us?"
"No," I say sternly, tired of the constant parties and trapping the naïve newcomers. The party only get louder as it moves closer, rendering Butters' reply useless. "What?" I shout, in hopes of him hearing me, but instead he waves his hand in a dismissive manner. Seeing the blond walk away, I sigh and close my door. I walk to the desk near my bed and turn on the light, looking at the dust and papers collecting on it. With nothing better to do, I pull out my chair and sit, preparing to jot down my own journey. I grab the one pen on my desk and begin to write on a blank sheet of paper.
