Chance always hated being the first person to a party. No way to judge the competition; socially speaking of course. Analyzing people was Chance's thing. How else would he be able to tell if he was going to have a good time?
Finding out Chance was the first guest to arrive was like being the only child awake on Christmas Day. All those presents lying under the tree, but you can't open them until the parents are awake. It was just disappointing.
It had actually taken Chance quite a while to find out he was the first to arrive. When the taxi cab pulled up to the wrought iron gates of the hotel, Chance had been kicked out. The driver had told him to walk the rest of the way. Chance had flipped him off.
To make matters worse, the hike–and it was a hike–to the Graham Building took at least thirty minutes across a cracked concrete walkway overgrown with weeds. Not to mention that as soon as Chance had started walking it had begun to snow. And it was freezing. And he was wearing shorts. And his bag was heavy.
So Chance was already thoroughly pissed by the time he trudged up the marble staircase to the large oaken doors of the asylum-turned-hotel, trudging his suitcase behind him the entire way. He tried to be polite and knock on the door, but impatience got the better of him and he gave the entrance a good shove. The door swung open with a resounding creak, echoing off rafters high overhead.
Chance stepped inside, glancing around in genuine surprise. Dead ahead, on a large guilded plaque hung on a gentle yellow wall, read the words "GRAHAM BUILDING: ADMISSIONS OFFICES". Looking around, Chance was astonished by the ornate decor of the seemingly practical building.
The floor was a checkerboard of alternating red and yellow tiles, edged in golden filigree. Warm lights filtered soft light from some overhead electrical source. The walls, like the tiles, were a marbled yellow. Columns supported the roof at evenly spaced intervals, and in the middle of the atrium stood a life-sized statue of a robed man–probably some Saint, Chance assumed.
The young man moseyed down the column-flanked hall, his every step bouncing back to him from the ceiling.
Skirting around the statue–which was apparently supposed to be St. James, according to a small bronze plaque–Chance noticed a directory nailed to the wall underneath the grand admissions office sign.
"Admissions offices 1 and 2, Wards A, B, and C, cafeteria–that way," Chance murmured to himself, following the directory's arrows, which in turn pointed down a much smaller hallway. Well, smaller compared to the column totting entrance hall.
"Admissions offices 3 and 4, Wards E, F, and G... Ah there we go! Stairwell. That way," Chance looked to the right this time, down a carbon copy of the other small hallway. It was going to be too easy to get lost in this place.
Chance hummed to himself as he meandered down the hallway, taking his time. While he was all for exploring, it was no fun alone. This particular hallway was lit by ugly fluorescent lights, the bright white kind commonly used in hospitals. I knew they'd be here somewhere, Chance thought sarcastically, chuckling to himself. Finally, he found himself at a fork in the hallway. In the middle another directory. This time he followed the arrow that pointed right, towards the first staircase. Also lackluster in comparison to the atrium, the stair case was simple concrete covered over with linoleum, or some other cheap plastic. Yellowed and stained, not to mention badly cracked, the stairs were far from a pretty sight and had Chance second guessing if he was using the right staircase after all.
That's when he heard the voices. Laughter. That's what it sounded like to Chance. Laughter or sobbing. Maybe both. It sounded like the voices were coming from upstairs and from down the hall Chance had just come from. Finally, he thought, more people. Despite himself, Chance shivered a little.
"Hey!" The young man shouted to no one in particular. He looked up the stairs, then down the hall, then up the stairs again. The strange muffled voices continued. "Hell no," Chance murmured, finally choosing to abandon his current mission of going upstairs for the prospect of finding people in the well lit, welcoming entrance hall. Not that he was scared or anything. Not at all.
The voices did grow louder as Chance crept down the hall, the lazy saunter he walked with before now replaced by a tense gait. He could almost make out the words of conversation, but in the back of his mind he could still hear the crying laughter from the staircase. Turning back one more time as he walked, Chance let out a sigh as he found that he was not being followed–and almost ran straight into a teenage boy. The kid looked just as surprised as Chance felt, and while Chance was no sissy, it took all his effort not to jump out of his skin.
"What the hell!" Chance shouted at the kid. It took him a minute to realize that the kid had a friend, a pretty girl about Chance's age.
"Nice to meet you too," the girl replied with no small amount of good old fashioned teenaged angst.
"Sorry," Chance grumbled. "I was just a little surprised."
"No problem," the boy responded. "Caleb Ghatz," he said, holding out his had.
Chance accepted, gingerly shaking Caleb's hand. "I'm John, but you can call me Chance."
"Are you the only person here?" The girl asked. "'I mean, not that that's any problem. You look fun."
"That's Ella," Caleb said, nodding to the girl. Chance looked her over. She was pretty enough, sun kissed, like she came straight from the beach. She glanced at Chance from under long dark lashes with eternally blue eyes.
"Well, I was told we'd be having dinner, and after that plane ride, I think we could all use it," Ella remarked. As she passed Chance, she held out her arm.
"Escort me?" She asked with a breath of a voice.
Chance nodded, taking her arm in his. Caleb followed behind at a relaxed distance, not wanting to interrupt but equally not desiring to be left in the hall alone.
"Has anyone else noticed the lack of staff? Or other guests? Or anyone? 'Cause this place is giving me the chills," Caleb said.
Chance hadn't really thought about it too hard. Sure, it was strange that there was no one on the bottom floor. But then again, a lot of those ultra-fancy, antiquey hotels were short staffed. Plus with the sheer size of the hotel, it probably took any staff member forever to make it from one wing of the building to another. And didn't those letters say that all the guests invited this week were exclusively selected as part of some reward sweepstakes? Chance didn't bother himself with the subject any more; he was sure they'd run into someone somewhere.
"You work out a lot?" Ella asked, causally stroking Chance's shoulder with her free hand.
"Sports. I play soccer, football, and volleyball."
"I can tell," Ella breathed.
Caleb cleared his throat, clearly feeling awkward as the trio started to climb the cracked stairs.
"I heard somethi–someone up here before I ran into you guys," Chance remembered, thinking of the weird laughter.
"Hotel staff?" Ella asked.
Chance shook his head. "Hell if I know." He shook his head again.
"Never got a chance to find out."
XxXxX
Hello again! Hope you guys liked Part 1 of Chapter 1! As you guys can see from the cast list, there are still open slots for both boys and girls, so please keep sending OCs in. I do have to ask though that if you have already submitted one character and that character has been accepted, do not send in any more characters! Thank you! Now then, I should have mentioned this before, and it is completely my bad, but I will not be accepting any "dragon" characters, simply because I can't imagine seriously portraying a dragon in this story or setting. Anywho, thanks for reading and please review if you wish to comment on the story or chapters!