A Place To Stay

Annabel is a trained hunter of an uprising. After finding out secrets she wasn't meant to know she goes into hiding where she meet Luck, a gorgeous hunter who knows everything about her. Can she survive Luck and the uprisings wrath? Or will she become trapped forever?

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1. Encounter

 

“A place to stay, uh?” The curious man stood leaning over the counter, hand extended and eyebrows lifted. He would have been frightening for most, he was big and had an expression of irritation, but it was part of the character he had to play to get customers, and Emilia knew it. Emilia stood at the counter of the Masson Hotel and lent forward “Are you going to let me rent the room or not?” the man looked annoyed, properly never had anyone stand up to him.
     “One-fifty” Ouch! the man looked triumphed; the price wasn’t even that expensive in town, but Emilia didn’t let her anger get the better of her as she took out her money and placed it on the counter looking the man in the eye, showing him that he’s stab didn’t hurt. The man took the money and folded it in he’s pocket, smiling.  He turned around to the board with rows of hooks with keys on them and picked the number twenty-four. He turn back to Emilia who matched he’s smile, she knew she had better be careful about what she says around people like him; after all she didn’t want to attract attention.
     “One question” the man dangled out the key in front of her, like he could bribe her with an expensive room that she could get somewhere else. Emilia wasn’t one for games she was more the one who made the rules. The man’s eyes scan the room behind her for ear droppers, satisfied he looked mildly at her with brown eyes. “What are you running from?” Emilia prepared for the question earlier and acted it out a few times.
     “If you guess I’ll tell you all about it” Annoyed Emilia took hold of the key but the man didn’t let go, he looked directly at her and pulled her towards him, her stomach pressed painfully against the wooden counter. “Deal” he let go. The man expected her to tumble backwards into a short bearded man who sat at a table with two others, swaying as they sung. Emilia though had been expecting this too and only wobbled a bit. The man looked disappoint at her as she dogged pass people who was so dunk that they couldn’t even stand still.
       Emilia reached the far end of the room where only a few people stood staring at her in ewe. Almost expecting someone to reach out to her she grabbed for the cold silver handle and turn it. Hurrying inside the long hallway she could feel the walls closing in on her, like a trapped lion. Straight away thought of her old apartment, where the walls were lit with small light globes that hung to the left on walls, blue paint peeling off making it look like waves in the sea and the stale smell of dust. Everywhere Emilia looked her heart remembered the her old apartment where she spent most of her time, thinking of a plan that would happen any year now, and now that it’s underway she didn’t know what to expect. Would it fall apart like so many have for the others? Would she be the only one who could pull this off?
      Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty- three, twenty-four. Emilia stopped. The door stared an angry red at her, but she knew it would welcome her if it knew her plan. TWENTY-FOUR written across the middle of the door, looked bran new compared to the others. The handle though couldn’t pass for  five years old. As she felt the rust under her hands she knew he had picked one that had matched he’s anger for her. 
       The room was small, but big enough that they could fit a small toilet and showers at the far end of the room. The walls were painted a cheap green, which looked more like a brown. Putting her clothes on the single bed to the wall on her left and laying down. Ignoring the sharp springs popping out from the thin fabric which was supposed to act like a blanket Emilia rolled over on her tummy and examined the small plane menu, she could tell it was years old. Nothing sounded edible so she looked at her small touch screen phone. No messages. Yet another sign that no one had even  noticed her missing. If they had she wouldn’t be here now, staring up at the crakes in the ceiling.

 

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