Entity 131 - "The Concierge"
rating: +21+x
concierge

It's here to make your experience as carefree as possible!

Entity Number: 131

Habitat: The Hotel

Today's Routine:

The Concierge opens its four eyes to the warm tones of the room it resides in, in a hidden corner of Level 5. It gets up, stretching and shaking its head to clear it up for another day of work. Maybe it would stop for a tea or something beforehand. First, it would count, as always. It began the list in its head.

The usual four, plus… hm, four on my left arm, five on the right… none on my torso today, thank god. Wow, thirteen people gone! Either the other staff have really picked up the pace or they're slacking off. Oh well, hopefully today will be a calm day. I really do want that cup of tea…

It went to its closet, pulling out yet another white button-up and putting it on, rolling up the sleeves so that it would be easier for the eyes on its forearms. The Concierge pulled on a tie, one of the usual black ones (so as to seem more formal for the guests), and opened up the door to its quarters, ready for another day at work.

Ah, it forgot to check.

  • Eye five seems to be looking from the point of view of a wanderer, currently hiding… shaking? Ah, right. No need for me to look any longer.
  • Eye six shows a wanderer… well, wandering down a hallway, seemingly confused. They're still going in the right direction, so I'll leave them be for now.
  • Eye seven's subject seems to be asleep, good for them.
  • Eye eight is— oh. Oh, dear. That's… ah, that's a problem for me. Can't let that happen, nope nope.
  • Eye nine's wanderer seems to be sleeping as well, thank god.

The Concierge curses under its breath, beginning to run, but it blinks and its surroundings seem to change in an instant. Suddenly, it's behind the wanderer that eye eight was assigned to.

"Do you need assistance? I can point you in the direction of the banquet, or the washroom if you'd like."

"Uh… no, I—I'd like to leave. Could you point me towards an exit?"

"No need, please, come with me."

"B— back into the hotel? Ah, no offense to you, but… your coworkers are less than hospitable, and I really need to get back…"

"No need to worry, you'll be… back shortly, if you follow me."

"Are you sure…? W—wait. Why the fuck would I trust you? You work here, just like them. I'm sure you're planning on killing me too, huh? No, no no no, fuck that. Fuck you, fuck them, fuck this whole hotel. I'm leaving."

The Concierge sighs. Futile. Futile, futile, futile. It walks up to the wanderer as they begin to run, but that too is futile, as the legs it runs upon are inhuman, are stronger and faster than that poor wanderer's will ever be. The wanderer is within reach in mere minutes, so The Concierge grabs them by the collar and slams them to the floor, effectively winding and immobilizing the wanderer.

They gasp for air, face distorted as they recognize just how much it hurts when it's hard to breathe. The Concierge doesn't care, and it drags them towards a nearby room with access to a dumbwaiter, which just so happened to be slightly larger than an adult human.

It lifts them up, shoves them into the dumbwaiter, and begins to pull on the rope. A few yanks, and the lift would arrive on Floor 13. Eye eight would watch from the wanderer's point of view, make sure they got to their destination. Seemed like they had managed to catch their breath, but they weren't The Concierge's problem anymore. It waited for the door to open and made sure the wanderer got out. The others would deal with them.

It wiped its hands off, which had become uncomfortably clammy due to the sweaty and panicked state of the wanderer. It hadn't even fully woken up yet, unfortunately. Still groggy, The Concierge began to make its way to the kitchen, hoping someone else was preparing coffee or tea.


Do's and Don'ts:

Do:

  • Get myself some damn tea.
  • Get food, maybe, I haven't had breakfast yet today.

Don't:

  • Eat the metal on the kitchen counter right there. I could , but I shouldn't. The others say it's not healthy for me. I used to do it all the time, and I am really hungry… oh, I forgot, I saw a salad in the icebox. Mmm… that sounds good, I saw shriveled-up cranberries in there. Oh, there's a note on it. "DO NOT EAT PLEASE! From… Com— coe…?" Who am I kidding, I can't read that. I'll just… agh, I forgot to get the tea, paper's always so dry-tasting! Damnit.
  • Let anyone know I ate the salad. Maybe if I eat the container it's in the others will think it just disappeared.

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